Plain Jane Marries The Boss

“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.”

That had been Trey’s first real clash with his father. Up to that point, they had lived in peaceful estrangement. They were acquaintances, little more. All that changed that November, though. Trey had first tried reasoning with his father, pointing out that the company had to grow in order to justify retaining the existing employees. That had been met with blame for “overspending” by “overemploying.” So Trey had changed his tactic, insisting that limiting the company that way would endanger its very existence.

He believed the word his father had responded with was, “Hogwash.”

Finally Trey had demanded that they go forward with the bid. His father had called an emergency Board meeting and vote. His shares had easily won the vote, as he knew they would.

Trey looked back at the spreadsheet and saw where something similar had happened in February the next year, and May after that. In July his father had finally relented and they’d gotten a semi-large contract for an undeniably commercial health club. The renovation work was up for an award. Trey shook his head. You’d think that would persuade the old man this was the right direction but, no, he was still dragging his feet.

He moved the spreadsheet aside and looked at the company assets and liabilities. He scanned down the numbers to the bottom of the page. The bottom line. When he saw it, he winced. Breckenridge Construction was in trouble. Big trouble.

If Trey didn’t get control of the company in time to take the Davenport job, not only would the people listed in the composition book be without jobs, but most likely Trey, himself, would be too. And Jane. There was no way he could let that happen. He’d do whatever it took to save their jobs for them, and the company for himself.

After all, it was really all he had.

Chapter Two

“This is your chance,” Jane told her reflection in the rearview mirror on the way home. “Tonight you’re going to be his fiancée. It’s up to you to make it real.” She looked at her reflection an extra moment, then turned her eyes back to the road with a laugh. “Right. Not unless I have a fairy godmother that I don’t know about.”

A small, red convertible zipped into the lane in front of Jane, and she had to slam on the brakes of her own sensible American-made compact to avoid a crash. She pulled over to the side of the road and sat, waiting for her pulse to calm down and watching the convertible speed off. All she saw of the driver was long blonde hair flowing in the wind, and a red-nailed hand waving back at Jane.

“Well if that isn’t symbolic, I don’t know what is,” she said to herself and sighed. “I can’t keep up in a red convertible world. Why am I trying?”

There wasn’t even the lightest of winds to answer. Not that she expected one. She already had more answers than she cared to acknowledge.

“You know darn well what you should do,” she said to her reflection again. “You should quit working for Trey and leave. It’s the only way to get him out of your system.” She pressed her lips together and shook her head, now looking inward instead of at the mirror. “But I can’t,” she said softly. “I care too much to leave.”

After a moment of quiet, she put her car into gear and pulled back onto the road.

As soon as she walked in the front door of her apartment ten minutes later, her roommate, Peatie, shouted to her from the bathroom.

“Your boss called.” Peatie’s New York accent was uncharacteristically sing-songy. She walked into the hallway, with huge sections of her bleached-blond hair wrapped in aluminum foil. “Said he wasn’t sure whether you had something you wanted to wear to this fancy schmancy place tonight, so he’s having some things sent over from Neiman-Marcus.” She looked at Jane expectantly. “Neiman-Marcus. So what the heck’s going on?”