Jane Eyre Austen (13 page)

He stood up, “Call Clayton, tell him I want to see him Monday morning at eight.  I’ll have Jane sit down with him.”

“I doubt that will be necessary, she has a lawyer.  You sent white roses to the hospital, by the way.”

He smiled warmly, “Thanks Fairfax, thank you very much.”  He leaned down and quickly kissed her cheek and was out the door before he heard her squeak in surprise.

Patrick and Ben greeted Jane at her house early Saturday afternoon.  She was working on Tessa’s photographs, and uploading them for Missy to approve.  Ben sat down with her mother; he brought Indian Food and a Scrabble board.

“Good evening Mrs. Austen, I have brought your repast and a pastime.  I hope that you indulge me.”  He took her hand and kissed it, settling down on the floor in front of her chair and pulling the table over.

She laughed, “I’m honored to have your company Benjamin.”

Jane ran upstairs to change while her laptop chugged away.  Patrick knocked gently on the door before entering; his suit bag was slung over his wide shoulder. 

“Thanks for going with me tonight Jane.  Have you chosen a dress?”

She glanced at her closet, “I know you want to dress me, just go pick one out already.”

“Sweet!”  He flicked through her closets, “It’s black and white tonight.  Do you have a preference?”

She sat down at her vanity, brushing her hair, pulling it back.  “Not the silver, I’m saving that for New Year’s.”

He unzipped a bag and breathed out, “Jesus, did you paint this?”

Her eyes flicked toward him, “Yeah, I don’t know if it fits.”  She stood up walking over toward him, “I’ll try it on, and I made a matching cummerbund.”

He pulled the dress out and laid it on the bed, when he pulled it out he sniffed, “Ugh, when was the last time you aired this out?”

“A couple of years, I think that’s the fabric paint.  We can throw it in the dryer with a couple of dryer sheets.”  She pulled off her jeans and top and leaned over the bed, unzipping the dress.

He gawked at her and she rolled her eyes, “Oh shut up and zip me.”

“You know it’s emasculating to strip like that in front of me, as if I’m not a threat.”

“You are not a threat Patrick, and you’ve seen it all before.  Will it zip?”

The dress was another in her Edith Head/Escher love child collection.  Although Edith Head designed the costumes for Funny Face, the dress was actually designed by Givenchy.  The red dress Audrey Hepburn wore; strapless, fitted, long, with a slit in the back hidden by a train.  Jane had made the dress out of black fabric, and had painted the Escher’s design Sky and Water in silver.  In some lights the dress appeared to have a lace pattern on it, but when the light hit it just right, the fish appeared, leaving the birds in black behind.

He pulled it up, “it’s a little tight up top, did you grow boobs babe?”

“Unhook my bra, maybe I can get away with squishing them in.”

He complied, and she readjusted herself and he easily zipped it up.  “Jane, this is so cool!  Check yourself out.”

She looked; the dress had fit looser on her two years ago.  She turned around, “Oh my God, my ass looks huge!”  Silver fish swimming across her butt mocked those few pounds she had gained since moving home.

Patrick grunted, “Your ass looks amazing.  You have to wear this.”  He looked skeptical, “If we can get rid of that smell.”

She turned around, “Ok, unzip me please.”  She held the dress up in front and stared at him.

“Uh, I’m not a threat,” he smirked.

She held the dress in place, grabbed her shirt and pulled it on before releasing the dress.  She pulled her jeans on and took the dress, wrap, and cummerbund to the laundry room.  She put the clothes in her Dryel bag added six Bounce sheets and turned the dryer on warm for thirty minutes.

She poured some wine and handed them around, ignoring Ben’s stare at her chest.  Her mother was talking on the phone with a neighbor, and Ben motioned for them to go into the kitchen.

“I researched Poole this week.” Ben said as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

Jane sighed and sat down at the kitchen table, facing him.  “Do I want to know?”

Ben nodded, “First, he never slept with that Julia chick, and she really bitched about that.  She’s now doing an eye doctor.”  Ben sipped his wine and looked over at Patrick, “He also dated Tatiana Schroeder.”

Patrick whistled, “When was that?”

“About a year and a half ago.”  Ben looked at Jane, “I don’t know if he slept with her, but given that we know her, it’s probable.”

Jane swallowed, “What do you mean, know her?”

Patrick looked apologetic but Ben just grinned, “She’s a beautiful woman Jane, and very curious.”  He winked, “And a whole lot of fun.”

Jane rolled her eyes, “I see.”

Patrick spoke up, “She’s also very discreet.”

Jane puzzled over their comments and then narrowed her eyes, “Where does Ms. Schroeder work?”

Ben grinned and said innocently, “She’s a private contractor.”

“And he dated her?” Jane said shocked.

Ben nodded, “They were seen together on a few occasions.  The thing is Janie; she specializes in a sort of play.”

Jane put her fingers in her ears and started singing, “La-la-la,” she didn’t want to know.

Ben held up his hands in defense, “Ok, no more.”

She removed her fingers and sighed.  “What do I
need
to know?”

Ben shrugged, “He could be kinky. He likes you, though.  He hasn’t dated anyone since his wife died, well, unless you count Tatiana, but I doubt those were dates.”

“Enough, Ben.”  Jane drank the rest of her wine, unable to sort out the kind of man Grayson Poole really was.  She looked at Patrick, “And why did you two know this woman?”

Patrick looked to Ben to explain.  Ben chuckled and kissed Jane’s cheek, whispering, “We wanted to have a threesome and you refused us.  What’s a guy to do?”

“Men are pigs, you know that right?”  She muttered.

Ben smiled, and lifted both eyebrows.  “Another thing I learned is about his wife Elizabeth.  They were married about three years; she died of preeclampsia in their bed at home.  He sold the house; it was in Hillsborough, completely furnished and bought the house in the City.”  He looked at Jane, “He made a ton of money out of it too, sold it to some rich Japanese guy.”

She heard her mother call out, and Ben topped off his wine and went back to the front room.  Jane pulled the clothes from the dryer and carefully hung them over her arm.

Patrick nudged her up the stairs, “Ok, hair and makeup time.”

“You’re not doing my hair and makeup.”

“No, I just like to watch.”  He sat on the bed, watching her work her hair into a complicated updo.  “I don’t think I like Gray Poole.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve seen him with you, and you consider him a threat,” he said it evenly.

“You’re pouting because I trust you to not take advantage of me?”

He raised an eyebrow, “I’m not pouting.  Do you think he would take advantage of you?”

“Before I throw myself panting at his feet, begging him to take me?  Nah.”

“Do tell Jane.  What are you blushing about now?”

She recounted the kiss, the hit and run as Fairfax put it, and Patrick grinned.  “I’m surprised, he seems so reserved.”

“Did he punch Ben back?”

Patrick scoffed, “No.”

She shrugged, “So, he took a punch from Ben and didn’t retaliate; spent the day with you glaring at him; bought my painting; complimented my dress; enjoys my sense of humor; and he is kind to my mother.  Why don’t you like him again?”

Patrick rolled his eyes, “He is good with your mother.  He’s kind of old though, and he’s got a kinky side.”

She sprayed hairspray and began applying foundation.  “He’s older, yes.  I find him attractive.”

He smirked, “Yes he is, great mouth.”

She clucked her tongue, “Ok, enough of that mister.”

Patrick looked at her carefully, “Jane, doesn’t it bother you that he believes the rumors. I mean, he wouldn’t have asked Ben if it didn’t.”

She felt her cheeks grow red, and she shrugged, turning back around and concentrating on putting on eye makeup. 

“I’m sorry Jane.” Patrick said quietly.

She looked at his reflection in the mirror and grinned, “I’m not, and I don’t have any regrets about us.”  She sighed, returning to face, “Why is it that all men want a virgin?”

“It’s a jealousy thing, wanting to mark someone as yours and yours alone.  By the way, one of the board members is stalking me, so don’t disappear with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome.”

She turned around quickly and squeaked, “He’s going to be there?”

Patrick shrugged, “He bought a table.  I assume he’s going to be there.”

As the color drained from her face she drained her wine. 

Clayton stood at the bar, pulling at his collar and talking to Poole, “She was right about the plant in Michigan.  Financially it’s a wash, but marketing wise it’s phenomenal.  Any idea how she heard about them?”

Poole shook his head, “Probably Google.”

Clayton muttered, “Or maybe she works for the plant in Michigan.”

Karen gasped, “Wow, she looks amazing!”

Poole and Clayton followed Karen’s gaze to the end of the bar, Jane was on Patrick’s arm and listening to a woman talking animatedly to Patrick.  Jane looked up sensing the stares and nodded politely.

“I don’t understand how a receptionist affords so many dresses.” Clayton mused.

Poole glared, “She makes them Clay.  Don’t believe the gossip, ok?”

Clayton nodded, embarrassed at the chastisement.

Gray spotted Missy and waved, but Missy bee lined it to Jane and hugged her, almost yanking her from Patrick’s arm.  Patrick immediately placed his arm protectively around Jane’s waist and Gray was happy for the excuse to join them.

Gray recognized the woman talking to Patrick, a recently divorced socialite, poured into an expensive dress.  Her face looked like it had undergone a recent chemical peel; it was shiny and pink but smooth.  As he approached he heard her aggressively pursuing Patrick, inviting him to come to his house and do renovations.  Patrick seemed nonplussed, but it explained the arm around Jane, and her refusal to leave his side.

“Missy, it’s good to see you.”  Gray leaned in and kissed her cheek.  She threw her arms around him, surprising him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, releasing her.

“Nothing!  Oh my God, you have to see these.”  She pulled out her phone and handed it to him, the photos Jane had taken of Tess were on there.  He stopped when he saw Tess riding an elephant in the backyard.

Turning the phone to the woman next to him he said, “Isn’t that clever.  How did you manage that Jane?”

The woman looked at the phone, annoyed at his interruption and then stopped suddenly, “Grayson Poole, it’s nice to finally meet you.  I’m Jackie Connor.”  She shook his hand too firmly and held it too long.  Patrick seemed amused and pleased.

“Nice to meet you Mrs. Connor, you’ve done a beautiful job organizing this event tonight.”  He then turned to Jane, “How, Jane?”

She shrugged, “Photoshop.  Tess said she loved elephants and zebras.”

Missy grabbed the phone, “Wait until you see this one!”  She flipped through several photos, all of which were his niece looking incredibly adorable, she stopped and handed the phone back and he laughed.

“God, that’s really clever!”  His niece was holding a dog leash, looking over her shoulder and directly into the eyes of a zebra.  Apparently taking her pet zebra for a walk, her face was carefree, and she was wearing overalls and sneakers, somehow Jane had made the background look like a farm.

Missy said, “Look at the next one.”

He flipped to the next picture and now the zebra was rainbow striped, in the next one it was spotted.  The next picture she was sitting in a tree, grinning and absolutely precious, with fairies wings on her back, the lighting on the tree making some parts iridescent.  Missy looked over his shoulder, “I think I want this one as the watercolor.  God these are so amazing it’s impossible to choose!”

She hugged Gray again, “You are the best Uncle, ever!”

He hugged her tightly, “You are most welcome.”  He looked at Jane, and mouthed thank you.

Jackie looked at Jane critically, “Do you do senior portraits?”

Jane blinked, “Um, no, sorry.”  She turned to Patrick and said quietly, “Excuse us, please,” and dragged him away and closer to the bar.  Patrick ordered drinks and they were about two steps away when the mayor approached Patrick.  They started talking shop, the mayor picking his brain about future projects and which construction companies he trusted.  Jane finished her wine too quickly and was surprised when a hand took her glass and replaced it.