Plain Jane Marries The Boss. Elizabeth Harbison

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Plain Jane Marries The Boss - Elizabeth  Harbison


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of anticipation warming her cheeks. She dropped her purse on the hall table and shrugged. “I just have to go out with Trey tonight and pose as his fiancée.”

      “You what?”

      “No big deal. All in a day’s work.” She tried to keep a straight face but when she saw her roommate’s astounded expression, she burst into laughter.

      Peatie put a hand on her hip. “Okay, okay, you had me going for a minute. Now what are you really up to?”

      Jane crossed her finger over her chest. “Honest to goodness, that’s what I’m doing. I can’t quite believe it either. But Trey wants his father to believe he’s engaged, and when the woman who was supposed to play the role canceled, he asked me. Me.”

      “You’re serious?”

      Jane nodded. “Unless I’m dreaming.”

      Peatie frowned, obviously still not convinced. “Why does he want his father to think he’s engaged?”

      Jane took her sweater off and hung it on the coat rack. “It’s a long story, but he’s got noble reasons, don’t worry.”

      Peatie shook her foiled head, then gasped. “Oh! He said he wanted you to call him if you got in before five-thirty. You’ve got like a minute.”

      Jane glanced at her watch. It was five twenty-five. “Thanks,” she said, running to the phone in the kitchen. Was he canceling? No, he wouldn’t be sending clothes over if he was. As she rounded the corner, she slipped and her shoe went flying off, but didn’t bother retrieving it as she was already reaching for the phone.

      Peatie followed Jane, holding the shoe out to her. “Lose something, Cinderella?”

      Jane laughed and took the shoe, feeling that the analogy was apt. The phone rang five times, and she was about to hang up when Trey answered.

      “Trey, it’s Jane,” she said in the calmest voice she could manage. “You called?”

      “Did your roommate tell you I was having some clothes sent over?” He sounded distracted.

      Jane sat down and coiled the phone cord around her finger. “Yes, that’s really thoughtful of you, but you didn’t have to bother.” She was sure glad he had, though, because she hadn’t even thought about what to wear.

      “It was no bother, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t think I was being presumptuous.” She could see him setting his pen down and leaning back in his chair in her mind’s eye, almost as if he was sitting right in front of her. “It’s not that I thought you didn’t have clothes already, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t feel like you had to run out and get something new. Knowing you, you wouldn’t tell me so I could cover the expense.”

      He was right. She smiled to herself. “It should be interesting to see what you picked out.”

      His chair squeaked and she knew he was leaning forward again, probably looking at things on his desk and getting ready to hang up the phone. “I picked out a professional shopper. She’s picking the clothes. I just hope I got your size right.” He sounded distracted again, and she wasn’t surprised when he went on to say, “Look, I’m on my way out but I’ll see you in a couple of hours, all right?”

      He’d see her in a couple of hours. It was almost as if they had a date. “See you then,” she said lightly, and hung up the phone.

      “So what did the future Mr. Jane Miller have to say?” Peatie asked.

      Jane turned to her with a smile. “He wanted to make sure I wasn’t offended that he was having clothes sent here.”

      Peatie snorted. “He can offend me any time he wants to send Neiman’s over.” An egg timer dinged in the bathroom. “Time to rinse,” she said, heading down the hall. “But I want details when I get back.”

      Jane was about to go to her room when the doorbell buzzed. She hurried to answer.

      When she opened the door, a petite woman stood before her holding several heavy-looking garment bags. “Jane Miller?”

      “Yes.” Jane stepped back to show the woman in.

      “I’m Ella Bingham,” the woman said, with a warm smile. “Mr. Breckenridge said you’d be expecting me.”

      “Yes.” Jane led her into the living room. “Can I help you carry any of that?”

      “Oh, heavens no, thank you. I’ve spent years doing this sort of thing.” She laid the bags across the back of the sofa and stood back to assess Jane. “Let’s see now.” She walked around her, looking her up and down. “That Mr. Breckenridge has quite a good eye. What do you wear, a twelve?”

      Jane was amazed. “Yes. He told you that?”

      Ella shook her head. “I don’t know a man in the world who’s that good. No, he estimated your height and measurements and he did quite well.” She winked. “He must spend quite a lot of time with you.”

      “He’s my boss.” She wondered why she felt she had to explain.

      Ella nodded discreetly and unzipped the first garment bag with a flair. “Mr. Breckenridge wasn’t sure what sort of fashion you’d prefer, so I brought a selection.” She pulled out a slim red dress with a matching bolero jacket. “He did mention that you remind him of Audrey Hepburn, so I naturally thought of this style.”

      “It’s beautiful,” Jane breathed.

      Peatie entered the room in a thick terrycloth robe, rubbing her wet hair with a towel. “It sure is. Is that what you’re wearing tonight?”

      Jane introduced the women, then said, “I don’t know…” She looked at Ella, trying to savor every delicious moment of this fantasy evening. “Did Trey really say I reminded him of Audrey Hepburn?”

      “He certainly did, and I can see exactly what he meant.” Ella gave a demure smile. “Now run along and give this dress a try.”

      “I don’t know…”

      “Jane, it’s gorgeous,” Peatie said.

      “Yes, it is, but it’s so—so glamorous.”

      Peatie and Ella exchanged glances and Ella said, “I’ll just pop down to the car and get the shoes.” She flashed Peatie another look. “See if you can’t get her into that dress while I’m gone.”

      When she was gone, Peatie turned to Jane and asked, “What’s the matter?”

      “Nothing, it’s just…look at that dress and then look at me.” She splayed her arms. Did she really have to spell this out? “I’m hardly the model type. I’d look silly in something so…alluring.”

      Peatie scoffed and dragged Jane by the arm over to the old, brass hallway mirror. “I hate to break this to you, Janie, but you’re not quite the monster you make yourself out to be.” She wrinkled her nose and studied Jane from her vantage point behind—and about six inches below her. “Actually, I think you’d really be a knockout with a little makeup and hair styling and some different clothes.”

      Jane flashed her a look.

      Peatie laughed. “Look, I’d kill to have your height and your cheekbones.”

      “Come on, I don’t believe that for a minute.”

      “I mean it.” Peatie gestured emphatically. “Look at yourself. You’re Beauty, not the Beast.”

      Jane’s face grew hot as she looked at her reflection. Was Peatie seeing the same thing she was? “All right, I know I’m not a beast but at best I’m just ordinary.” She moved her gaze from Peatie to her own reflection. “Makeup and clothes aren’t going to change me into a beauty.”

      “How do you know?” Peatie asked derisively. “Honestly, I’ll never understand why you always sell yourself so short.”


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