CHAPTER TWO
JAYNE might as well have stayed at home
for all the work she accomplished the next day. What happened to
competence? Disgusted with herself, she thumbed through the reports
left over from yesterday and sighed. Garrett Charles was haunting
her every waking moment and most of her sleeping ones as
well.
Over and over, she relived the
embarrassing moments from last night. She’d stared at him, attacked
him with the book cart and then lectured on who knows what. Her
only hope was that since she’d taught the class so many times, her
brain could coast for a while. She hoped it was coasting in
familiar waters.
Then there was the strange, unsettled
feeling she’d had lately. She probably needed a vacation. That was
it. Maybe she could talk Sylvia into one of those four-day cruises
that left from the Port of Houston. At the prospect, Jayne
immediately felt brighter.
That was it. She just needed a
vacation. Her life had become drab and predictable and her reaction
to Garrett was nature’s way of telling her that her social life
needed attention. A lot of attention. Her mother had always told
her she was going to be a late bloomer. Well, twenty-eight was late
and Jayne must be blooming.
On Thursday, class day, Jayne stood
indecisively in front of her closet. What to wear, what to
wear.
Her sartorial decisions usually
consisted of which version of a navy-blue suit she would wear.
Solid? Midnight-navy? Royal-blue navy? Pin-striped? Glenplaid ?
White blouse or pale blue? Blue on red tie or red on blue? She’d
always been pleased with her professional wardrobe. Now it all
looked too...too something. Predictable? Staid? Stuffy? All of the
above?
There was always her beige suit, which
she wore in the heat of summer, but she felt like a lightweight in
it.
Okay, she’d analyze the situation. She
wanted to appear competent to reassure everyone after Tuesday, so
she’d wear her most conservative, expensive, darkest suit with a
blinding white shirt and a regimental striped women’s ascot at the
neck. She’d add height with her highest heeled pumps.
She set off for work, feeling her old
competent self. It was a good feeling and one she wanted to hold on
to until her vacation.
“Hey, Jayne, you look ready to take on
the world,” commented Bill Pellman as she passed his cubicle on the
way to her office. “Big account on the hne?”
“No,” Jayne responded with deliberate
casualness, “but I do have class to teach tonight.”
Bill was young, eager and considered
Jayne his mentor—a pleasant, sexless mentor who lived for work just
as he did. Jayne sighed, thinking there was more truth there than
she liked.
“Any hot prospects?” he asked
now.
She thought of Garrett and her throat
went dry. “Not really,” she croaked and fled to her
office.
So much for renewed competence. Just
thinking of Garrett made her heart race, so she attempted to figure
out her surprising response to him.
Never in her life had she responded to
a man’s physical appearance with such...awareness. Parts of her
body, parts that were usually hibernating, had awakened. She wasn’t
even sure she was experiencing desire. Desire flourished when there
was a chance of being desired in return. Competent, realistic,
feetfirmly-on-the-ground Jayne Nelson did not attract the Garrett
Charles type of man. Her head knew that, but her body must have
short-circuited. That would explain the tingling.
She was staring off into the distance,
chewing on a pen, when Sylvia popped into her office.
“I’ve got a Schlotz’s Deli two-for-one
coupon. You interested?”
Jayne dropped her pen. “Is it time for
lunch already?”
Sylvia held up her arm, which was
decorated with three gaudy watches.
“Oh. Right.” Jayne pushed back her
chair and pulled her purse from the file drawer.
“Aren’t you going to change your
shoes?” Sylvia kicked out a sneaker-clad foot.
“Shoes?” Jayne blinked.
“The deli is at the other end of the
mall by the movie theater.”
“Oh. Right. I should change.” Pace
Waterman was in the Transco Tower, which was connected by a walkway
to Houston’s Galleria mall across the street. Jayne and Sylvia
frequently spent their lunch hours hiking through it for
exercise.
Jayne stood staring at the bank of
file drawers. Where was Garrett’s business? She hadn’t thought to
ask. What if he opened the agency right in the mall? She might see
him all the time now. She sighed.
Sylvia came into the room, gently
opened the supply cabinet and removed Jayne’s walking shoes.
“What’s up, Jayne?”
“Nothing.” Jayne slipped out of her
pumps and worked her feet into the sneakers. She felt her face grow
warm, so she bent to tie the shoes, hoping any evidence of a blush
might be hidden.
“You’re acting just like you did the
other night Are you feeling okay? Have you got an audit or
something this afternoon?”
“I’m fine!”
“Then...Jayne?” Sylvia nudged her arm.
“Have you met somebody?” she asked in a tone that meant “Have you
met a man?”
“No!” Jayne responded too quickly and
too loudly. She could tell by the triumphant smirk on Sylvia’s
face. Drat. Now Sylvia would worm everything out of her. Sylvia
could worm anything out of anybody. She was wasted in secretarial
work. Her true calling was espionage.
Jayne crossed her purse over her
shoulder bandolier-style and Sylvia linked their arms. “I want you
to tell me everything,”
she demanded.
“There’s nothing to tell,” Jayne
protested feebly.
Sylvia patted her arm. “Why don’t you
let me be the judge of that?”
Sylvia had wormed everything there was
to worm by the time they reached the elevator.
“That’s it?” She snorted in disgust as they exited
the elevator and made their way through the crowded foyer toward
the walkway.
“I told you there wasn’t anything to
tell,” Jayne pointed out, secretly hoping that Sylvia might put a
hopeful spin on the events of Tuesday night. But not even Sylvia
could interpret rendering succor after bashing someone in the leg
as flirtng.
“But I didn’t actually
believe you.” Sylvia
frowned, then shrugged. “No matter. We’ll find you a man yet. In
fact...” She cocked her head to one side.
“No,” Jayne refused automatically.
Sylvia was continually trotting out male relatives for Jayne to
date.
And sure enough... “My second cousin
Vincent is going to be in his roommate’s wedding in Galveston.
He’ll be staying with my aunt Ida a couple of nights. Why don’t
I—”
“No.” Jayne closed her eyes against
the thought of dating Sylvia’s second-tier relatives.
“Then ask out the man in your
class.”
Jayne swallowed her automatic “no” and
mentally tested the idea of asking out Garrett
Charles.
Not possible. “I probably shouldn’t
date students.” She walked faster.
“He’ll only be a student for a few
weeks. You’re just too wimpy,” Sylvia scolded, jogging to keep up
with her.
“I know.”
“Men like assertive women.”
Jayne shot her an exasperated look.
“On what planet?”
“Uh, Planet Eros?”
“See? Aliens.”
“Speaking of, how about I set you up
with Vincent?”
“Sylvia!”
She shrugged. “You gotta kiss a lot of
frogs before you find a prince.”
“For the last time, I do not want to
go out with your alien frog second cousin!”
However... Jayne stopped abruptly and
snagged Sylvia’s arm. They’d reached the end of the mall walkway
and were standing right by the travel agency they’d walked past on
a hundred other lunch hours.
“What? What?”
Jayne pointed to a bright poster
advertising fun in the Gulf of Mexico. “I think I need a vacation.
Or a change in my life. A vacation would be a change in my life.” She turned to
the gaping Sylvia. “I was thinking we could book one of those
four-day cruises. They’re not very expen—”
“Yes!” Sylvia had recovered from her
astonishment and was pushing Jayne through the double glass doors
and straight over to the brochure display. “This is the
best idea you’ve ever
had!” She started taking two of every brochure with a ship pictured
on it, handing one to Jayne as she babbled.
“When do you want to leave? Can we
wait until I lose five pounds? What if we save up and go for a
seven-day cruise? We’ll have to watch which line we pick.” She
stopped gabbing long enough to flip through one of the brochures.
“There are even singles cruises. We should go on one of those to
increase the odds. Okay. I think we’ve got one of each.” She smiled
brightly at Jayne. “Let’s go eat.”
Sylvia’s enthusiasm was infectious and
they window-shopped through the mall all the way to the deli. Jayne
followed Sylvia inside where she was nearly overwhelmed by the
pastrami and pickle smell.
Sylvia inhaled rapturously, then
sighed. “This will be our last pastrami on rye until after the
cruise.”
“It will?” Jayne asked, a little
overwhelmed by how fast and hard Sylvia had latched onto the cruise
idea.
“We’ll have to start dieting
immediately.” Sylvia flashed a big smile at a group of jacketless
men, who scooted down on the benches, making room for the two of
them. Or more precisely, for the vibrant Sylvia, who beckoned to
Jayne.
Jayne was accepted only because it was
obvious Sylvia wouldn’t sit without her. She sighed, but sat down
on the bench just the same.
By the time the men left a couple of
minutes later, Sylvia had collected three business
cards.
Jayne leafed through her brochures and
tried not to feel envious.
“So which ships look good?” Sylvia
asked as she tossed two business cards into the ashtray and wrote a
note to herself on the back of the third.
“I want to stick to the one that
leaves out of Houston,” Jayne said. “It’s more convenient.” She
found the cruise line’s brochure in Sylvia’s stack.
They paged through it until their
sandwiches arrived. Just as Sylvia closed the brochure, Jayne
caught a glimpse of compelling blue eyes. Blue eyes she’d sworn
she’d seen before.
This was sick. She was obsessing about
Garrett, imagining she saw him everywhere. Nevertheless, her heart
picked up speed as she opened her own copy. She’d either find those
eyes or she’d better start looking for a therapist.
Paying no attention at all to Sylvia’s
chatter, Jayne searched the brochure, locating him
immediately.
Garrett Charles was one of the people
posing as passengers for the cruise line. Several of the group were
in one of the deck lounges holding drinks with pineapple spears and
tiny umbrellas. Garrett and another man stood at the railing
nearby. He wore an open neck knit shirt that exposed his throat and
just enough chest hair to send Jayne into a near swoon. And that
was before she noticed his muscle definition. Once she saw those
pecs, Jayne was a goner. Khaki shorts revealed his legs. Or his
legs as they’d appeared before Jayne had bashed one with the book
cart.
And then she found the picture of
Garrett by the pool.
“So what do you say, Jayne?” Sylvia
asked.
“Yes, sure,” Jayne mumbled, intent on
getting back to the office as soon as possible so she could spend
the rest of the afternoon staring at a shirtless Garrett. Maybe if
she stared long enough, she’d get over him. He was only a man, for
heaven’s sake.
But it didn’t work, probably because
Garrett was no ordinary man. All staring at his pictures
accomplished, other than making her fall behind in her project
schedule, was to make her nervous about that evening’s
class.
She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t
chance another disaster. She’d find somebody else to teach the rest
of Accounting for Small Businesses. Somebody who wouldn’t turn into
a bundle of lusting nerves at the sight of Garrett Charles.
Somebody like...
“Bill, think of this as an opportunity
to acquire new accounts.” Jayne spoke in her most mentorlike voice.
“I’ve been analyzing your performance during the first half of this
fiscal year, and I believe you’re ready to handle one of the
recruitment classes.”
“You think so?” The expression of
doubt Bill had worn since Jayne first broached the subject of
teaching her classes faded.
Jayne leaned a well-padded hip against
his desk and crossed her arms over her chest. “People equate age
with experience—”
“That’s why you dress the way you do,”
Bill interrupted, nodding his understanding.
“What do you mean?” Jayne straightened
and looked down at herself. “What’s wrong with the way I
dress?”
“Nothing. It’s very effective. Isn’t
that what I said?”
“Effective for what?”
“Jayne.” Bill grimaced with
impatience. “Clients look at you and see that you’re all business.”
He gestured with his hand. “Suit, shirt and tie equals
business.”
“Oh.” Jayne was placated—
“Nobody would ever guess you’re as
young as you are.”
—until that crack. She gritted her
teeth.
“So you think these classes are a way
I can nab some new accounts?” asked the oblivious
Bill.
“Yes,” Jayne assured him with less
enthusiasm than before. “Since you’re young and inexperienced,” she
enjoyed pointing out, “this is a way to demonstrate your competence
to potential clients.”
“Could be cool.” Bill nodded to
himself then announced, “Okay, I’ll do it, but I can’t
tonight—”
Jayne panicked. “You
have to! I mean, I have
plans.”
“Oh?” He drew out the syllable and
eyed her speculatively. “What sort of plans?”
“Private plans,” she said with an edge
of desperation.
Bill raised an eyebrow and Jayne felt
herself flush. “So it wasn’t strictly my stellar performance that
prompted this burst of generosity?”
“I...” Jayne gave up. “Not entirely,
no, but I wouldn’t have asked you if I hadn’t thought you were
ready,” she said in a version of the truth she hoped he’d
accept.
But Bill had already figured out that
he had the upper hand in the negotiations. Jayne had trained him
too well. “Sorry, but no can do tonight, Jayne. And next Tuesday is
iffy. The Magruder report, you know.”
Jayne knew. All fledgling accountants
filled out the tedious and much-loathed monthly Magruder report,
biding their time until they could palm it off onto someone with
less seniority.
“You’re welcome to find somebody else
to finish your session if that’ll be a problem.”
There was a gleam in Bill’s eyes that
Jayne didn’t like. She drew a deep breath. “No, I’ll teach tonight
and research the raw data for the Magruder. This was short notice
for you anyway.”
“You’re sure?”
Anything to get out of this class.
“Definitely. I’ll have the course materials on your desk by noon
tomorrow.” The little weasel.
Just knowing that tonight was the last
time she’d have to struggle to compose herself in front of Garrett
Charles was enough for Jayne to settle down and do some actual
work. Her confidence restored, she planned to lecture on
bookkeeping, her favorite subject. She’d give the most detailed,
information-laden lecture in the history of Pace Waterman seminars.
She’d leave Garrett Charles overwhelmed by her
brilliance.
But when Jayne strode confidently into
the conference room, Garrett was conspicuously absent.
Deflated, she waited as long as she
could before reluctantly beginning her lecture. Her best subject
and he was going to miss it. He’d forever remember her as the
bumbling, frizzy-headed—though that was entirely Sylvia’s
fault—Pace Waterman accountant.
At seven-fifteen, Garrett slipped into
the room Or tried to. Dressed in a severe charcoal suit, with white
shirt and dark tie, he looked utterly stunning. As one, the female
students sighed audibly.
“Sorry I’m late,” he murmured. “I had
a prior engagement.”
Jayne’s hormones leaped at the word
“engagement.” No! You can’t have
him! they shouted. We want
him! We want him! and she had to calm them down by
telling them that engagement didn’t mean approaching marriage in
this sense.
Of course while she conversed with her
hormones, she was staring at him again. And realizing this
triggered the hyperventilation and sweaty palms with which she was
becoming so regrettably familiar.
Nevertheless, she sucked in her
stomach, wiped her palms, held her breath and launched into the
fabulous bookkeeping lecture she’d prepared. “I recommend the
double entry method of keeping track of your income and expenses.
Here’s why...”
“Sylvia, I was brilliant! Absolutely
brilliant!” Jayne hugged herself the next morning, then snatched
the chocolate doughnut out of Sylvia’s hand and whirled around her
office.
“You’re always brilliant.” Sylvia sat
on Jayne’s couch and peeled the plastic cover off her coffee cup.
“That’s why I hang around you. I keep hoping some of your smarts
will rub off on me.”
“But you don’t understand.” Jayne bit
into and hurriedly swallowed some of the doughnut. “This time I was
brilliant brilliant. You
should have seen their faces. The class hung on every word. There
wasn’t a sound out of them, not even when I forgot the eight
o’clock break.”
“You talked for two solid
hours?”
“Yes! I was fantastic.” Jayne returned
to her desk, opened her coffee and emptied it into her favorite
thermal mug. “When they left, everybody was real quiet and
thoughtful.”
“Are you sure they were
awake?”
Jayne frowned. “Of course. They were
digesting everything I’d told them.”
Sylvia picked the walnuts out of her
whole wheat apple muffin and dropped them into the ashtray. “You
think maybe you gave them too much to eat?”
“Hardly. I could have gone on for
another two hours.” Jayne sipped her coffee to keep from running
over and whisking the ashtray out of Sylvia’s reach.
“Then why aren’t you?” Sylvia asked
and bit into her muffin.
“Why aren’t I what?” Jayne asked
crossly. If Sylvia didn’t like nuts, why did she always get the
same muffin? Why not blueberry? Why leave nuts in Jayne’s ashtray
all the time?
“Teaching two more hours. Why’d you
get Bill to finish your classes?”
“He’s got to learn
sometime.”
Sylvia popped the last of her muffin
into her mouth and brushed her hands together. Jayne could see
little brown crumbs dotting the forest-green leather of the
sofa.
“But why this time?” Sylvia stood. “Honestly, Jayne.
Here, according to you, was a gorgeous man sitting right in your
class and you didn’t even invite him for coffee
afterward.”
“Oh, please. He wouldn’t go for coffee
with me.”
“Did you ask?”
“No,” Jayne mumbled and took a huge
bite of her doughnut so she wouldn’t have to discuss the matter
with Sylvia anymore.
“And now, in a move guaranteed to
squelch any possibility that you two could get together—” Jayne
nearly choked “—you’ve quit the class.” Sylvia left, shaking her
head. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re reconsidering my cousin Vincent I
understand he’s filled out some.”
Sylvia was wrong, wrong, wrong—and not
just about reconsidering Vincent Jayne had done the right thing. It
was pointless to wish for what one couldn’t have, wasn’t it?
Especially if the wishing was interfering with the pursuit of what
one could obtain, which
was, in Jayne’s case, a measure of corporate and financial
security. If she achieved success in the business world now, then
when the young men of her generation decided it was time to settle
down and look around for suitable life mates, there would be nice,
solid Jayne and her little nest egg, ready to hatch.
At least that had been the plan until
now. Jayne wasn’t going to be passively waiting around anymore. She
may not be Garrett Charles material, but he’d shaken up her life in
a good way, she told herself. After all, wasn’t she planning a
cruise with Sylvia?
So, on Tuesday night, just about the
time Garrett Charles was entering the conference room at Pace
Waterman, Jayne, attired in her velour robe with the threadbare
elbows, was parked in front of her television set while dining on
her favorite feel-good meal—canned ravioli, M&M’s and diet
cola. She’d swathed her head in a towel while her hair soaked in a
deep conditioner, which promised to counteract the effects of
Sylvia’s recent home perm. The movie playing on her video recorder
was How to Marry a
Millioieaire, from which Jayne hoped to pick up tips,
both financial and matrimonial.
She picked up neither, but after
consuming the ravioli and the M&M’s—and adding rum to her diet
cola—didn’t really care.
She cared the next morning, though. A
lot. However, there was a bonus to falling asleep on the couch with
her head soaking in conditioner. Her hair, which had resembled a
pale brown dandelion, now lay in greasy kinks reminiscent of
corkscrew pasta. Jayne felt this was an improvement.
But her face was too pale. Color. She
needed color. Eventually she folded one of her scarves into a
headband and tied her hair back. In the bathroom mirror, a bare
face stared back at her. Jayne wasn’t used to seeing that much of
her face at one time. She pulled out a few wisps of bangs, though
they didn’t want to wisp anymore and began a desperate search for
the pearl earrings that her grandparents had given her for
graduation and she hadn’t worn since. Why bother with earrings when
her hair usually covered her ears?
Friday was not shaping up into the
best of days. She had doubts about her appearance when she caught
regulars on her Park & Ride bus giving her second looks. Or, it
could be the sunglasses she wore, but didn’t everyone notice how
blindingly bright the lights were? Had all the lightbulbs been
changed for ones with a higher wattage? What a waste of taxpayer
dollars.
Hoping to clear her head, she forced
herself to walk at a brisker pace from the Galleria stop to the
Transco Tower. Entering the air-conditioned foyer, she realized
she’d left her business pumps at her apartment and would either
have to wear the battered rain pair she kept in her office, or her
tennis shoes all day.
“Hey, Jaynie!” hooted the delivery
courier when Jayne tried to sneak past the reception area. She
detested the name Jaynie. “Ooh, look who tied one on last night!”
He grinned.
Jayne didn’t grin back, her attention
caught by the expression on Beth, the receptionist’s face.
Gad, I must look awful.
The scarf apparently wasn’t providing the pick-me-up to her
appearance that she’d hoped.
“Weeeell,” said Bill when she slunk by his
cubicle. “Still waters run deep.”
Jayne ignored his crack. “How was
class last night?”
“You mean the class I’m teaching so
your evenings would be
free?” Bill grinned wolfishly and leaned back in his
chair.
Jayne stared him down, hoping he’d tip
over.
“Not talking, are you?”
“Not unless it’s about
class.”
“Okay. I wanted to talk to you about
that, too.” Bill straightened in an abrupt shift from obnoxious to
businesslike. “Mr. Waterman says he’s had six calls from people in
the class wanting to sign accounting agreements with us. That’s
twenty-five percent of the enrollment. There’ve only been three
classes—what did you do to them? And more important, can you teach
me how to do it?”
The only explanation Jayne could think
of was that the people in her class missed her and didn’t want to
continue the course without her. Personally gratifying, but that
wasn’t going to encourage Bill, was it? And she wanted him to
continue teaching, didn’t she? So she shrugged. “No secret. I just
followed the curriculum.”
Bill raised an eyebrow. “There were
comments about bookkeeping being too complicated.”
Jayne wished she hadn’t been quite so
considerate of his feelings. “Then they weren’t paying attention,”
she mumbled and edged away from Bill’s cubicle.
“When I tried to review bookkeeping to see where
you’d left off, it appeared that you didn’t leave off anywhere.” He
leaned back in his chair so his head stuck out of the cubicle. “Did
you really cover the whole section in one night?”
“I was on a roll.” Jayne escaped,
feeling defensive. Treat people like they’ve got brains and see
what happens. On the other hand, the company had six new accounts,
so Mr. Waterman should be happy.
But...didn’t any of those six people
request Jayne as their accountant?
Feeling sorry for herself, she shut
her office door and sank onto the small sofa she’d inherited from
the office’s previous occupant. Opening the cruise brochure, she
stared at Garrett Charles and sighed. So handsome. So out of
reach.
So get over
him. Closing the book on that part of her life, Jayne
put on her reading glasses, and got to work on the stupid Magruder
report for Bill.
After half an hour, she threw the pen
she’d been chewing at the computer monitor in disgust Sloppy,
sloppy, sloppy. No wonder Bill wanted to palm off the Magruder.
Standards had really fallen since Jayne had paid her dues by filing
the report. She’d hoped to finish it within an hour and get to her
own work, but that wasn’t going to be.
Examining back copies of the weekly
report, Jayne discovered an error that had been repeated for at
least three months. She didn’t have time to go back further, but
some poor intern would.
She was composing a memo to Mr.
Waterman about the problem, when the silver-haired gentleman
knocked on her open door.
“Jayne, are you busy?” It was a
rhetorical question and they both knew it.
“No,” Jayne answered, just as
rhetorically. At least she hoped Mr. Waterman knew she was speaking
rhetorically.
“Good. I’d like you to meet a new
client.” He stood to one side and a tall, dark-haired man carrying
a briefcase entered Jayne’s office. “This is Garrett Charles. He’s
requested you to be his account executive.”