Jane and Austen (5 page)

It wasn’t too hard to find Bella out by the Norland Courtyard. Her giggles led the way there. The deep timbre of Freddy’s voice answered her soft flirtations. “You’re not afraid of bad boys, are you?” he asked her.

“Is that what you think you are?”

“I’ll let you decide. Give me your phone.”

I grimaced, knowing he was typing his number into her fancy iPhone. Little fountains spurted water all around them to create an enchanting scene. Despite the romantic gesture, Freddy was a player. He’d leave her heart in a pile of splinters on the ground after he was through with her—he’d done it to so many girls that I’d lost count.

I sidestepped a potted palm and dropped the luggage at his feet. “Oh!” Bella blushed when Freddy picked them off the pavement. “But I don’t have any money for a tip.”

Tip? She wasn’t about to tip Freddy for my work, was she?

“I’m sure we could arrange something,” Freddy said. He tapped the wall of the stylish stucco building behind her and swung the luggage up the steps to the Fullerton Bungalow where she would be staying. Then without looking sheepish at all for taking all the credit for my work, he left with a cocky swagger to his step. “Text me,” he said, “but only when you’re desperate for my company.”

She watched him go with longing in her eyes. Despite Bella’s beauty, he’d leave her crying while he merrily chased after his next conquest. Wanting to save her from certain heartbreak, I gave her a bracing smile, an idea quickly taking form in my mind. “Don’t bother with a tip,” I told her—because I had one for her. “Freddy is terrible with money; too much hard living. Poor guy.”

“What? Really?” Her eyes went wide at the intrigue, which I suspected would happen—she seemed the type to go for the bad boys. Revealing who he was wouldn’t do the trick, but I knew what would.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It’s tough watching a guy waste his life like that. He just needs a really good girl to turn him around . . .” Bella looked like she might be the one who wanted to do that, and I smiled because I was about to smash whatever attraction she felt for him. “He needs to find someone who gets him . . . out of his mother’s basement, you know? I mean, everything he earns he spends on video games, pizza, and two-liter bottles of soda. He’s gonna blow up like that guy from
Supersize Me
.”

“Oh.” Her nose wrinkled and she didn’t look as intrigued.

“He gives girls his number and expects them to do all the work.”

She stuffed her phone in her pocket, looking embarrassed. “How do you know?” she asked. “Did you date him?”

Now it was my turn to throw up a little in my mouth. My vivid imagination deserted me inside some weird scene that held my potential life with Freddy—instead of being me, I was this sweet, little thing—a little worn down, my shoulders hunched. I followed the brilliant Freddy around in my skinny jeans and high heels, desperately trying to get his attention. He’d call me fat while he flirted with other girls. The impression rushed through my mind like a near-death experience, and I backed away from Bella, shaking my head. I knew what would happen if Freddy chose that moment to make an appearance; I’d shove Bella at him, shouting, “Keep the girl; just leave me alone!”

Instead I gave Bella an enigmatic smile. “Let’s just say he’s a character. We’ll leave it at that.” With those mysterious words to serve as a warning, I retreated to the main building where I stole up the back, taking three flights of stairs to my room. As Austen had pointed out so rudely, mine was the crummy loft upstairs. No matter how quaint his parents tried to make the Morland Loft look in the advertisements, it was never rented out. And so Austen’s parents ended up giving it to the staff for a meager monthly fee.

But I loved it—I felt like I lived in a tree house in the middle of a Swiss Family Robinson jungle. The loft had exposed rafters, and the palms brushed against the four windowsills on all sides of me. The birds nested on the roof outside. We shared this space together, which I was okay with as long as they didn’t share their mites with me, too.

I collapsed into my beanbag and stretched my legs out in front of me, trying to process everything, but I could only concentrate on one thing. Austen was back. It was only for a month. My heart gave a little flutter. A whole month! I could actually see him again. And then what? I tried to be stern with my heart. Nothing should happen, and it wouldn’t. Austen and I had both burned that bridge together—not only that, but we had thrown gasoline on that bridge and blown on it to make the flames burn hotter and brighter.

Still, even if any chance of a future had been ruined, I had every intention of being spitefully stunning while he was here; that would show him what he let slip through his fingers. I should take a shower. Do my hair. Put on some make-up. At least some lip gloss.
Starting now.
Except I couldn’t get off my beanbag chair. I leaned my head back and stared up at the rafters.

Austen was lost to me, but it didn’t mean that
all
romance was dead. I felt it. Things were a lot different here than it was at home. My parents had been realistic and longsuffering. My five older brothers were protective, and it was impossible for anything adventurous to happen to me when they guarded their little sister from anything too crazy. After moving here from Sacramento, I’d felt the possibility for adventure the instant I’d walked into the lobby of my new job.

Magic would happen at the North Abbey. There was a wedding in the works, after all—and it wasn’t just a client’s wedding, but a friend’s—that made me both guest and professional, kind of a weird position to be in. But it didn’t matter; even if Taylor’s bridesmaids were hard to handle, at least Bigley might have some nice groomsmen in the ranks. Probably no lasting relationships, but as part-guest, I could get to know them when I wasn’t on the clock. And of course, there was Bigley’s best mate, Will Dancey. He might be fun. Dancey was a rock star with a tragic past, if anyone could believe the lyrics in his songs.

What was Dancey like? He’d be a romantic, for sure, but probably distrustful of relationships. I wouldn’t even try to get past his defenses in a week—but we’d definitely have to share a
moment.

Not everyone is familiar with “the moment,” but it was one of my favorite theories, a little something I’d picked up from every Jane Austen flick I’d ever watched. The moment meant I had the guy’s attention—it was that moment that I knew he was entranced with me while I was with him. It could be a look, a brush of the hand. It could happen in the middle of a dance or while playing soccer. It usually lasted only for a moment, thus the term.

Afterwards, the memory of that moment had to be carried around in my mind as evidence that romance truly did exist and that someday a guy that I loved would look at me like that every time he saw me. It would never dim. It would flavor his laughter and his heartache and his joy. His every emotion would belong to me, and mine would belong to him.

Maybe that made me weird.

Now I wanted to listen to Dancey’s songs—they were just as sappy as I was. My London-Or-Bust, old-school suitcase that I used as my knickknack drawer was within grabbing distance, and I leaned forward on my beanbag to get to my iPod from in there so that I could download Dancey’s latest album. Most of the songs involved love gone wrong, but the most popular one was heart wrenching. The girl that had inspired that one had left poor Dancey’s heart a bloody pulp—likely she had stomped on it.

The song was called “Poppies.” The melody drifted through my ears like a haunted memory from the past:

 Don’t go.

Dancing through London in a field of poppies.

Red like the color of your lips.

You’re all I see.

Don’t go.

I rested my head against the back of my beanbag, letting the music flow through me. Dancey felt what he sang. That’s what I liked best about his music—everything he said came from the heart:

I smell the flowers in the mist of your hair.

Red like blood in a broken heart.

Kiss me again.

Don’t go.

As I listened to the words flow into the chorus, I decided that the girl who had inspired this song had set Dancey’s soul on fire, or he’d never care this much about her. It reminded me of what Austen had done to me. As soon as I came to that thought, I turned off the song.

It took the spider to force my legs into action. The insect poked a big, furry head from behind my shag rug, and I shot to my feet, scurrying backwards. The spider did the same thing on the hardwood floor, but went the opposite way until it disappeared behind my flat screen TV.

My hands were shaky, but since I was up, I headed for my vanity. It was a cute little setup with a mirror and a porcelain bowl sink. I took a flat iron to the auburn curls in my hair and dabbed some lotion onto my face. Austen would kick himself when he saw me. I’d look so good he’d wish every moment back with me to make me fall in love with him. Just as I was applying the mascara, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I looked at the screen and saw it was a text from Taylor.

COME DOWN TO THE ALLENHAM LOUNGE. REDD IS HERE.

Every romantic idea in my head fled at the name. Oh no. Oh no! Not Redd. While I had been falling all over Austen last summer, Redd had done his best to distract me. And no matter how much I tried to cushion my rejection, I had crushed him. My guilt consumed me.

Redd wasn’t supposed to come to Taylor’s wedding. We hadn’t reserved a room for him, and Taylor hadn’t said anything about her bestie crashing the festivities at the last second. I had pried very, very carefully to get that out of her. I had asked if anyone from the military was attending and she just looked at me blankly.

That was supposed to mean that Redd was not coming!

We hadn’t even dated. Of course, it all depended on who told the story, but I never counted the evenings we had spent together as actual dates. I thought that we were hanging out. Taylor had been there, too, and I hadn’t suspected that Redd would make a move, until he tried to kiss me. Redd had left last summer a very disappointed and embittered man.

My phone buzzed with another text from Taylor: HURRY. HE’S ASKING FOR YOU.

Chapter 5

“A man does not recover from such a devotion of the heart to such a woman! He ought not; he does not.”

—Jane Austen,
Persuasion

Instead of going to the Allenham Lounge
, I ran for the lobby, only thinking of Austen. Sure, he hated me now, but he’d have to see reason. He was the one who had gotten me into this mess, and he could get me out of it.

My feet pounded down the stairs and through the hallway. I flung open the door, knowing my entrance resembled more Ann-Marie’s usual style than mine. “Austen. Austen! Austen!” I kept my voice to a harsh whisper.

Austen looked up from his books, this time with interest. I knew I looked crazy right now, but I didn’t care. I raced to the counter and flattened against it, only inches from his face. “I need you!”

“I thought you said . . .”

“Not like that. Austen, the Captain is here!”

“The Captain?”

“Redd!”

“He’s a captain now?” His voice lost interest.

“Yeah, he was promoted. That happens in the navy sometimes. You have
got
to pretend that you and I have something going on, so I don’t look like a total loser.” My eyes raced to the door between us and the lounge. It stood as a barrier between me and the captain’s potential new girlfriend—I was sure of it. Even if I didn’t like Redd, I had rejected him, and if he knew that I was single and still available, well, then he’d rub it in my face and win. Sort of. Well, he would see it that way, and it killed me.

Austen punched numbers steadily into his laptop. I put my hand in front of the screen. “You’re the one who talked me out of liking him!” I said.

He snorted. “No, that was you.”

“Was it?”

Austen peeled my hand away from his screen. “You do have a mind of your own sometimes.”

Yeah, I did, but I really thought that Austen hadn’t thought that much of him, either—maybe because I had always misinterpreted everything Austen did back then. When Austen said Redd was a little off, that meant that Austen wanted to get together with me. Well, it didn’t matter how wrong I was. I had looked for any excuse to drop the guy after I’d discovered he liked me, and when Redd proved to be such a poor loser afterwards, I was even gladder that I got out of dating him.

“Fine,” I said. “It was me. I’m to blame. Can you do me the favor anyway?”

“No.”

“What? Why?” I hated that my voice came out a whine.

His eyes danced mischievously at me. “You’re mad at me. Remember? You’re not even supposed to be speaking to me.”

“Can we just put a hold on that for a bit?” Yes, I was throwing my self-respect out the window. It usually happened in situations like these. “You could at least pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“Not a chance.” He snickered. “This is going to be a lot of fun to watch.”

I should’ve known he wouldn’t play the knight errant. It wasn’t Austen’s style, and still . . . “I would totally do it for you!”

He laughed. “I know.”

I really, really hated him right now. He checked out my face and laughed again. “Careful, you might spontaneously combust.”

I changed tactics. “I’ll pay you to do it!”

“How?” Now he looked interested. “You don’t have a life savings—you just said you didn’t.”

I flinched, but before he could take any of his mean words back, I stormed to the door to the Allenham Lounge and ripped it open.

Captain Redd Wortham leaned against the fireplace, staring into it. The flames crackled and spit. The glow of it painted his cheeks gold. It was a dashing look with his intense eyes and his cropped, dark hair—it had red highlights like his name. Soft piano music, courtesy of Ann-Marie, played in the background. I listened to Taylor’s merry conversation. She talked, of all things, about the weather to her cousin and her husband.

Since no one was aware I had come in, I studied the little group while they chatted and chuckled together. Reverend Eddy and Elly McFarey were a young, stylish couple, whose heads nodded in unison. Elly, Taylor’s cousin, was, in a word, adorable. She had apple-red cheeks on an otherwise pale face and wore a colorful scarf and a short skirt with boots. Her vibrant red hair was her crowning glory. Her husband, Eddy, seemed more subdued in comparison. He wore black-rimmed glasses over clear blue eyes with blond, almost transparent lashes. He had a cool geek chic thing going with his lanky build, bow tie and suit jacket.

The gentle energy surging from the couple immediately put me at ease. The cousins were almost opposites. Where Taylor was wound tighter than hair in pigtails, Elly was calm and laid-back. She patted her cousin’s hand in a friendly way; her touch had a soothing effect on Taylor.

My eyes drew back to the captain. He glanced my way, and his jaw tightened. Oh my. He was brooding, wasn’t he? Unbidden, the image of a Jane Austen scene came to mind. I couldn’t help it. Redd looked the epitome of a wronged suitor. The collar of his dark jacket was a little higher than usual. His khaki pants could pass as the breeches of a fashionable gentleman of the era. Due to all of his military training, his broad shoulders and narrow waist gave him a triangular look. He stiffened when he saw me. And then he did exactly what I thought he would do—pretended I didn’t exist. He looked past me and nodded. “Austen.”

Austen sauntered into the room, his eyes dancing with humor. “Redd, you came for little Miss Taylor’s wedding?”

“She put a note in my invitation that I couldn’t refuse.”

Had she? The traitorous Taylor stood up, clasping Redd’s hands in hers. I hoped she wasn’t trying to set us up again, because if so, it would not go the way she had planned. She smiled like a certain bear with a honey jar. “Redd, you see, Jane has come. I told you she would if I texted that you were here.”

“Interesting; she wasn’t nearly as responsive to my texts,” Redd said in his deep voice.

My face bloomed red. Austen gave me a considering stare, and I knew I looked the hypocrite since I had chided him about the same thing only an hour ago. “Is that so?” I asked. Redd’s last text seemed like a big group invite. “I’m sorry. I thought I was part of some mass group text or I would’ve said something.”

Austen smirked at that because I was proving to be just as big of a jerk as he was.

At Redd’s disbelieving look, I remembered his other texts too late—he
had
hounded me with texts after our
sort of
break up—hardly any of which I’d returned. Oh dear, yeah, I was a coldhearted jade and now a liar. I remembered that I had tried to wean him off me by replying to his numerous communications with a text a day until that proved ineffective and I had to go cold turkey and stop texting him altogether. His last text before the mass invite had accused me of being dead.

And apparently I thought so little of it that I had immediately forgotten all about it because—well, to be honest—I always had these kinds of run-ins when it came to the dating scene. That, along with a terrible memory, made me quite the villain. I knew I made a lot of enemies, but usually it didn’t come back to bite me so hard.

I mumbled something about being a bad texter, and Austen turned away from me, but not quick enough. His expression told me exactly how amusing he thought my predicament was.

Changing the subject was Taylor’s talent, and she did it with a charming laugh. “Redd, dear, where are you staying while you’re in town?”

Redd’s expression smoothed into a pleasant one. “Just next door to here actually. I’m staying at the Kellynch.”

Taylor made a strangled sound. “You are?” It made sense that he’d go to North Abbey’s rival rather than be close to me.

“It’s close to the action, but not too close,” he told her with a wink.

“Well, there’s no vacancy here,” Austen said. “Jane stole the last room.”

I gave him a warning look, but I shouldn’t have bothered. Redd wasn’t about to discuss anything “Jane” related. Instead, he smiled vaguely at the minister and his wife sitting across the room. “Did you drive all the way from Washington DC for the wedding?” he asked.

The couple chatted amiably with him about the differences of weather. Predictably, Austen got bored. “You know,” he said, “if Redd wanted to stay here, Jane has a way of finding a place for everybody at North Abbey. It’s like the fish and loaves—something for everyone. You should know that reference, Reverend.”

Eddy looked up politely, but Redd continued his conversation with the minister’s wife as if Austen hadn’t spoken. Once again, I wasn’t a subject that Redd wished to pursue.

Austen tried again. “Jane’s also an excellent surfer. I think she gets that from all the instructors she’s had.”

Redd would know that I was a lousy surfer because he had offered to teach me, but again Austen’s attempts fell on deaf ears. Austen hid another laugh. I glared at him. Apparently, this had turned into a game to see how far Austen could push Redd before he talked to me.

“Jane,” Austen said. “Is that a spider on your arm?”

I jumped.

“What?” Taylor cried. She propelled to her feet and danced around in her attempts to smash it. “Where did it go?”

The music came to an abrupt halt while everyone but Redd and me searched for the nonexistent spider. I was going to kill Austen for that one. He pointed my general direction, and Taylor brushed at me while trying not to touch me. Elly stomped the floor in her sleek black boots in an attempt to kill it, while Eddy watched on.

Ann-Marie stood up from behind the piano, her face pale. “Is it dead yet?”

“Yeah,” I said, shoving everyone’s helpful hands away. “It’s gone. It’s gone. Pretty much smashed dead.”

Redd gave me a disgusted look and went to our little piano player who stood vulnerably by the bench. “Are you all right?” he asked her.

“Yes,” Ann-Marie said in her most fragile voice.

“Did you need someone to turn pages?”

 “I would like that very much.”

Sure, the captain showed concern when I wasn’t the victim. Austen coughed, and I knew it was to cover up another laugh as I stood, forgotten, in the middle of the room while everyone else patted themselves to ensure there were no creepy-crawly eight-footed creatures on them. Maybe that meant that I was excused?

I tried to slip from the room, but Taylor’s voice stopped me. “You haven’t said hello to Elly yet, Jane.”

“Oh, sorry.” I rushed to Taylor’s cousin to remedy the situation. “I’m sorry for that poor introduction, Elly.” I sat down on the couch facing her and her husband, Eddy. The couple both had very pleasant looks on their faces and exchanged the most polite conversation I’d ever experienced—possibly in my lifetime, most definitely since this morning.

Austen found the other side of the couch next to me, and after the minister and his wife gathered my life history, I listened to theirs, trying to ignore Austen’s smirks and coughs.

“Do you know how they met?” Taylor asked.

I shook my head and scooted closer to Austen, having every intention of elbowing him in the ribs if he didn’t stop laughing at the snub Redd had given me. “I don’t believe you’ve mentioned it,” I said.

“They were in-laws first,” Taylor said.

“Uh . . .”

“Not like that! Their siblings got married first,” Taylor said, “and Elly’s new sister-in-law was such a pill. Elly couldn’t imagine that Fran’s brother could actually be so sweet.”

“No, no,” Elly countered. “Fran is a dear.”

Taylor put a hand over her mouth in a fake whisper. “In Elly language that means that the two are barely on speaking terms. When Elly’s parents went on a big European vacation a few years ago, Fran and Elly’s brother decided to come over and house-sit. Elly was already staying at the house and going to school, so there really wasn’t a reason, except Elly’s brother and Fran wanted free rent. And Fran was so bossy, she took the best rooms in the house and refused to invite Elly to any of the parties she held
in Elly’s own house
. Nice, huh? Almost like Fran thought Elly would steal her friends away.”

That had Austen’s attention, but then again, he was always indignant when he saw an injustice. “You didn’t say anything to your sister-in-law, Elly?” he asked.

Elly’s hands knit together. “I didn’t want bad blood between us.”

Taylor laughed. “Imagine how mad Fran was when she found out that her own brother fell for the girl she thought would steal her friends away from her.”

“Oh no,” Elly said. “It wasn’t like that.” Her pretty face pinched with discomfort. “Of course Fran wasn’t upset.”

Taylor nodded in true gossip fashion. “Fran was furious.”

Eddy hid a smile. Apparently Taylor wasn’t exaggerating his sister’s rage, because he didn’t contradict it. He put an arm around his wife and kissed her on the cheek. “I fell in love with Elly the moment I met her. She’s the only one with the patience to listen to my boring sermons.”

I realized that I had a cheesy grin on my face. This was why I loved romance—despite the pitfalls, the broken hearts, my pitiful attempts. Austen and I sat closer than we had before. I felt his warmth before I stiffened and edged away. I was still angry at him, and just to be clear, I leaned away from him.

He turned, his eyes darkening on mine. If I didn’t know better I’d misinterpret that look as someone who was interested. But I knew better. It didn’t matter if I had accidentally declared my love; Austen wasn’t about to change his mind about me. This wasn’t some 80’s movie. Despite that fact, his hand went to my arm and I felt his thumb brush against my bare skin. His mouth opened to say something just as Ann-Marie finished another piece on the piano.

“Very good, Ann-Marie,” Redd said in a powerful voice that interrupted the moment. “Remind me to come and listen to you more often. It might give me a reason to visit North Abbey once Taylor is gone.”

Ah yes, another dig at me. Typical. I moved from Austen and his confusing “friendly” touches so that I could clear my throat. “We’ll try to provide more entertainment for you soon, Redd. Maybe a trumpet, some drums.”