Deanna Lee

by Barenaked Jane (lit)

  “Hey, what’s up?” I asked softly.

  “What’s up with you?” She glanced back over her shoulder as Mathias came to the kitchen doorway pulling on his jacket. “I didn’t mean to run you off.”

  “I’ll be back.” He came around her and kissed me right on the lips and left.

  I stared after him, dumbfounded and slightly amused. He’d been so careful before about not even touching me in front of Mercy.

  “And here I thought the two of you were just getting it on.” She shrugged off her coat, went to the door, flipped the bolt lock, and came back into the kitchen. “Now, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong.”

  “You called in sick. I don’t remember you ever calling in sick, not ever. Something happened with that asshole’s mother, and I want to know what it is.” She sat down and crossed her arms over her breasts. “Come on, fess up.”

  “Mercy.” I looked down at my sandwich mournfully. I was really hungry. I picked it up and took another bite. She would just have to wait.

  “You’d best eat that sandwich fast.”

  I grinned and swallowed. “Are you here as my boss or friend?”

  “Friend.”

  “Okay.” I put down the sandwich and got up. I pulled a beer out of the frig and popped the cap on it. “Want one?”

  “No. I’m driving.”

  “Okay.” I sat back down and snagged the bag of chips on the table. “Charlie was there with his mother when I arrived. He’d convinced her that I’d asked to meet with her in order to gain her goodwill so that I could continue to date him.”

  “I hope you informed her otherwise.” Mercy wrinkled her nose in distaste. “He’s a total troll.”

  “And growing more so by the minute.” I dumped some chips on the napkin next to my sandwich and set the bag aside. “I explained my purpose for the meeting, informed her that if Charlie’s stalking behavior didn’t end immediately I would call the cops and file charges, and then I left.”

  “There’s more.”

  I nodded. There is no way to measure how much I did not want to tell her the rest. Or maybe I just feared Charlie hadn’t been lying about it.

  “He followed me out to my car, angry. After a few veiled threats on my part and whining on his, he said that I owed him because he’d helped me get the promotions at Holman. First from the sales floor and then into the assistant director position. He told me he’d called James Brooks personally and asked for the favor.”

  Mercy reached out, grabbed my beer, and took a big healthy swig. She set it down carefully and cleared her throat. “Now, give me a second to calm down.”

  “Okay.”

  She took a few breaths. “I can’t believe you bought that bullshit!”

  I jumped a little and then shook my head. “Milton Storey hated me, Mercy. He was never satisfied with my sales record despite the fact I outsold everyone else. I didn’t ask for the senior buyer position because I figured he wouldn’t even let me interview for it. He also found me stuck up and insufferable because I refused to date his troglodyte son. So, yes, I do believe that Milton might have been influenced by James to elevate my position in the gallery.”

  “And me?” she asked pointedly.

  “The first day you walked into the gallery, you came into the administrative wing like a raptor looking for prey. You cut a path a mile wide through most of the support personnel in a matter of weeks. Yes, I did worry that my education or my work wouldn’t meet your standards.”

  “Did you just call me a bird?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of that little dinosaur in that movie that ran around killing everyone.”

  “You suck.” She sighed. “And you haven’t answered the question.”

  “No. You told me that you chose me, and I believe you.” I sighed. “But it doesn’t change the fact that Charlie very likely influenced the course of my career.”

  “That’s crap. He might have sped it up a little, but he didn’t do anything significant.” Mercy waved her hand when I started to protest. “You impressed me before I met you, Jane. I received detailed reports on every person in the gallery. If you hadn’t already been the senior buyer, you would’ve been within six months of my arrival.”

  “You mean that?”

  “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. Now, let’s also remember this. James Brooks doesn’t do a damn thing unless he wants to, and I doubt seriously he paid one bit of attention to Charlie. For all we know, Milton moved you up to administrative staff so he could look at you all day.”

  “Gross.” I took my beer back and finished it off. “You’d better not have any cooties.”

  “None that I’m aware of,” she said, amused. “And don’t let him drag you down over this. You’ve worked very hard to get where you are.”

  “Yes.” I nodded and then shook my head. “What if someone came along and took all the credit for your success and you couldn’t prove him wrong? How much would your place in the world mean to you after that?”

  She paused and seemed to consider my question. “Okay, maybe for a few minutes I would be pissed and self-righteous about it. I admit to being pretty angry when Jeff King insinuated that I slept my way into every decent job I’ve ever had.”

  “Was that when you beat him up?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled pleasantly. “It was.”

  “And now?”

  “I know the truth. I know I did the work, made the effort, and received what I deserved. I’m the director of one of the best galleries in Boston because I worked damn hard to make it so.”

  “So I should forget about Milton?”

  “I hope one day we can all forget about Milton.”

  “James never mentioned me to you in reference to the assistant director job?”

  “Not until the day my recommendation hit his desk. He nodded, said ‘good,’ and signed the paperwork on the job offer. That was it, Jane. I promise.”

  Relieved that she’d said it and more relieved that I believed it, I stood up and went for another beer. “Charlie sucks a lot.”

  “Do you think he’ll make a pest of himself after today?”

  “No, he wouldn’t dare risk embarrassing his mother, and now that she knows about it…she’ll hammer home the fragile condition of their family tree, his place on the inheritance scale, and of course the state of his trust fund, which she still administers.”

  “And if he does?”

  “I’ll follow through and file charges.”

  “Good.” She eyed my beer as she spoke.

  I snatched my fresh beer up off the table and glared at her. “Get your own.”

  Laughing, she stood. “No, I’m driving. One sip is more than enough at this point.”

  “Thanks for coming over.”

  “You should have come back to the gallery and asked me. Then you wouldn’t have spent all of this time in your granny nightgown.” She glanced me over. “I’m sure Mathias was just overcome with lust at the sight of you in it.”

  “Some friend you are.”

  “Hey, a friend tells a friend when she is dressed poorly. Put on a decent nightie before he comes back.”

  “He prefers me naked.”

  “Then get naked; anything would be an improvement.”

  I followed her to the door and watched her pull her coat on. “I’m probably in over my head with him.”

  “Yeah, that’s the fun part.”

  I was sitting on the bed toweling my hair dry when Mathias returned. “Hey.”

  “Did you guys get all the girl stuff out of the way?”

  I laughed. “Something like that. You were right, of course; she wasn’t influenced into giving me that promotion.”

  “And if she had been?”

  “I don’t think I could have stayed there.” Even saying that hurt a little more than I thought it would. “It’s important that I make it on my own.”

  “What about Milton Storey?”

  “I’ve decided he doesn’
t exist in Jane-land.”

  Laughing softly, he walked over to me, leaned down, and kissed me. I sighed when he lifted his head.

  “I need you to promise me something.”

  “Okay.” I raised one eyebrow.

  “That I will always exist in Jane-land.”

  “Yeah,” I whispered against his mouth as he kissed me again. “You might even achieve landmark status.”

  “Is there an application to fill out?”

  “No, but there is a field test.” I curled my hand into the front of his jeans and pulled him closer. “Take off your clothes and hold on tight. Things could get a little rough.”

  “I’m loving this already.”

  And I was very close to loving him. Had I really only known him a handful of days? The short amount of time really didn’t matter. I think the first time I lay naked with him on my bed, I knew that he was the one for me. His honesty, thoughtfulness, and effortless ability to be so intimate with me had stripped me bare, and I reveled in it.

  I always will.

  Turn the page for a sneak peek at

  SEXUALLY SATISFIED.

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  “Thank you all for coming,” said the casting director, clutching his binder to his chest. “You were all terrific, and we’ll be in touch soon.” He gave the six-foot blonde with the huge fake boobs a wide grin, which she returned with a flick of her long bleached hair. If this bimbo can convince the balding old fart that she finds him absolutely devastating, then she’s an Oscar-caliber actress who deserves the job, I thought caustically.

  I sighed, picked up my tote bag and trudged to the door with the other rejects. Another bomb of an audition. I couldn’t even get hired for a tampon commercial. It had been two…no, three months since my last job. If I didn’t land a role soon, I’d have to go back to the grind of office temping.

  As soon as I opened the door and stepped outside, the heat hit me like a blast furnace. I immediately felt sweat beading on my upper lip and trickling between my breasts. Oh, the joy of New York City in August. And now I had to take the subway, the stickiest, stinkiest sauna in the world.

  I staggered up to my third-floor apartment, pushed my way in and kicked off my shoes. “Apartment” was a bit of an exaggeration. The ad had described it as a “charming, cozy studio” but “tiny rat hole” was really more accurate. I turned the ancient air conditioner to high; it immediately coughed, sputtered and died. “Goddamnit!” I shouted. I hauled out the floor fan, feeling tears of frustration pricking at my eyes.

  Five minutes later I was sitting half naked in front of the fan, sipping iced tea. I tried to remind myself of all the good things in my life. My boyfriend of three months, Steve, was the sweetest guy I’d ever met—and extremely cute in the bargain. I was beginning to wonder if he was The One. Anita, my best friend since sixth grade, was supportive and fun and loyal. Even on a sweltering summer day, New York was infinitely preferable to boring Hanover, New Hampshire. And I’d had some success with my acting career; if I could just hold on until the big break came…

  My cell phone rang, and before I even flipped it open, my telephonic telepathy set in. I just knew it was Steve. We’d talked about getting together tonight, and now I really needed his company.

  “Hey, Gillian,” he said. “Have you melted yet in this heat?”

  “No, but I wish I could. I had a thoroughly shitty day.” I proceeded to moan and groan and complain, knowing Steve would be sympathetic. He’d been through enough lousy auditions before landing the plum role of Winston on the long-running soap Nights of Passion.

  I finally ran out of complaints. “So, what would you like to do tonight?”

  Steve was strangely silent. Usually he was an expert at pulling me out of a bad mood.

  “Is something wrong, Steve?”

  He hesitated. “No…. Well, yes. I don’t know how to say this, Gillian…. I planned to get together with you tonight to discuss it. But I think it’s better to do it over the phone.”

  I never understood the phrase “my heart sank” until that moment. “You want to break up with me,” I said woodenly.

  He heaved a long sigh. “I’m sorry, really I am. I like you so much, Gillian, and we had some great times together. But I don’t think we’re compatible.”

  My throat tightened. “I don’t understand. We’re interested in the same things, we’re in the same business, we enjoy doing the same things—”

  “It’s not that. I just think we’re not compatible…sexually. In bed. It’s never been very good for either of us.”

  I was stunned. True, Steve and I didn’t have the best sex life, but, god, I had tried to spice things up. He had never seemed interested in trying anything new. It was the same routine every time.

  “Look, Steve, I understand what you’re saying, but we could work on it—”

  “No…Gillian, I’m really sorry. The truth is that I’ve met someone else.”

  My shock deepened. I couldn’t speak. I just sat there as Steve rambled on, apologizing, swearing it wasn’t my fault….

  I finally interrupted him. “Okay, Steve, good luck.” I hung up abruptly and burst into tears.

  Once the worst had subsided, I called Anita’s cell. Voice mail, damnit. “Hi, Anita, please call me back as soon as you can…. Steve just broke up with me.” I hiccupped. “It came out of the blue. I’m feeling lousy right now…. Thanks.”

  I washed my face with cold water, praying Anita would call back soon. I hope she’s not having one of her party-hearty club nights, I thought. When Anita was in that mood, she made Samantha from Sex and the City look like a shrinking violet. But Anita was so honest and grounded, the only person I could really talk to about deep emotional stuff. We’d met when we were both twelve and dreaming of fame and fortune in New York. A few months after high school graduation, we moved together to the city. My success had been modest, but Anita’s modeling career had taken off. She hadn’t reached single-moniker supermodel status, but she was well on her way.

  My cell rang, and I snatched it up. “Anita?”

  “Gillian, are you okay? I got your message…. God, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

  “I don’t know. He just said we weren’t compatible in bed. Then he said he’d met ‘someone else.’ That was it. The end.”

  “Well, it’s his loss.” Anita was indignant. “I’ll bet this ‘someone else’ won’t last more than a few weeks.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” I sighed. “It’s true that our sex life was pretty mediocre. Not horrible, just not all that good. I had to fake it several times.”

  “Girl, you should never have to fake it! Find some guy who knows what the hell he’s doing. Why don’t we hit some clubs this weekend?”

  “Sorry, I can’t. I’m spending this weekend in Easthampton with Aunt Mary. Steve was supposed to come, too. I guess that’s why he broke up with me tonight—he couldn’t bear the thought of an entire weekend with me.”

  She snorted. “Screw Steve. There are some great clubs out in the Hamptons….”

  “Oh, Anita, I’m not up for that yet. I’ll just spend a quiet weekend with Aunt Mary. I need to get out of this inferno of a city for a few days and relax.”

  “Okay, but call me anytime if you want to talk.”

  “Thanks, Anita, you really are the best. I feel a little better already. Let’s get together for coffee on Monday.”

  The train ride to Easthampton seemed endless. I sniveled most of the way. I felt like the world’s ultimate loser—I’d win a reality show based on that concept with no effort at all. I was a mediocre actress who could barely make a living in TV commercials. And apparently I was lousy in bed—couldn’t even keep Steve’s interest for more than three months.

  Aunt Mary met me at the station, and just the sight of her silver hair, bright blue eyes and broad smile was enough to cheer me up. I had told her on the phone that Steve and I had broken up; she was tactful enough not to press for details. Aunt Mary and I had alwa
ys enjoyed a close relationship; she was more like a much older sister than an aunt. She had retired from acting a few years earlier and had always been my mentor and most enthusiastic cheerleader. Mary had never been a hugely successful actress, but she had been well known in New York as a talented and hard-working professional.

  I was sprawled on a chaise longue with her cat, Jasmine, purring on my lap when she came out to the patio with two glasses of iced tea. “Gillian, Jackie and Ken Williams are coming over for cocktails. Ken is bringing his golf partner, some guy named David. Sorry…I know you’re not in a sociable mood.”