for most of her twenty-six years she’d tried to blend in, to be as unnoticeable as possible. She kept her straight hair pulled back, wore plain black-rimmed glasses, neutral functional clothes and no makeup. It worked. People hardly noticed her, especially if she wasn’t right next to them.
She was, in the most literal sense, a plain Jane. The old-fashioned name which had been her grandmother’s suited her well.
Across from her, Trey cocked his head and looked at her intensely. “Jane, you wouldn’t…”
She frowned. “Wouldn’t what?”
He leaned forward in what she recognized as his pitch position. “Jane, you know I’d never want you to do something you’re uncomfortable with.”
Her heart lurched to her throat. “Like making coffee for my boss?” She tried to make her tone light but her voice was barely more than a whisper.
He smiled. “How about pretending you’re engaged to your boss?”
Had she heard him correctly? Or had she slipped into a dream? “You want me to—”
“You’re right, it’s completely outside the bounds of your job description. I have no right to even ask, but I’m asking anyway. Will you even consider it?”
Jane felt the heat of self-consciousness creep into her cheeks. “Trey, who would believe you’d marry me?”
“Why not?” He looked genuinely puzzled and for that she felt more affection for him than she ever had before.
Her chest warmed into an ache. “Well, I’m hardly a glamour girl.”
He leaned back in his chair and appraised her. “I don’t even know what that means. You’d do just fine.” He must have realized how unenthusiastic that sounded because he immediately added, “You’d be great. Probably even better than Victoria.”
Jane gave a laugh. “There’s no way you’re going to make me believe that.”
“Please consider it,” he said soberly. “Please.”
“It would never work.”
“It has to.”
She took a slow, calming breath. “Well…”
“Is that a yes?”
“If you really think this can work…”
“Is that a yes?” he pressed again. “Please say that’s a yes.”
She shrugged. “I guess it is.”
He smiled broadly. “Jane, Jane, Jane, you are a lifesaver. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Just doing my job,” she said, in what she had intended to be a joke.
He scoffed. “This goes well beyond the call of duty. Obviously I’ll pay you overtime for this.”
“Pay?” she echoed in a whisper. “I was only kidding. You wouldn’t need to pay me.”
“Of course I would, it’s work. I’ll give you time and a half. No, double time.”
“That’s really not necessary. I’m honestly glad to be able to help.”
He gave a long sigh that was clearly relief, and looked at her with unabashed pleasure. “There aren’t a lot of girls like you in this world.”
She raised an eyebrow and started to speak, but he interrupted her. “Women,” he corrected. “People. There aren’t a lot of people in the world like you.”
She smiled. “Or like you.”
His smile dimmed fractionally and he looked at her with serious eyes. “What on earth would I ever do without you?” The intensity of his gaze, as well as his words, made pleasure coil like a snake in the pit of Jane’s stomach.
He appreciated her. She actually meant something to him. Until today she had never really been sure of that.
She glanced down, practically circling her toe on the ground in front of her. “You’d do fine, Trey. You always do.”
Trey watched Jane as she walked away from him. After she closed the door, he slumped down in his chair and let out a long breath. Had he really asked her to play the part of his fiancée tonight? Was he insane?
Maybe she was right. Maybe people wouldn’t believe him and Jane as a couple. They were so different from each other. He saw the big picture not the details. He tended to create a lot of clutter in his quest to achieve his goals. Jane, on the other hand, was practical and no-nonsense. She was incredibly efficient, and always behaved in a prim and proper manner. In her own way, he realized, Jane was no more the marrying kind than he was.
Which, actually, made her perfect for him.
He blew air into his cheeks, then sighed it away. Jane. She wasn’t always prim and proper. In fact, there were aspects of her that were undeniably…sexy. For example, there was the subtle sway of her slender hips as she’d walked away. He hadn’t been able to ignore that. Of course, it had caught his eye because he rarely saw a woman who wasn’t consciously doing it and he knew Jane wasn’t. It was interesting, that was all. It wasn’t really what you would call lust or anything.
He rubbed his eyes and tried to shake the thought out of his head. Jane would be horrified if she had any idea he was thinking this way. She’d probably even quit. He could picture it now, Jane sitting before him, in her high-necked blouse, hands folded in her lap.
I’m sorry, Trey, but I’m unable to work with you under the circumstances. I’m sure you’ll understand why I feel…What would she say? Probably something delicate and old-fashioned. I feel we must part.
He shook his head again. What was he doing, wasting his time thinking about this? He had much more important things to worry about now that the problem of tonight’s dinner was patched up.
He looked at the door to make sure it was closed all the way, then took a key ring out of his pocket and opened the side drawer of his desk. What he needed was right on top. It was a composition notebook he’d picked up at the drug store for a buck. Something about the informality of the book was comforting to him, like its contents weren’t necessarily serious.
He opened to the first page and it hit him full force. The contents were serious all right. It was a list of employees’ names, beginning with those who were most expendable, if such a word could really be used for people. He trailed his finger down the list looking for…For what? For young, single, independently wealthy people whose lives wouldn’t be devastated by the loss of their job? There weren’t any. Most of the names were familiar. Good, reliable, loyal workers who had worked for the company for over ten years. He’d hate to lay any of them off.
After several long minutes, he put the composition book back and took out the spreadsheet his accountant had done. There was a dip in November two years ago, right about the time Trey’s father had voted against bidding on a job for a company he felt was too commercial. He said the company “didn’t nurture the community spirit that Breckenridge Construction had built its good name upon.”
