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She Did a Bad, Bad Thing
She Did a Bad, Bad Thing
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She Did a Bad, Bad Thing

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“That’s the cable TV station, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“What do you do for them?”

Jane squirmed, reluctant to give the man any more ammunition to use against her.

“I work on a local talk show.”

“What’s the name of the show?”

“Just Between Us.”

“Hey, that’s the show with the looker host, right?”

“Eve Best…yes, she’s beautiful.” Jane looked out the window, with the words that he’d said about her own appearance looping in her head. Homely little geek…homely little geek…homely little geek. She inched closer to the door.

“Sounds like an exciting job,” he said, but she didn’t offer any commentary. The silence stretched awkwardly, and she willed the morning traffic to move faster.

His cell phone rang and he said, “Excuse me,” then hit a hands-free speaker button on his visor. “Perry Brewer.”

“You’re late,” a woman’s voice accused.

“Good morning to you, too, Theresa. I’m on my way.”

“You’re due in court in thirty minutes, cowboy. Are you going to make it?”

“I’ll be there,” he said smoothly. “And I have the files I need.”

“I don’t have to tell you what’s riding on this hearing, Perry.”

“No, Theresa, you don’t,” he said, his voice more solemn.

“Good luck. Call me when it’s over.”

“Will do.” He disconnected the call, then glanced over at Jane. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” she said. “But it sounds as if I’m making you late. You can let me out here and I’ll get a taxi.”

“No need,” he said easily. “We’re almost there, and I’ll be going against traffic when I leave your office.”

Silence fell between them again, and Jane started to feel rude for not reciprocating his small talk. “So you’re an attorney?”

He cracked a little smile. “That’s what my business card says.”

“And you have a big case today?”

“Bigger than most.”

She pictured him in front of a courtroom and realized that the man was probably good at what he did—he was, after all, charming, convincing…two-faced.

With the requisite small talk out of the way, she concentrated on the bumper of the car in front of them, checked the strap on her shoulder bag and generally fidgeted. The man made her nervous and hyperaware of her appearance. Next to his ultra-feminine girlfriend, she felt like a boy.

And she didn’t like it.

PERRY WATCHED the slender woman next to him out of the corner of his eye, squirming, positioning herself as far away from him as possible. He felt like a jerk. Seeing those puffy eyes of hers this morning was like a punch to his gut—it didn’t take a genius to figure out that his callous words of the night before had upset her…had made her cry all night from the looks of it.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, remorse coursing through him. Words of apology watered in his mouth, but he had a feeling that he’d only make things worse if he brought it up. Still, he had to own up to his bad behavior.

“Listen…Jane,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I have a big mouth and I have a feeling that you overheard something I said last night that…was unkind.”

She didn’t say anything, but he could tell by the way she stiffened that he was right—she had over-heard him…and her red-rimmed eyes had nothing to do with allergies.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“No need to apologize,” she said quickly, tugging on the strap of her bag. “You have a right to your opinion.”

“But I didn’t mean it. I was in a bad mood and I’d had too much to drink.”

She gave him a little half smile. “It’s okay, Mr. Brewer—I have a mirror. I know that I’m not…exciting.”

The resignation in her voice tugged at his heart. “Jane—”

“That’s my building on the corner. I’ll get out here.”

“I’ll drive you to the front—”

But she was already out of the vehicle, swinging down to the curb.

“Do you need a ride home?” he shouted, strangely eager to do something else for her.

“No, thanks. Good luck on your case.” Then she slammed the door and took off jogging toward the entrance of her building.

He watched her moving away from him, juggling her oversized shoulder bag, her ponytail bouncing like a teenager’s. Dressed like a coed, she looked young…and alone. And she had wished him luck on his case…even after what he’d said about her, she had tried to be nice.

Were there really people like that left in the world?

A horn sounded behind him, jarring him out of his reverie. He hit the gas pedal and told himself to focus—he was facing the biggest case of his career this morning.

Yet all he could think about on the way to the courthouse was the young woman he had wounded with his careless words. And he realized with a start that he’d like to get to know Jane Kurtz better…if only he could convince her to let him.

4

JANE’S SKIN TINGLED with humiliation as she hurried to her office. She wasn’t sure what was worse—knowing what Perry had said about her, or him knowing that she knew.

And him knowing that his words had affected her.

One thing was certain, she realized when she removed her sunglasses in the makeup room and got a good look at her red, swollen eyes—she was going to have to call upon some major concealer today, or she would spend the day fending off questions from her coworkers.

So she sat down in front of a brightly lit mirror and for the first time in a long time, began to apply some of her expertise to her own face. With a practiced eye, she dipped a sponge into a pot of foundation that was a shade lighter than her skin tone, and proceeded to erase the damage of the night’s tears…if only it were so easy to erase the damage of his words cutting into her soul. His apology had only driven the knife deeper.

Worse, she couldn’t figure out why she had let his words get to her. Because they had so directly fed into her own restlessness of late? Because she was worried that she was doomed to be ignored by everyone around her? To be alone indefinitely.

The appearance of her friend Eve Best for her daily makeup application ended Jane’s musings. “Good morning!”

Eve was the most upbeat person Jane knew—just being around her made Jane feel better. “Good morning.”

“Ready for me?”

“Sure.” Jane stood and gestured toward the chair she’d vacated.

“How was your evening with your remote control?” Eve teased as she sat down.

“Interrupted,” Jane said, shaking out a paper cape to tuck around the collar of Eve’s blouse. “My new neighbor is so loud, he disturbed my entire evening.”

“He?” Eve asked with a smile. “Have you met him?”

“Yes. Once to tell him that his girlfriend was parked in my parking place, and once to tell him to keep the noise down. And…I had a flat tire this morning, so he dropped me off here.”

Eve’s eyebrows rose. “Is he cute?”

Jane shrugged. “I guess so. But he’s also a jerk.”

“Gee, he can’t be too much of a jerk if he offered you a ride to work.”

Jane avoided Eve’s perceptive gaze and instead handed her a headband to secure her hair away from her face. “How were ratings yesterday?” she asked, to change the subject.

Eve studied her with a little frown, then said, “The best ever. I need for today’s show to be strong, too, to keep the viewers we captured yesterday.”

“You’ll pull it off,” Jane said, hoping to soothe the concern she heard in her friend’s voice.

Eve smiled at her in the mirror. “Thanks. But lately I’ve been asking myself why I’m doing this.” She gave a little laugh. “My life would be so much easier if I could just win the lottery.”

Jane laughed. “Mine, too.” She checked the date on her watch. “Hey, maybe we’ll get lucky today.” She proceeded to airbrush a layer of foundation on Eve’s lovely face, but this morning Jane’s focus was compromised as she continually blinked her scratchy, sleep-deprived eyes. More than once she had to switch off the machine and correct mistakes manually.

“You okay?” Eve asked suspiciously. “You look tired.”

“I…didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Your neighbor again?”

Jane simply nodded, but spared her friend the gory details.

“Sounds like a fun guy,” Eve said slyly.

Jane didn’t respond, but admitted to herself that some of her tears last night had been due to the fact that Perry Brewer was correct in his assessment of her. Not only was she a homely geek, but listening to him pleasure his girlfriend had struck a chord in her—no man had ever given her that kind of physical satisfaction.

He was right. She’d never had a good lay in her life.

“Uh…Jane? Since when do you use green blush?”

Jane gasped at her ghoulish handiwork. “I’m sorry—I’ll fix it.”

“That neighbor of yours sure has you distracted,” Eve remarked.

“Nothing a pair of earplugs won’t fix,” Jane murmured.

Turning her mind firmly away from Perry Brewer and his correct assumptions, she focused on Eve’s makeup and methodically played up the woman’s eyes, cheeks, and mouth. When she finished, Jane styled Eve’s luxurious hair while they chatted about today’s show.

“I just hope that ‘Unleashing Your Inner Wild Child’ appeals to enough viewers,” Eve said wryly. “It sounds a little like a sexual exorcism.”

Jane laughed and removed the paper cape, then stepped back and surveyed Eve’s turquoise-colored blouse. “I have a necklace that would look great with that outfit.”

From the bureau where she kept stock costume pieces, Jane removed a chunky silver and turquoise necklace and clasped it around Eve’s neck. Eve touched the piece and smiled wide. “It’s perfect. You have such a good eye, Jane.”

Jane smiled. “That’s what you pay me for.”

An assistant producer appeared in the doorway. “Bette Valentine is here.”

Eve glanced up at Jane. “And you’re going to earn your paycheck today.”

The women shared a laugh, then Eve heaved a sigh and pushed to her feet. “See you later.”

“Okay,” Jane said, fighting a yawn.

She had just finished cleaning up the vanity area when Bette Valentine sailed into the room sporting her typical tropical muu-muu, garish makeup, clanging earrings, and teased red hair.

“Hello, hello,” the middle-aged woman sang.

“Hello, Ms. Valentine,” Jane said, hoping her smile was stronger than it felt. “I’m Jane.”

“I remember from the last time I was on the show,” the woman said with a smile. “Although I’m not sure why they sent me in here. I did my own makeup already.”

“I’ll just give you a little touch up,” Jane said, gesturing to the chair. “You don’t want to look shiny under all those lights.”

The woman sat down, her bracelets and other jewelry jangling.

“Ms. Valentine, just between us, you might want to remove any jewelry that makes noise. The microphone will pick it up and our viewers won’t be able to hear you.”

“Oh? We wouldn’t want that,” the woman conceded.

“And I think I have a color of eye shadow that will better highlight those gorgeous green eyes of yours.”

One compliment at a time, she tweaked the woman’s appearance to tone down the makeup, extract some poof from the hair, and she even found a silver beaded tassel belt to cinch the voluminous muu-muu.

“That’s nice,” the woman agreed with a nod. Then she angled her head at Jane. “You’re quite pretty, you know.”

Jane blanched, her tongue tied as her mind replayed her neighbor’s brutal assessment of her. “No…I’m not.”