by Nadia Lee
Was it some kind of weird karma that he had ended up with somebody like Jane who cared? He’d done so many things purposely to hurt his mother when he’d been young and stupid. His mother had forgiven him, but he’d never been able to forget how she’d blinked away tears when she’d thought nobody was watching.
And he’d derived a perverse pleasure from it. God, what an asshole he’d been.
He finished his coffee and watched Jane nibble at the remnants of her food. She was just different. The kiss had been unexpected, and so was her determination to pretend nothing had happened. With any other woman he would’ve accused her of playing mind games, but she seemed like the type who wouldn’t know how even if she wanted to. It was sort of refreshing to be with a woman who didn’t try to get a rise out of him. He’d left Sherry over that crap and wasn’t about to play bullshit emotional games with anyone else.
“Great. When are you coming home from your shift?”
“Actually, André didn’t say anything about a next shift. I think he’s going to call.”
“There might not be any more this week. Thanksgiving’s only two days away.”
“That’s true.” She frowned. “I was hoping he’d give me some more hours so I could move out soon.” She cast him a quick look. “I know you want your freedom back.”
The insight surprised him. Most women he’d dated tended to be a bit more obtuse about things like that. On the other hand, that was why they were so easygoing and happy.
He shouldn’t be a jackass. Okay, so having Jane was a bit of a hassle. But she was trying, and he really respected that. And it wasn’t like she had a place to go. West Virginia was far, far from L.A., and he was basically responsible for her being in a new, unfamiliar city. He was obligated to take care of her until she could get back on her feet. Think of it as penance for all the dick moves you’ve pulled in your life, especially against your mother.
“Now that you showed him you’re not a wimp, I’m sure he’ll use you more often. So enjoy your time off. He’ll probably be merciless from now on.”
She smiled. “You’re right. I should be more positive.”
“Exactly. Fortify yourself with turkey and stuffing for the insane amount of work to come. Mark’s restaurants are always busy, and I’m sure André’s planning to work you half to death.”
“Okay. By the way, is there a mall anywhere around?” Jane asked.
Iain laughed. “Dude…you’re in L.A. Yeah, we might possibly be able to find a mall somewhere. What do you need?”
“Just some personal items.”
“There are lots of options.” He gave her a few. “If you want, you can just make a list of things and I’ll have my assistant pick them up for you.”
“You have a personal shopper?”
“It’s one of the things she does. Makes life easier.”
She shook her head. “It’s all right. I’ll do it myself. I don’t mind.”
“Okay then. But don’t be surprised at how crowded everything is. There’s a reason I don’t go to malls.”
Chapter Twelve
After two hours, Jane conceded defeat. She’d withdrawn as much money as she could from the ATM, but she still couldn’t afford anything that looked nice enough for Thanksgiving dinner at Iain’s parents’ place.
As the elevator doors opened on the top floor of his building, she pulled her shoulders back. It couldn’t be helped. She was just starting out in her career, and Thanksgiving was about being grateful for all the lovely things she’d enjoyed in her life, not focusing on a shabby wardrobe. Clean and neat would just have to do.
When she went inside, she heard voices—Iain’s and a woman’s. They sounded like they were in his bedroom. Jane flushed. So Iain did have a girlfriend. She should’ve known. Of course a guy that perfect would have a girlfriend. He probably had twenty.
Jane cringed, recalling her pathetic kiss. She started to back out, then stopped when the woman came out of the room, saying, “If you go any more minimalist you’ll have to sleep on the floor and eat off the carpet.” She was dressed, thankfully, but a diamond ring on her left hand flashed as she gestured around. Oh crap. Iain was engaged?
“I don’t mind sleeping on the floor,” Iain said, following her. Then he stopped. “Oh, hi, Jane.”
“Hi.”
The woman paused in the middle of her muttering and turned to face Jane. Wow, she was gorgeous. Maybe this was just how things were in the Iainverse. Only gorgeous creatures existed. The other woman’s long glossy hair was of some mysterious shade between eggplant and Fuji apple. She wore a magenta blouse with sheer, fitted sleeves, and a lime-colored skirt that ended two inches above her knees. Jane didn’t have the courage to pull off a color combination like that, but she had to admit it looked amazing. “Hi,” the other woman said.
“Jane, this is Brooke de Lorenzo. She’s my new interior decorator.”
“Oh, right.” The new decorator! Jane suppressed an urge to let loose with a giddy laugh. “A change of pace would be nice. Something warm and homey,” she said. “Easier to relax that way.”
Brooke cocked an eyebrow. “See? Even Jane agrees.”
“No, she does not. She has no idea what I asked you to do yet. Just do it, okay?”
“Fine, fine. I’ll get all Nike on it.” Brooke gave Jane a speculative look. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other more.”
“Great.” Jane clasped her hands in front of her, unsure but unwilling to say anything else, in case it was the wrong thing again.
“I’ll start as soon as I can, but don’t expect anything for, mmm, a week at least. Thanksgiving holiday and all.”
“I thought your fiancé’s boss works him to death,” Iain said lightly.
Brooke laughed. “Oh, he does. Still, it’s Thanksgiving.”
She walked out, carrying two big leather bags, and the door closed behind her with a soft click. Iain looked at Jane. “So how’d it go? Find everything you needed?”
“Yeah,” she lied. “Thank you.”
“Before I forget, we have an appointment in an hour.”
“For what?”
“You’ll see.” Iain gave her a big smile. “Come on. Have to eat fast if we don’t want to be late. Josephine hates people who are late.”
* * *
Iain put together two simple sandwiches—he could do that much—and ate them with Jane. She still disturbed him—the memory of the kiss was permanently etched in his mind. Which was precisely why he’d paid extra to have Brooke come over as soon as possible.
He wondered if Jane had any idea that she had a small tell—a tiny twitch of her left eyebrow. He’d noticed at Éternité while she’d praised the amazing “raw fish” and again just now when she’d said she’d gotten everything she needed.
He’d done the right thing by arranging for the appointment. Jane obviously didn’t have much. Of course, the nut-job ex-boyfriend had ruined her wardrobe, and Mark probably wasn’t going to pay her until next month. And it wouldn’t even be a nice, fat paycheck, just a small, pathetic dishwasher’s paycheck.
Dinner at his parents’ place provided a perfect excuse for him to replace some of the items she’d lost. It was another way he was helping her get back on her feet. L.A. was a city where you were meant to be seen and admired. Nobody would take her seriously if she wore stuff that had been threadbare five years ago.
At precisely one fifteen, the intercom buzzed. Josephine Martinez walked in on a gentle cloud of the latest priceless perfume. She made a fashion statement with everything she wore, and she had the most amazing taste, which was why she generally had more clients than she could handle at any given time. But she was still hungry for more, which was precisely why she’d agreed to take on Jane, whom Iain had described as a nice but fashion-challenged girl from Nowhere, West Virginia.
Josephine came in and gave Iain a small hug. “So where’s this Jane?”
“She’s finishing her sandwich,” Iain said.
Sh
e stole a quick peek over his shoulder and gasped. “Oh my goodness,” she breathed out, shaking her head. She lowered her voice further so only Iain could hear. “Is that how she dresses all the time?”
Iain nodded.
“There’s challenged and then there’s challenged. She’s terminal.”
“That’s why I called you.” Iain gave her one of his most charming smiles. “You are the best…right?”
“Of course, I am. But it’s going to cost you.”
He waved it away. “Whatever. Just so you know, she’s also going to need a full wardrobe. That can come later, though.”
“What does she do?”
“Dishwasher at Éternité.”
Josephine shook her head. “I’ll do my best. But I can’t promise miracles.”
“I’m not expecting a miracle. Just a little magic.”
* * *
Jane stared at the new woman in awe. She’d never seen anybody so…well-dressed before. Not that the other people she’d met out here hadn’t been, but there was something special about this woman.
The lady disengaged from Iain and came forward to introduce herself. Her hand was incredibly soft, and Jane shook it gently, almost afraid to crush the delicate bones. “I’m Josephine. Iain told me everything. I’m a fashion consultant and shopper, and I can help you.”
“Oh.” Jane bit her lower lip. This was humiliating, and she didn’t know how to tell Josephine about her financial situation without embarrassing herself and Iain. “Um. I…um…” Opting for the truth, Jane lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have the money to pay you right now. Is it okay if I pay in installments?” Hopefully she’d be able to do that…provided she didn’t eat. Josephine looked pricey.
The other woman burst out laughing. “You’re so cute. Before we go, stand up straight. Let me look at you.”
Jane did as instructed. Josephine didn’t look at her in a cutting way, but her gaze was assessing nonetheless. Josephine made a small circle with her finger. “Turn. Slowly, please.”
Jane turned around, feeling like an idiot.
Josephine nodded and made a humming sound. “Okay, got it. Let’s go. Clock’s ticking!”
Jane looked at Iain uncertainly. “Are we really going to do this? I can’t afford anything.”
“Yup. Like the lady said, let’s go. I’m coming along too.”
Taking a deep breath, Jane followed the two out. If nothing else, there might be something nice on a clearance rack she could afford. Maybe Josephine could show her.
Chapter Thirteen
Iain drove his Maserati with such sure confidence that people actually moved out of his way. When Jane drove, people honked and cut her off.
Josephine led the way in her Lexus. Jane looked at it wistfully. Josephine couldn’t have been born rich—if she had, she wouldn’t be doing fashion consulting for the rich and famous, but would’ve been hiring people who did that sort of thing herself. But apparently people valued her enough to pay her well. One day, Jane thought, that’ll be me. She just knew she would be able to get the validation she needed from her job if she stuck to it long enough.
“How long’s Josephine been a fashion consultant?” Jane asked.
“I don’t know. A while. She started out as a shopper for Mark’s best friend Gavin’s wife like…four or five years ago?”
“She must’ve been amazing to be noticed like that.”
“Oh she’s great, but she wasn’t chosen because she was the best out of all the candidates.”
“Then why? Did she offer discounts?”
Iain laughed. “‘Josephine’ and ‘discount’ never appear in the same sentence. No, she’s Hilary’s best friend, and Hilary is Gavin’s executive assistant. So it was through connections.”
“Oh.”
“Hey, listen. I know you want to be a cook, and you’re good at it and all, but it’s not always just about skill. It’s also about being at the right place at the right time. If Josephine hadn’t been living in L.A. she might not have been hired.”
“You’re right.” She looked at him. “And I was at the right place at the right time when you found me in D.C. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for you, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
He cleared his throat. “You’re a smart woman. You would’ve found something.”
“Maybe. Probably wouldn’t have found a solution as fast without your help, though. Or been okay.” Gio had been a slick and dangerous con-man who had somehow talked her out of a lot of money. It shamed her how gullible she’d been. She’d always thought she was smarter than that, but he’d known exactly which buttons to push.
But maybe it was obvious. He’d exploited her and her dreams.
With the anger came shame. She should’ve known better. Been more careful. But she wanted somebody to believe in her so badly that she’d let him fool her. She shook her head. Not going to make that mistake again.
Soon Josephine pulled into a virtually empty parking lot. Jane had expected a mall or something, but this was actually a square standalone building with a sleek black exterior. Iain parked next to her, and they all got out of their cars.
“I called in a few favors to arrange this. Figured it would be more comfortable,” Josephine said.
“Appreciate it,” Iain said, and Jane nodded, unsure what the other two had in mind. This looked obscenely expensive.
They went into the building. The sound system played a soft soothing tune, and the inside smelled like fresh flowers. A slim receptionist in a dark skirt suit greeted them. “Good afternoon, Mr. Pryce. Josephine. And you are…?” She looked at Jane with an inoffensive curiosity, which had to be a feat given what she was wearing.
“Jane,” Jane said, then cleared her throat. “Jane Connolly.”
“Splendid. Ms. Connolly, please come this way.” She gestured, striding away on impossibly high heels. Another well-dressed staff member came out with a silver tray with three pale yellow bubbling drinks. Jane’s eyes widened.
Iain and Josephine each plucked a glass like it was the most natural thing in the world to be offered champagne every time they walked into a strange building. When Jane didn’t take hers, the staff member asked, “Would you prefer something else?”
That snapped her out of her shock. “No, this is fine. Thank you.” She took her drink and joined the others in a spacious area decorated in ivory with gold accents. There were numerous three-sided mirrors, and another area partitioned off by a thick white curtain trimmed with gilded filigree. Iain took one of the comfy-looking armchairs.
Josephine took the final long swallow and handed her empty flute to the staff. “Okay, I’m ready.” She gestured at two assistants who’d appeared out of nowhere. “Let’s see the stuff.”
They slipped into a side room and wheeled out a rack with at least fifty ensembles hanging off it. Josephine took another assessing look at Jane, who held her drink without taking a sip. “Something with some color and life. All that white on you looks boring. Sorry I’m not trying to insult you, Jane, but you really can do better.”
“I’m not offended,” Jane said. “Color and life both sound good.”
Josephine pulled out three dresses—pink, red and chartreuse. Jane blinked at the last one, unsure. “Trust me, it’ll look good on you.” Josephine pushed Jane into the covered area. “Change into any of them. Whichever you feel like trying on first.”
“Okay,” she called out. Let’s try the pink, she thought. It was sweet and feminine and pretty. And it had cute pearls around a modest neckline.
“What’s your shoe size?” Josephine called out.
“Um. Seven.”
An assistant slipped inside with three pairs of matching dress shoes and a tray of accessories. “Which would you like to try on?”
Jane frowned. “I’m just trying on the dress.” She wasn’t going to buy the dress, and she didn’t want to give anybody any ideas about selling her shoes and jewelry, too.
“I understand, but
it isn’t easy to appreciate the full effect without the proper…props.” The woman took a look then selected a diamond choker. “What about this?”
“Fine, I guess,” Jane said, giving up. She might as well just go with the flow.
More accessories were culled, shoes selected, and finally the woman nodded her approval.
Jane walked outside. She felt self-conscious and a bit silly. She could never afford anything like this, and she wasn’t pretty enough to pull off an outfit that was so ethereal.
Iain was sipping another glass of champagne when she walked out. He stopped in mid-tilt. “Damn.”
Jane lifted her head at Iain’s soft exclamation. He stared at her, his eyes dark and intent. She gave him a shy smile. “Like it?”
“You look gorgeous.”
Jane flushed, suddenly feeling beautiful. No. That wasn’t quite right. Beautiful wasn’t enough to describe the warm liquid feeling in her belly.
“That one’s very good, but I think we can do better. Why don’t you try the chartreuse?” Josephine said, breaking the moment.
“I don’t know. It just looks like the wrong color to me.” The chartreuse seemed a bit too…yellow or something.
Josephine raised her eyebrows. “Don’t try to second guess my judgment. It’s perfect.” She pushed Jane into the dressing room and closed the curtain, leaving her with a blank-faced assistant.
Jane took a deep breath. This was going to be a looooooong shopping excursion.
* * *
Iain watched Josephine sort through more racks of clothes, then turned his attention back to the dressing area. The pink dress was arresting despite its modest cut, but something about it had bothered him. Pink was overly girly and feminine, and more than a few of his exes had worn that color when they’d been trying for a cute-yet-sexy look. Hopefully the chartreuse would be better. One of the things he liked about Jane was that she didn’t try to look like anything except herself.
He rolled his shoulders. He’d come along because he wanted to see her reaction as she tried on the clothes. She’d probably never had anything nice, and he wanted to give her some of the simple luxuries in life. And nicer clothes would help her make better impressions, which would translate into more money in the job market.
