See Jane Fall (26 page)

So, Jackson Hole was out of the question for
myriad reasons, but, he wanted—he needed—to remain in Samara’s good
graces too, so he was stringing her along. That felt wrong too, and
it bothered him. And he still hadn’t figured out how to sidestep
tonight or the weekend ahead.

Lars looked up and was surprised to find
Jane walking over to him. She had gotten rid of those baggy,
shapeless jeans today and was wearing a pair of fitted jeans that
actually showed she was a woman with some pretty appealing curves.
She had rounded hips, not just slack skin over bones, and a nice
waist that tapered in. His big, calloused hands had just about
spanned the hot, smooth skin of that waist when he’d held her on
his lap and they twitched, remembering.

She had taken off her sweatshirt from this
morning to reveal a breast-hugging black tank top underneath that
skimmed the top of her jeans, giving a peek at the soft white skin
underneath when she bent or twisted a certain way. Lars had been
watching, as surreptitiously as possible, and every time he got a
slight look, his fingers tingled, recalling the satin warmth of
that skin. She looked simple and chic with black sandals and those
dark red toes that had distracted him so much on Monday night, and
her days in the park were giving her some nice color; even her
brown curls had picked up a little gold from the sun. She wasn’t
wearing her cap anymore, he noticed, enjoying the way her curls
moved with her steps. He couldn’t see her eyes because she was
wearing sunglasses, but her lips were rosy and slick and his body
tensed in response to her as she came closer, needing her, missing
her, excited that she was finally seeking him out.

She sidled up to him, then pivoted, leaning
back against the side of the truck beside him, her elbows resting
like wings along the side with one foot raised, resting against the
rubber of the back tire. She didn’t look at him, just stared
straight ahead, standing beside him.

He readjusted his body just enough that his
arm grazed her elbow, and he felt it in his gut, how much he wanted
her.

“Are we allowed to say hello?” he asked,
referring to the ice pact.

She glanced up at him, putting her
sunglasses on top of her head.

“Hello,” she answered, that low rasp making
his galloping heart beat even a little faster.

“Hello.”

“I have two questions for you,
Professor.”

“Go for it.”

“Are you going to Sara’s place tonight? And
are you going to Jackson Hole this weekend?”

He was distracted by something out of the
corner of his eye, which drew his attention away from Jane. He
barely heard her question, turning his head toward the spitting,
bubbling geyser.
Didn’t anyone notice?
The bubbling and
steam had started.

“Wait! Don’t they realize—?”

He sprinted toward the photographer,
yelling, pointing at Old Faithful. Everyone straightened up, jolted
by his alert and Samara was rushed out from her trailer. Ray
touched up her makeup as Lars helped her take her position in front
of the roar and thunder of the steaming column of water.

He backed up, adrenaline still pumping, eyes
wide as he watched in admiration as they got the shots, impressed
by Samara for making the most of the three or four minutes she had.
Whoever she was in her personal life, she was a professional when
it came to her job. He was fascinated watching her pose, watching
the assistants scurry around with fans and strobes, and the camera
clicked like crazy while the photographer barked instructions
against the fury of water.

He took off his hat and scratched his head,
caught up in the excitement of the moment, leaning against the
guardrail watching. As Old Faithful stilled and sputtered, Jane and
Sebastian accompanied Samara back to her trailer, and that’s when
it occurred to him.

CRAP! Jane.
Wait. What was her
question?
Oh, no.
She thought he was hooking up with Samara
tonight and headed to Jackson Hole this weekend.
Shoot.
He
knew it had probably taken a lot of courage to ask him those
questions, and he had basically run away from her the moment the
words were out of her mouth. He needed to fix this.

Now wasn’t a good time. She would need to
help Samara get undressed, and looking around, he realized that
everyone was packing up to go back to Gardiner. He’d have to wait
until tonight…first chance he got, he’d head over to the Best
Western and lay it out for her, talk to her about staying for the
weekend and try to get her back.

***

Margot placed the clothes back on hangers and
hung them on the bar at the back of Samara’s trailer as Shanelle
brushed her hair out. Jane busied herself straightening up the
trailer, finding Sara a pair of jeans and a t-shirt to change into
now that the shoot was finished for the day. She felt awkward about
how the conversation had ended so abruptly with Lars, and she still
didn’t have her answers.

“Um, Jane?” Jane turned to Sara, who was
shrugging into her t-shirt. “You’re pretty unhinged lately and I
was thinking you could use a couple days off to get your head
straight. So, I won’t be needing you this weekend. Anyway, I’ve
arranged my own…um,
delicious
company for Jackson Hole.
You’d just be in the way.”

Jane’s first reaction was to roll her eyes;
Sara was purposely making this announcement in front of Margot and
Shanelle to assert her control over Jane.
Whatever.
Sara
didn’t know the crew had heard it from her first on Tuesday night.
Day late and a dollar short, Sara.

Wait. Delicious company.
Was she
talking about Lars? Jane looked down, absently stroking the soft
kid of the gloves she was holding. Sure, she’d overheard them this
morning, but Lars hadn’t confirmed joining Sara for the
weekend.

“Fine,” she murmured, a sick, unsure feeling
growing in her stomach.

Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask!

“Who’s, um, joining you?”

Sara turned to Jane and smiled her prettiest
smile, managing to look innocent and surprised at one before
chuckling lightly. “Well, Lars, of course.”

Jane furrowed her brows in confusion as her
face fell.
How? When?
Had Sara cornered him and somehow
managed to get a yes out of him?
No! It can’t be—

“Really? I thought—”

“You thought what, Jane?” Sara stood up in
front of Jane with her hands on her hips and turned to Margot.
“Margot. Tell her what you walked in on yesterday. Go on. Tell
her.”

Margot had her back to them, arranging a
blouse on a hanger, but she turned to face her boss, letting it
fall to her side. Her brows furrowed and she swallowed as she
looked at Jane, who read her fleshy, baleful face like a book. She
didn’t want to tell Jane, but whatever Sara was alluding to was
true. It also meant that Ray had shared with the crew that Jane had
feelings for Lars, because Margot looked incredibly sorry to have
to tell her whatever Sara was forcing out of her.

“Tell. Her. Margot.” Sara’s voice was firm
and insistent. “Just tell her.”

“I-I don’t know if I really saw
anything…”

“Yes, you do, you fat piece of—” Sara took a
deep breath. “Just tell her, dear. Exactly what you saw.”

Margot tilted her head to the side,
grimacing at Jane.

“It’s okay, Margot,” Jane whispered, eyes
trained on the chubby woman’s face.

“I walked in on them making out…um,
kissing.”

“And what was I wearing Margot?”

“Bra and panties.”

“Uh-huh. ’Cause the rest of my clothes had
already been torn off my body. And if the hippo here hadn’t
interrupted us…well, Janie, use your imagination. I’m sure you know
what would’ve happened next.”

Jane’s heart was beating so fast, her chest
hurt. Her eyes glistened with tears, but she wouldn’t allow them to
fall. Breathing was another story. Had Sara given Jane a roundhouse
kick to the gut, the wind wouldn’t have been as effectively knocked
out of her.

Lars had hooked up with Sara. Kissed her
polluted, treacherous lips. Touched her with his gentle, calloused
hands. It was so heartbreaking and so humiliating, she didn’t know
which emotion to latch onto first.

“Oh,” Sara cooed, reaching out a hand and
taking one of Jane’s, “look at you, so sad. But, you’ll get it
over. You always do.
So strong
.”

She squeezed Jane’s hand then dropped it,
and it fell limply at Jane’s side. And just like that, the fourth
of those tiny threads deep inside of Jane snapped with an almost
audible
twaaaang
sound and she knew that she was nearly
untethered. Almost free of this viper, this cancer, this life.

“Yes,” she whispered, sorrow making her
voice raspier than usual. “I
am
strong.”

Shanelle put her hand on Jane’s shoulder but
Jane shrugged it away, her eyes burning. She leaned down until her
face shared the mirror with Sara’s, and she gazed into her cousin’s
eyes, her beautiful lavender eyes that were so rare, so stunning,
until Sara looked away.

“I’m leaving.”

“N-not for good!” Sara exclaimed, jerking
her eyes, wide and worried, back to Jane’s.

Jane tilted her head to the side, regarding
her cousin with tired, glazed eyes, unable to form the words to
answer her.
Something is not better than nothing when the
something is hateful, horrible you.
She backed up without a
word and walked out of the trailer door, slamming it behind
her.

She beelined to the
Trend
van that
was about to pull out of the parking area to take the magazine crew
back to Gardiner. She tapped on the door, and Amy slid it open.

“Room for one more?” Jane asked,
blinking.

“Um, sure.” Amy nodded, raising an eyebrow
as she probably made the connection that Jane wouldn’t be riding
back with Sara or the rest of her team.

Jane climbed in, taking the empty row in the
back for herself, and the van started back for Gardiner.

Once she was settled in the back seat,
scrunched down, head turned to look out the window, only then did
her heart drop completely as the first tears fell. She winced, and
her bottom lip trembled, so she covered her mouth with her hand and
let the silent tears fall at will. The
Trend
folks either
noticed and left her alone, or simply didn’t care. Either way, no
one bothered her.

He had caved. He had caved, after all. Turns
out you
are
that guy, Lars. Just like all the rest of them.
You
are
that guy.

Thank God you didn’t sleep with him
,
she thought, trying to look on the bright side.

Shut up, Jane. The man of your dreams is
sleeping with your cousin tonight…is spending the weekend with your
cousin. His beautiful lips kissed hers. His hands were on her body.
There is no bright side. There. Is. No. Bright. Side.

She must have looked like an idiot asking
him whether or not he was going to Sara’s cottage or Jackson Hole.
No wonder he had run away from her at the speed of light. After
last night, his kindness to her as he dropped her off, she’d
allowed herself to hope. What an idiot she must have looked like
today. She didn’t know what was worse: the humiliation of finally
letting down her guard a little only to be blown off, or the
reality that he was finally lost to her.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Totally unhinged. Do I have to pack myself
for JH? -S

Jane stared at the text, considered telling
Sara to go fuck herself, then wrote back a quick message so that
Sara wouldn’t bother her again tonight.

I’ll do it in the morning. -J

When the van pulled up in front of the Best
Western, Jane hurried to her room, texting Maggie that she didn’t
need a ride since she wasn’t out at the cottage anymore. She would
shower and change, and head over the Prairie Dawn after she’d had a
long, well-deserved cry in the shower.

Her heart was in pieces.

He was lost to her.

***

Lars was anxious to get to the Best Western
and find Jane. He’d seen her leave Samara’s trailer and run over to
the
Trend
van for a ride home, and while he’d been initially
concerned as he watched her, he remembered that the cousins weren’t
getting along. She was probably just avoiding Samara. Still, a
feeling of unease fell over him; he didn’t want any more
misunderstandings between them, and by not answering her questions,
it was possible she’d think the worst.

Samara, however, had other plans, which were
thwarting Lars’s intention to get to Jane. On the ride back to
Gardiner, she kept talking about champagne and takeout (Where she
thought they were going to order takeout in Gardiner was a mystery
to him. She lived in La-La Land.) and shared how much she was
looking forward to getting to know him better
tonight. He
had no idea how he was going to get out of it; he had to think of
something and was starting to feel desperate. He wasn’t staying at
Samara’s for any shenanigans tonight. He was driving her home and
then heading to Jane right away.

Samara spent the first five minutes of the
ride back to her place on her phone, texting. Finally she turned to
him.

“How about some music?” she asked. “Get us
in the mood?”

“Sure,” he replied, groaning inwardly. “CDs
are in the glove—”

“No more of that old stuff. Let’s see what’s
on the radio!” She rolled the dial until she found a very loud,
very angry song, and turned it up.

“You like Pink?” she asked, putting her
wrists together in front of her, and moving her body to the rhythm
of the music.

Did he like the song? No. It wasn’t his
style.

Did her body look awesome moving to it?
Absolutely. But, it didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t
interested anymore.

“Do you
love
this song? Oh my God,
she’s so strong! I met her at a club last month and she is
awesome!
I work out to this.”