Plain Jane Marries The Boss. Elizabeth Harbison
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but didn’t add anything to it.
Jane thought she’d never seen him so nervous. “You know how your son is, always burning the midnight oil to get things done. We’ve spent a lot of time working together in close quarters.” She drew a tremulous breath. “I guess it was just inevitable that this would happen.”
“Bah!” Terrence picked up a roll and slathered it with butter. “You could work together for years and never feel a spark, no matter how close the quarters. It’s only inevitable when it’s right. And I can tell just from looking at the two of you that it’s right.”
Jane smiled, uncomfortably aware of Trey next to her. “It seems to be,” she hedged. You could work together for years and never feel a spark. His words stung with the truth.
The wine steward appeared and showed the bottle to Terrence for his approval. He gave a quick nod, then took the bottle from the waiter without bothering to take the customary sip of approval. “We need to drink a toast,” he said, cavalierly sloshing the wine into everyone’s glasses. “This is a sturdy little red wine from my new hometown, which I hope to introduce you both to very soon.” He handed the glasses to Trey and Jane. “Salut.”
They all drank.
“So,” Terrence said, setting his glass down. “No sense in beating around the bush. You two are thinking of getting married, eh?”
“Definitely,” Trey said, too loudly, too quickly. He slipped his arm around Jane’s shoulders and gave a squeeze. “I’m not letting this one get away.”
Inhaling the clean scent of his aftershave, she nearly closed her eyes in ecstasy. Then she allowed herself the momentary luxury of sinking against him. With her arm pressed against his rib cage, she could feel the steady beat of Trey’s heart. His body heat against her skin made her shiver with pleasure.
“I hope the lady agrees,” Terrence said, with a questioning lift of his brow.
“Yes.” With some effort, she straightened and took a bracing sip of the wine. “Ever since I met Trey, I’ve had the feeling he was the one,” she said, more honestly than Trey would ever know.
The older man beamed delightedly. “So when’s the date?”
There was a brief, awkward silence, then Jane said the only thing that came to mind. “February fourteenth. Valentine’s Day,” she added unnecessarily.
“Of next year,” Trey put in quickly. Then, with a shrug to his father, added, “Jane prefers a long engagement.”
Terrence looked at her. “Really, why is that?”
She felt the heat creep into her cheeks. “Why?” Her mind raced frantically. “Because…” She looked at Trey, whose face was curiously blank. “Because statistics show that people who are engaged a year or more typically have more successful marriages.” She thought she had read that, or something like that, somewhere. Sometime.
Beside her, Trey added an enthusiastic, “Yes.”
Terrence scratched his chin. “I didn’t know that.”
“Oh yes.” Trey picked up the reins. “Lots of studies have been done on the subject. The longer the engagement, the better the marriage.”
The waiter appeared then to take their orders, and Jane took the opportunity to breathe and collect herself. She wasn’t feeling as shy as she normally did in social situations. That was good. But she didn’t feel certain about her acting skills. That was bad.
When it was Trey’s turn, he hesitated over whether to get the chicken or the filet and Jane leaned in to whisper to him that the chicken dish was heavy on an herb he didn’t like. “Remember? At Chez Guis-line you said the tarragon tasted like soap leaves to you.”
After a long, questioning moment of looking at her, he ordered the beef.
“That’s what I like to see,” Terrence said, apparently oblivious to Trey’s silent query. “A woman looking out for her man. Call me old-fashioned, but it does my heart good.”
“Jane is old-fashioned too,” Trey interjected. “I just knew you two would hit it off.”
They both looked at him.
“In what ways am I old-fashioned?” she asked.
“Loyalty,” Trey said, letting his gaze linger on her for an extra moment.
“That’s an important quality in a wife,” Terrence agreed.
“That’s an important quality in anyone,” Jane said, just as Trey began to say the same thing. They exchanged glances.
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” he said, eyeing her steadily.
Suddenly there was an exclamation of surprise and Jane, who was lifting her water glass to her lips, was knocked soundly by an older woman passing by. The water spilled across her lap and onto the floor.
“Oh! I’m so terribly sorry!” the woman exclaimed.
Jane took her napkin and started blotting the water up. “It’s okay. It’s just water.”
“I just feel terrible,” the woman said, reaching down with a handkerchief she had taken from her purse and blotting at Jane’s skirt. “Just terrible.” She bumped her hand soundly against Jane’s, and the heavy diamond cut into her skin.
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