The Anatomy of Jane (30 page)

“You hate us both that much?”

“Thanks for the lunch.” I got back up. “But I realize you still make me sick, so I’m going to eat my lunch alone.”

“Maxwell. I’m warning—”

“Enjoy your lunch; I hear the food here is to die for.” I didn’t want to waste another moment with him.

‘Your maître is putting out feelers. I’ve counted three crotch glances, a onceover, and a graze of the hand. Apparently I’m worth the risk.’

“What the fuck?” I hissed, sitting up.

“What is it?” Jane came out of the bathroom drying her hair with a towel.

“Nothing, I’m just firing someone,” I muttered more to myself than to her. The first text he sends, and it’s this shit. He was fucking with me on purpose.

I tried to think of what to say to that, but nothing came to mind. Dropping the phone, I laid back down.

I fucking hate this shit.

“Wes?”

“I’m fine,” I snapped.

“Just call him.” She sighed and lay beside me, resting her head on my chest. “You and I both know he’s not going to give in.”

“I can’t.” If I did, we wouldn’t work. He would never get it. Picking up the phone again, I held it above both of us and took a photo.

“What are you doing?!”

“Replying.” I sent him an image and typed out,
‘I doubt he or anyone else could make up for the two of us.’

“You two are getting on my last nerves!” She kicked me while grabbing a pillow from under my head.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m sleeping on the couch downstairs. From now on, I’m not indulging you either. Keep your hands to yourself. Don’t hug me. Don’t kiss me. Nothing until you two stop acting like children and start acting like my men again.” She slammed the door behind her.

She wanted us to just kiss and make up? I’d have loved to, but how could I make up with someone who didn’t realize the problem to begin with?

Chapter Nineteen

“Door open,” the automatic voice said.

Stepping around the kitchen island, I went to the door expecting it to be them but instead, Irene stumbled in with a bottle of wine and a bag of Thai food.

“Not who you were hoping for, huh?”

“How did you get in here?” No one knew the code with the exception of…

“Jane,” she replied, letting herself into the penthouse. “And before you get mad at her, she said your password would be changed tomorrow anyway, so let’s eat.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue, so I ignored her and entered the living room.

“Max this place is a pigsty!”

Sitting down, I flipped through the time logs in front of me.

“Where do you keep your plates?”

He was there on the twenty-second. Why does this keep overlapping?

“You can ignore me all you want, but I’m not going home.”

LL. Goddamn it, if I see this name one more time.

“Max!”

“WHAT?” I hollered at her, not realizing she was right next to me. She jumped back, eyes wide. “I’m sorry Irene, but I’m working. This is important to me. I can’t deal with whatever shit you’ve fallen into right now.”

She glared for a second then downed both glasses of wine. She bunched up her fists and took a deep breath before speaking. “First off, you asshole, I came here because Jane begged me to. She said you weren’t replying to her texts or calls any more. She said she was worried and was coming back tonight. I’m sorry it had to be me, your screwed up cousin, but seeing as how Jane has no one else’s number because you make it a habit of pushing everyone who cares about you out of your life, I thought I’d actually come and check up on you seeing as how it’s been three days since I last saw you on air either. Glad to know you aren’t dead, you dick.”

Three days?
I reached for my phone, but it was dead.

“I’ve been working,” I whispered, staring at it. “Honestly, I didn’t realize she’d been trying to contact me.”

I’d pushed everything out of my mind in order to focus. It was easier that way. The moment I got off track, I found myself moping around, and I didn’t have time for that. There was so much going on in my head, it felt like it was going to explode.

“Well, just call her okay? I’ll leave so you can get back to whatever this is…” She waved over the papers and photos in front of me. Moving over, she kissed my cheek. “Get some rest before she comes back too…maybe clean up. I know she was a maid, but a welcome home mess isn’t the way to go.”

“Thank you for your wisdom, Irene.”

She winked before going back to the kitchen to get her bag. Following her when she got to the door, she turned back to me and smiled. It was a real, genuine smile; I hadn’t seen one on her face in years.

“I met someone. Someone great,” she told me. “I really wanted to tell you.”

“Why me?”

She looked annoyed at that. “You’re really going to make me say it.”

“Say what?”

“I love you, you big idiot. Honestly, you’ve always been important to me, like a big brother. I know I’m always a mess, so telling you that I’ve met someone, a normal everyday good person, from a good family, who really cares about me, is important. Maybe I can introduce you to him and all that when you aren’t busy with work.”

“Yeah.” I didn’t know what else to say until she got the elevators. “Irene.”

“What?”

“I love you, too.”

She smiled, waving back at me. “I know! But it’s good to hear.”

Waiting for the elevator doors to close, I walked back inside. Flipping the phone around in my hand again, I went up to my room where the charger was plugged in the bedside lamp as always. In the last three days, I couldn’t remember coming up there. I had slept on the couch for the most part. Entering the bathroom, I nearly gave myself a heart attack as I pissed. The man in the reflection looked not at all like me. I hadn’t shaved since they’d left, there were food stains all over my shirt, and my black hair was standing straight up in every direction.

“Jesus Christ, Max,” I muttered to myself, flushing the toilet and stripping down. I had just turned on the water to wash my hands when I heard it.

BUZZ

BUZZ

BUZZ

BUZZ

BUZZ

BUZZ

My phone was vibrating so much it fell off the stand. Picking it up, a stream of messages came in nonstop.

‘I doubt he or anyone else could make up for the two of us.’

I had no idea what he was talking about, but the picture of them together bothered me.

‘You and Wes are both pissing me off. Just talk about it okay. It’s night here so talk to you later.’

‘Morning’

‘Feel like talking today?’

‘I guess not.’

‘Wes misses you, he’s just can’t let himself give in.’

‘The host has a husband. You sure you weren’t just imagining he was hitting on you?’

Oh! I had completely forgotten I’d texted him about that.

‘Max! Back to the most important thing in the world…me. I think I found something I actually like doing…guess what?’

‘I’ll just tell you then. I went to this dress store and there’s this old woman that has been making dresses for the girls here for the last twenty years. She’s hilarious. I think I might want to make clothes! Sure I’m not going to be the next Ralph Laruen or anything, but maybe a small store somewhere. The moment I thought it, it was like everything become clear, and I got this big fat duh. I’ve been making, sewing, and fitting almost all of my own clothes since I was thirteen. What do you think?’

‘Jane feels like she found her meaning in life. The least you can do is text back.’

‘I get you’re pissed at Wes but don’t stop talking to me!’

‘Are you okay?’

‘
Max. I tuned in to see you on the news. You weren’t on tonight?’

‘Are you all right?’

‘If you’re fucking with me Max, I swear to God I’ll beat the shit out of you.’

‘Call us.’

‘We are coming back home. Nothing better have happened to you.’

Ten missed calls: Jane.

Thirteen missed calls: Wes.

“Your voicemail is full, please clear the messages. First message,” the automatic voice said before I heard Jane’s voice.

“Hey, I’m calling just to check up? You’re kind of freaking us out. Call us back, okay?”

“Next message.” This one was Wes. He took a deep breath. “You win. I give in. Call me.”

“Next message.” It was a Jane again. “Wes is in love with you. You know that. He knows that. I think what happened was…your mom freaked him out. She honestly freaked us both out. When you love someone you want to share that openly, and you don’t want to hide; you don’t want to become a dirty little secret or worse completely pushed out. Part of me feels like this is my fault. I’m sorry…”

“Next message.” Jane. “I’m sorry because I butted in between the both of you. I’m also sorry because I’m really happy I did. I’m happy with you both, so you not answering the phone is terrifying. I have abandonment issues. You can’t check out like this. It fucks me up emotionally.”

“Final message.” Wes. “We’ll be back in Boston sometime around midnight. We’ll talk then. I love you.”

“End of messages.”

I sat there so overwhelmed that my lungs burned, or at least at first I thought it was my lungs from the aching pain in my chest. It wasn’t my lungs; my heart ached. It ached to hear them sounding so scared. It ached to know they cared so much. I just ached, and the harder I tried to calm myself down, the more painful it became.

I called Jane back first, knowing both of them would get the messages when they landed.

“Jane.” I spoke to her voicemail feeling like an absolute idiot. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to ignore your text or calls. I’ve been working on this story…but that’s bullshit and not an excuse. I feel like a complete shit. You opening a boutique is an amazing idea, but don’t count yourself out. You really could be the next Ralph Lauren. We’ll talk about it when you come home…yeah home, because I’m glad you’re in the middle, too. I’m glad we both have you. Sorry again.”

Hanging up, I dialed Wes but, as expected, he didn’t answer, and I ending up speaking into his voicemail too. “I’m an ass—you knew that when you first met me—but I’d never fuck you like this. I’m sorry I have been out of it. When you get home we’ll talk…fuck this…I’m coming to the airport. I’ll even bring flowers or some shit…cause…cause… I love you too, Wes. Screw what my mother says.”

Rushing back to the phone, I dialed quickly.

“Hello, Mary’s Magnificent Maids—”

“It’s Maxwell Emerson. I need a maid, maybe two, at my penthouse this evening. They need to be done by midnight. I don’t care the cost. Is that possible?”

“Of course, Mr. Emerson.”

“Good, I’ll send you the code,” I said, hanging up on her.

I then entered the bathroom and grabbed my razor and comb. I honestly felt nervous. How the fuck was I going to explain how I’d gotten so wrapped up in work that I chose to forget about them for three days when they cared enough to panic about me? I really was a fucking ass. I knew they’d be pissed, and that we’d all end up fighting…but after that…we’d be fine.