The Boss and the Plain Jayne Bride

Resting her forehead against the dry erase board prior to cleaning it, Jayne didn’t realize at first that she had company.

“Are you all right?” asked a deep male voice behind her.

She whirled around, then jammed the heel of her hand against her head as the pain speared through it. “Uh, I’ve got a headache,” she managed to say even though voices in her poor abused head were shouting at her to say something witty.

His brow furrowed in attractive wrinkles. Attractive wrinkles for Pete’s sake. “I’m sorry.” He sounded as though he meant it. Good trick. “I noticed that you seemed distracted this evening,” he began diplomatically, “and I hope it wasn’t because you felt awkward about bumping me with the cart.”

Bumping. How kind he was. “I am so sorry about that. How’s your leg? It’s bruised, isn’t it?” she asked, when he hesitated.

“Don’t worry about it.” A corner of his mouth tilted upward, deepening a dimple. “Accidents happen.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

“Why? You’re telling me it wasn’t an accident?”

Jayne’s eyes widened. “Of course it was!” she spluttered, horrified.

Garrett laughed lightly and touched her briefly on the shoulder. “Relax. I’m kidding. I only wanted you to know that I’m not the kind of person who’ll have his lawyer camping on your doorstep within twentyfour hours, in case you were worried.”

Jayne’s mouth opened. She’d never even considered that he might sue. Her financial life flashed before her.

He raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

Jayne shut her mouth and, having lost the power of speech, nodded.

“See you on Thursday, then.” He turned and walked out of the conference room, footsteps muffled by the industrial carpeting.

Jayne stared after him. He was coming back! She was going to get a second chance!

So what was she going to do with it?

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.”