Jane and Austen (16 page)

He laughed. “Are you through with accusing me of everything under the sun?”

The offense I felt on my friend’s behalf made me all prickly, and I couldn’t even meet his gaze because I was so confused. I shifted away from him. “Then why?”

“Because I’m a jerk. Hey, I’m sorry.” He reached out and rubbed my back and I felt the prickles start to recede under his warm touch. Half of me wanted to pull away, but his eyes were beseeching on mine. “I shouldn’t have said that. I haven’t been the easiest person to get along with lately. I don’t even know what my problem is. Do you forgive me, Jane?”

“I . . .” There was nothing to be angry about really—it’s just that I wanted
moments
that added up to something. And if things like marriage and commitment really meant nothing to Dancey, then I didn’t want to get involved, because our love was doomed before it started. I had thought that I could relax and just have fun, but now I realized that I didn’t want another Austen.

Faint music from Pemburkley Hall reached us from inside. The uncomfortable toasts were over, and the dancing had begun. “Jane?” Dancey tipped my chin up so he could look into my eyes. “I promise not to talk like that anymore. I
like
being around you. You’re different. You make me happy.”

His charm was really hard to fight against. My doubts wrestled with my natural instinct to enjoy being with him. My smile won out. “You make me happy, too,” I said.

Dancey looked relieved. “Do you forgive me?”

I nodded.

“Then dance with me?”

I studied his hand—the fingers were long and tapered, perfect for handling a guitar, perfect for holding hands. I accepted it and wasn’t sorry when his fingers wrapped around mine in his strangely comforting touch.

The faint beat of the music followed his movements. It mixed with the sounds of the waves pushing up against the beach. He led me over the balcony, the music guiding me into his arms. The flickering tiki torches fought the dark enough for me to study his eyes that drank me in. It was like Dancey couldn’t get enough of me, treasured me as much as I felt any hero should.

It wasn’t long before Dancey went after his kiss again. His fingers strayed through my hair and trailed over my ears to my jaw, and there he held me captive with nothing but the force of his light touch. He didn’t ask, but I didn’t pull away this time, and he took it as permission.

His lips met mine, tentatively at first as if afraid I’d push him away. I wasn’t sure of his intentions, but I remembered Austen’s words—showing affection didn’t mean commitment. It meant something else, an expressed interest—and I was interested.

Dancey’s lips slanted over mine, and he deepened his kiss. My arms wrapped convulsively around him. I was afraid I’d fall if I didn’t hold on. He became more confident, trailing kisses over my cheeks and neck. Then Dancey’s kiss turned desperate somehow—almost like it was mirroring the kiss that Taylor had given Bigley at the wedding rehearsal.

I told my brain to shut off and enjoy the moment, but as soon as Dancey’s grip tightened on me, I wasn’t sure if he knew that he held me anymore. A girl maybe, but not me. It didn’t make sense. Maybe I was imagining it.

And then I wasn’t.

I pushed my hand against his chest. He gave me a curious look when I stepped back. I took a deep breath, not sure what to say. His fingers stroked my arm. His other hand was tangled through my hair. I knew that he wanted nothing more than to go back to kissing me again.

“Jane!”

I turned. Captain Redd stood by the kitchen door. I could only see his silhouette from the light of the kitchen, but his broad, unyielding shoulders told me his identity. “Are you out here?”

Dancey squeezed my arm and gave me a reassuring smile before pecking me lightly on the lips and stepping away.

“Oh, there you are, Dancey. Junie said you might be out here, too.” Redd stepped further into the darkness. “Jane,” his voice dripped with disapproval when he found me. I felt his condemnation pierce through my bones. Everything the captain thought about me had just been validated. Here I was lurking in the darkness with a guest when I was supposed to be running the show.

“Redd,” I forced my voice to be light, but it was husky and it gave me away. I cleared my throat. “Did Taylor need me?”

“Yes. Right away.” Redd ducked back into the kitchen, his shoulders stiff.

Dancey laughed beside me. “What’s his problem?”

“I’m supposed to be inside.” To my horror, I heard the stress come out in my voice.

He changed his tone. “I’m sorry. This is my fault.” He started helping me with my hair—it was all over the place. “You should’ve left it down,” he said. “It would’ve been less obvious.”

“I didn’t know that I was going to—”

“No, of course not. I didn’t plan for it either, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He laughed and managed to get some of my hair back up before bumping noses with me.

That got me to laughing too. “Dancey, you’re a fast mover,” I accused. “I shouldn’t have come out here with you. You are too charming and I’m . . . well, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” he asked me. “This?” He kissed me again, but this time his eyes were on mine, and I saw the tenderness behind his gaze. I must’ve been wrong about him before. I was letting my romantic ideals ruin a good thing.

“Yes, this,” I said. And since the joke was too good to resist, I playfully pecked his lips with my own in a light kiss. He lifted me off my feet, stealing my breath away. Before setting me back down, he caught my ear with another kiss. The sound of it echoed through my hearing. My hair fell down around us. His hands had shredded through my carefully arranged hairdo again.

“It’s hopeless,” he whispered into my ear. “We’ll leave it down for now.”

“I can’t.”

Or all bets with Austen were off.

They might already be. For once, I didn’t have to fantasize about love from a book because it was much more fascinating in real life. Not attempting to fix my hair again, Dancey took my hand possessively and led me into the party inside.

Chapter 13

“It is the greatest absurdity . . . . The folly of not allowing people to be comfortable at home—and the folly of people’s not staying comfortably at home when they can!”

—Jane Austen,
Emma

Carrying my high heels
on the tips of my fingers, I stole through the hall that was outside the lobby, feeling the soft grey rug beneath my toes. Freddy headed the opposite direction from the lobby, looking tired. His dark hair was its usual messy perfection.

“Where’s Austen?” I asked him as we passed.

Freddy gave me a long stare before answering. “Gone to bed . . . like any sane person.”

That meant that I could sneak through the lobby to my bedroom unseen. Austen hadn’t been at the party when I’d returned with Dancey. It was a good thing, because Austen was way too observant, and I didn’t feel like fighting with him about Dancey right now. I was in the middle of my own argument with myself.

I tiptoed through the hall and pushed the door open, only to meet Austen’s eyes at the checkout counter. He took one look at my hair toppling freely over my shoulders and turned to the girl sitting at the counter with him. “Hey, Junie Be Fair, look who the party spat out?”

Junie skewered me with a disgusted glance before ducking behind Austen’s laptop again. She patted his arm, whispering something that I couldn’t hear, and then before I could use the distraction to move through the room unnoticed, she left without saying a word to me. Junie was so full of secrets and drama.
I had mystery too.
I just didn’t let everybody know it.

I gave Austen a tight smile and tried to slip past. His voice stopped me. “What did you do to Junie? I think she hates you.”

“I think I breathe too much,” I said. “It’s highly offensive.” I placed my hand on the doorknob rather than explain that Junie saw me as competition and it was all Austen’s fault. The phone at the checkout counter rang.

“Wait.” Austen pushed a button on the phone to silence it. “How did everything go tonight?”

I hunched guiltily. My emotions were so jumbled. “You didn’t stick around at the party?” I asked.

“I lost interest after Dancey declared how much he wanted Taylor to be happy.”

I gulped, trying to figure out a way to defend Dancey
and
myself for finding him so interesting. “Maybe Dancey just doesn’t have a way with words.”

“Yeah, because he doesn’t make a living out of them,” Austen said. “He can’t even make it to his best friend’s rehearsal dinner on time. Is he going to dump the whole bachelor party on me? I’ve got a deadline here. I’ve already wasted too much time plumping up Taylor for the sacrificial altar to the wedding gods.”

I dropped my hand from the doorknob and returned to Austen, stealing the seat Junie had just vacated. “So you gave me the water for Taylor and then left, huh?” It was my way of fishing to see if he had seen me with Dancey—I didn’t want him to think I was an idiot for ignoring his warning.

Judging by Austen’s expression, he had no idea what had happened. Either that or he was giving me his best poker face. He shrugged. The phone rang again, and he stared down at it, looking annoyed.

“You going to get that?” I asked.

“No. It’s after midnight.” He hung the phone up again, his eyes going back to me. “At least Taylor’s getting out of here while the getting’s good.”

Was he dissing my job again? “Why’s that?”

“It’s . . . well.” He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. I wanted to reach out and fix it, but forced myself to stay put. “How do you like your job?” he asked. “Have you ever thought of going somewhere else after Taylor leaves?”

My stomach sank. The night was going from confusing to worse. Had Austen’s parents sent my former crush back to sack me? “Austen.” I planted my hands against the counter. “You had better spit out what you want to say right now!”

“I just . . .” He stared at my hands. “I can get you references. You can go anywhere you want.”

I couldn’t believe it. Had he seen me with Dancey? Sure, it was unprofessional, but I could’ve at least gotten a warning first. I felt lightheaded. “You’re firing me?”

“What?” He looked startled. “No! It’s . . . this is all confidential. I can’t say anything, but there will be changes at North Abbey, and I just want to make sure that you know you have options. That’s all. You’re talented. You could get anything you go after.”

“I have ways of finding out what you’re talking about, Austen.”

He looked uncomfortable. “Probably not.”

“Wait,” I said as a sick feeling permeated me. “Junie knows what’s going on, doesn’t she?” I was almost sure of it. All the secret looks. The image of Austen sidled up next to Junie in the lobby, all cozy with my archrival, came back to haunt me. He had no intention of telling me the big life-changing news, but Junie knew everything.

Austen’s brow rose in confusion. “Yeah, Junie knows. What’s the big deal?”

Because he had confided in her instead of me, that was why. The two clearly had something going on.
And I had something going on with Dancey.
I took a deep breath, trying to be fair about this. “Okay Austen, that’s fine. Just tell me what’s happening.”

Austen looked like he’d rather swallow poison. The phone rang again. He tried to hang it up again, but I pushed his hand away. I realized that whoever was on the other side of that phone had instigated this whole conversation in the first place. The caller ID flashed across the screen. Colin Minster.

Why was Austen’s cousin calling? He was a condescending, disgusting, rude . . .

I stood up, my hand hovering over the ringing phone. Austen’s chin rose so that he met my eyes in a challenge. “Go ahead,” he said. “Colin’s been dying to talk to you. You want your next meet-cute, well, here’s your chance. The phone’s ringing. Answer it.” When I didn’t, his lips turned up. “C’mon, Jane. You’ve waited by the phone your whole life for a call like this. It’s your big moment.”

Normally the threat would be enough to make me scream and run away like a little girl, but Austen didn’t want me to talk to his cousin. I picked up the phone.

“Finally!” Colin shouted out on the other side.

I winced. “This is Jane. How may I help you?”

“Jane.” His irritated voice turned pleasant. “It’s you! How is your stomach?”

His memory was impeccable. I always developed some sort of illness when he asked me out on a date. “I’m holding on,” I said.

“I’m glad to hear it, since we will be seeing more of each other. Austen told you the good news, I’m sure?”

I glanced over at Austen, who looked anything but pleased. “He did,” I lied. “What are your thoughts on it?”

“Naturally, I’m very conscious of what is expected of me—unlike others. As an investor in North Abbey, I feel it my duty to promote the establishment and its related businesses within the reach of my influence. In fact, Jane, I flatter myself that you will not object to my extended presence there.”

“Colin.” I was more confused than ever. “Are you staying here?” I winced at the horror that came out in my voice and tried to amend it. “We’re happy to have you, of course.”

“Is that a confession?” He sniggered then coughed. “I
was
hoping you’d put me in your confidence, Jane. You aren’t dating someone new, I assume?”

“Not . . . officially,” I stuttered. “But actually, yes, I think we’re good enough friends for me to admit that—yes, I’m seeing someone.”

He went quiet on the other line before muttering, “We’ll see about that.”

I glanced over at Austen. He was laughing silently. This was going nowhere. I was still in the dark, and if I wasn’t careful, I was going to sign all my spare time away. “Colin, when exactly will you be coming to North Abbey?”

He sighed self-importantly. “I must trespass on your hospitality as early as tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, no, no, no.” I waved my hand even though he couldn’t see it. “We’re in the middle of a wedding, Colin. Every room is taken. The bungalows too.”

He took a deep breath. “How is that possible?”

Trust Colin to be offended that we didn’t keep a room vacant for him at all times. “What can I say?” I asked. “Business is going great.”

“Really? I didn’t have that impression. Austen seemed so willing to sell his half of the business.”

“Sell?” I sank down on my seat, not sure if I heard correctly. “North Abbey?” I asked. Austen leaned heavily against the counter, watching me.

“I hope that my being your new boss won’t change our relationship, Jane.”

My hand tightened on the phone.

“In fact, my mind is made up,” Colin said. “I intend to extend the olive branch to all the workers at North Abbey. You will be the go-between for myself and the workers there. I confess the allure of working with one of the greatest event coordinators in San Diego was one of the main attractions that enticed me to accept Austen’s offer, since the place
is
quite a dive. But we’ll make a lot of changes there . . . together.” He smacked his lips. “Until tomorrow, Jane.”

He hung up without letting me get another word in. I stared at Austen in horror. He was in the middle of holding up his hands like I would rip into him, but I felt limp with the horror of it all. “Austen, the business was supposed to go to you.”

“We’re changing management. Colin is soon to be the proud owner of North Abbey.”

“And that’s what you’re doing here? You’re making sure the transaction runs smoothly.”

“Jane.” He lifted his shoulders helplessly. “North Abbey is a money pit. Have you looked at the place? We’re all appearances and gold paint . . . and even that is fading.”

“But? But?” I stuttered as I stared around me at the Victorian rococo and carved cupids that made up the ceiling paneling. Sure, the place was old, but it was gorgeous like a priceless painting in a museum.

Austen abruptly cut into my thoughts, “After all the repairs we’ve had to do, we’re making next to nothing in profits here.”

He didn’t believe in us. He was selling us out to Colin. Didn’t Austen care about how darling this place was? We had met here—
okay, forget that. He didn’t care.
But Austen had grown up here. Wasn’t he sentimental in the least? My hand went to my forehead. Austen’s practical approach was ruining my life.

“What will this mean for us?” I asked.

Austen avoided my eyes, packing up his laptop. “I’m sure everything will be the same.”

As a rule, I didn’t like change, but Colin would come and drive us all out . . .
and I would never see Austen again.

“Well, great.” I clapped my hands once, laying the sarcasm on thick. “What life would be complete without a Mr. Collins? At least I have my Mr. Darcy—there’s nothing like a fiend to hurry me into his arms.”

Austen stopped packing his laptop. “What?”

With a start, I realized I spoke the truth. “Hey!” I gave a hysterical laugh when I realized another correlation that my life had to my beloved books. “No way. We even have a Bingley here. Dancey’s best friend. Our own Mr. Bigley. I’m all set for my happy ending!”

Austen was silent a moment. He knew the movie
Pride and Prejudice
. His ex had made him watch it. Even he had to see what an odd coincidence this was. “And I suppose you’re the heroine?” he asked.

“Of course I am. I’m Jane!”

He wrapped his cord around his laptop in tight jerks. “Have you found out what inspires all those love songs Dancey writes, then?”

“What a good idea.” I snapped my fingers like Austen had inspired me. “I’ll ask Dancey about that the next time we meet. We were too busy dancing under the stars tonight for small talk. Hey, weren’t you the one who said that I would never enjoy a Jane Austen romance? You were wrong. I do. You know what’s even weirder, Austen?
You were wrong.
That’s right—wrong.
I think that’s a sign, don’t you?”

“Just like it’s a sign that your name is Jane and my name is Austen.” There was an edge to his voice. “By the way, it’s not.”

“You want to hear another sign?” I asked as if he hadn’t spoken. “Dancey said that wearing white made me stand out from all the other girls in red and he
likes
my hair up. It didn’t stop him from doing this to it though.” I slid my hand through my messy hair. “I guess our deal is off, Austen. No need to help me out with the wedding anymore. I can handle it all on my own. Looks like you’re getting out of this place just in time. We’ll be sad to see you go.”

I picked up my high heels from off the counter and marched out of the lobby, my bare feet slapping across the tiles.