"Good morning," Kat's voice brought Jane to an abrupt stop.
"See, if there had been nothing to feel guilty about, you wouldn't have stopped. You would have told me to shut my mouth and would have rounded the corner for your room by now."
Kat was sitting in a chair with what looked to be a cup of tea, probably scrolling through her phone up until the point she heard Jane put her key in the door.
"There is nothing for me to feel guilty about," Jane put her purse down and sat on the couch. "Though I am curious why you're sitting here at six fifteen in the morning, dad."
"Hey! Like you wouldn't be doing the same if it were me walking through that door."
"You are right, and I have, but given the time and that I have to be out the door in an hour, can we maybe talk about this later?" she asked sweetly.
"Would you two shut up!" a grumble came from the direction of the spare bed.
"How is she?" Kat whispered.
"She can still hear you!" Sutton growled.
"Okay, okay. I don't work tonight. Dinner?" Kat asked.
"Yeah, that sounds nice."
Jane leaned over to kiss the top of her friend's head and despite her noticing it in the car on the way home, she never would have thought a certain woman's perfume would be present enough on her skin that Kat picked up on it right away.
Dinner would be very interesting.
...
Jane and Sutton were talking outside the conference room where the writers would be meeting momentarily.
"So she hadn't been to bed yet?" Sutton asked Jane. "She couldn't have been at The Belle that late. I thought I heard her come in just after midnight."
Jane didn't dare say that she had been sneaking out at a little past midnight instead of Kat coming home early.
She didn't dare say anything because she couldn't say anything. Her mind went totally blank as she looked up to see Jacqueline coming out of the elevator, handing her jacket and purse to Andrew, taking a cup of coffee and her iPad.
She was late. Jacqueline was never late. This gave Jane a small measure of satisfaction. And yet even when walking into the office late, the editor looked drop-dead gorgeous.
"Good morning, ladies," the blonde smiled as she walked past them into the conference room. "Joining us, Jane?"
Hearing her name on the woman's tongue brought vivid memories to mind. She felt warm in places she shouldn't as she had to be nothing less than totally professional.
"Bye, Sut."
She followed behind Jacqueline, her eyes noticing her skirt. God help me, Jane said to herself. The skirt shorter than was Jacqueline's norm though not scandalously short. The older woman's legs were flawless. Jane had thought so before one had been naked and over her shoulder...
Spinning a chair around for Jane as she sat down in her own, Jacqueline began the meeting by going around the room to discuss articles. She started on the opposite side of the table from Jane, appearing as though giving the writer a moment to settle, instead really doing so because she needed a moment to slow her own heartbeat before she would be looking straight at the woman who had been naked with her in bed two and a half hours ago.
"If you all could look at the screen, you will see your article-specific traffic," Jacqueline began. "Unfortunately, without Kat there has been a slight dip across all social media platforms. Traffic has not been the focus."
Jacqueline carried on talking about stats. Without skipping a beat, she reached under the table and took Jane's hand, giving it a squeeze. With everyone facing the other way, Jacqueline was able to remain holding the writer's hand.
"Now, Sage, tell me about this week's article," the blonde reluctantly let go as all eyes were back on her.
The loss of Jacqueline's hand in her own was dwarfed by the elation Jane felt at knowing they hadn't spent the night together only to have it "put away in the desk drawer" as Jacqueline had referred to her night with Miles Shaw. The gesture made this perfectly clear.
"Jane? Let's talk about the vertical," the voice reeled her back to the present. "What do we have to look forward to from you this week?"
Jane swallowed hard and forged ahead with her ideas. She looked directly at Jacqueline as she spoke and it turned out to be not as awkward or dicey as she feared. When she was done and they had moved on to the writers' questions, Jacqueline looked at Jane briefly, winking. The editor was equally relieved that in the course of doing their jobs they didn't allow the events of the night before to get in the way.
"It sounds like you have it well in hand. You know where I am if you need feedback or have questions," the golden-haired woman stood, announcing the end to the meeting. "Alex, I have notes for you on the podcast. You can grab them from Andrew. And Jane, stop by my office before the end of the day. That's it everybody. Go do good work."
Jacqueline was gone before Jane could ask what Jacqueline wanted to see her about. And with Andrew standing outside the door with notes for the editor-in-chief's next meeting, Jane knew better than to slow the woman down.
Andrew glared at her for good measure.
Instead of returning to her office, Jane sat at the conference table and was reminded that it was a night in that very room that had changed everything.
Her phone buzzed.
You look striking in that sheer top, it read.
Jane smiled, looking down at the choice she had made at the last minute when Sutton telling her to hurry up.
I prefer you out of it, the second text left Jane flummoxed.
Jacqueline Carlyle could play dirty. Jane learned something new about the woman every day.
…
"Do you have a minute?"
Looking up from her desk, the editor smiled warmly at the woman in her doorway.
"For you? I can find several minutes," Jacqueline stood and walked around her desk, leaning against it. She gestured with a finger and a tilt of her head for Jane to step in and close the door.
Neither woman knew what would constitute a safe distance. Jane stepped forward, but kept five feet from the woman she found dangerously attractive.
"I may have made a bad hire and given that it was my first, I have tried to fix the problem quietly. I seem to only be making it worse. How do you give up control and allow someone to write the piece they want to write when you know it could be done more effectively your own way?" the writer missed the irony in asking her own editor the question.
"Does he have potential?" Jacqueline asked.
"He does."
"Will having more experience under his belt be enough to get him to the level you feel he needs to be writing at?" the editor folded her arms across her chest and thought carefully about how to advise Jane.
"Doesn't experience always help?" Jane's brow furrowed and then she saw the glint in Jacqueline's eye and the beginnings of a smirk. "Oh, shut up."
Then came that amazing laugh. It made Jane's knees weak.
"Give it time, Jane. This is new for you, too, remember? You are both finding your footing."
"Now I'm entirely unsure which conversation we are having," the writer could banter, too.
"Hmm, well, whichever conversation it is, it is no replacement for your stopping by at the end of the day, okay?" Jacqueline pointed a finger at her chest.
"I guessed as much. Thank you, Jacq," Jane began to turn for the door when the lowered voice of Jacqueline stopped her.
"Maybe be careful when and where you call me that?" the editor requested.
Jane smiled.
"Ah, yes. Temptation or something."
And back to her office the brunette went.
...
Jane tapped once on the glass office door and entered when cobalt eyes locked on her own. She didn't need the woman's permission. The look alone said it all.
"Hi, Jane," Jacqueline said as she took off her reading glasses and closed her laptop.
"You are a sight in glasses," Jane spoke with a newfound confidence.
"I hate that I need them, but thank you."
Rounding her desk, the editor approached the young woman, glanced out of her office into the larger space to be sure they were alone and kissed Jane. When a small hand found the back of her neck, Jacqueline shook her head. She knew where a touch like that might lead. And she did need to discuss a few work-related items.
"Mmm...take a seat. Would you like a drink?" her words vibrated against pouty lips.
"Do I need one?" Jane was trying to be coy. Trepidation was the overriding expression.
Two bottles and two glasses were pulled from the cabinet. Jane smiled when she realized one of the bottles was top shelf vodka for her.
Jacqueline offered the bottle and glass to Jane.
"Thank you."
The writer was touched that the other woman would one, know her preferred drink and two, buy a bottle to stash in her office for occasions like this.
"I need to ask a delicate question and then we can move on," the editor said as she poured her own drink and joined Jane on the—far more comfortable than Jane's—office couch.
"Sure?" the writer was concerned.
"Your new hire..." Jacqueline began. "Did something personal happen that I need to know about?"
Jane closed her eyes and sighed.
"I assume you are asking me as editor-in-chief and not as—"
"The woman whose bed you left early this morning?" Jacqueline smiled, succeeding in lightening the mood.
Blushing as she fought off a flashback of kissing Jacqueline goodbye, Jane nodded.
"The answer is yes and not entirely what you think."
Making herself as comfortable in the short skirt as was possible, the editor crossed one leg under the other. She propped her head on a hand on the back of the couch.
"And what do I think?" Jacqueline queried.
"The interview was a disaster. We got off on the wrong foot. I accused him of being a terrible feminist because he was staring at my boobs. It turns out I had something on my shirt," Jane shook her head at her foolishness. "I wasn't far removed from my surgery and I was touchy."
"It would be understandable for him to notice them," Jacqueline said in jest, the beginnings of a devious grin developing on her face. "Sorry, back to editor-in-chief. Is there something else?"
Jane groaned. A muffled 'yes' concerned her boss.
"I think we both may have mistook friction for feelings. Again, the hormonal rollercoaster that I was on when I first returned to work impaired my thinking and I had been through an awful breakup. Neither of which excuse my behavior. It has been made clear that feelings were neither appropriate nor reciprocated."
Jacqueline looked long and hard at the young woman. Whether she was thinking about the failure on Jane's part or their own situation was a mystery to Jane herself. She would have loved to read the editor's mind.
"It won't happen again, Jacq," she hung her head in shame.
"I don't doubt that," the blonde moved closer. "And I understand how it happened. I also know how easily it could be misconstrued. Be careful, Jane."
Looking up, the young woman saw something there that had definitely not been there before. Worry? Definitely. Jealousy? Maybe. Love? It couldn't be. Could it? Jane wondered, her heart beating a symphony at the thought.
"Now that we have that out of the way," Jacqueline took a slow sip of her scotch and seemed to relax. "Do we need to talk about last night?"
"Is there something to talk about?" Jane truly wasn't sure. She hadn't said it jokingly. She knew neither of them had any idea where this was going. Talking about sleeping together likely wouldn't clear that up.
"I would like for it to happen again."
A single statement and Jane was floored.
"I... God, yes."
Jane's answer was accompanied by a glance over her shoulder and a kiss of relief and affirmation. When Jacqueline's tongue slipped under hers, Jane felt the rush she'd felt the first time they had kissed. Her body gravitated toward Jacqueline and Jane shut it down by breaking the kiss.
"Not in the office and definitely not yours," Jane breathed.
"I don't think going to yours would be a very good idea."
Jane was having a terrible time restraining herself.
"Mmm...and why would that be?" she knew that answer.
"Because you have been admiring my legs all day," Jacqueline found enough willpower to force some separation between them.
"That was your goal this morning when you chose that skirt, wasn't it?" the writer charged.
"Don't tell me you didn't choose that shirt with that underneath without my eyes in mind," the blonde slipped her feet out of her shoes, bending to rub them.
"Here," Jane patted her lap and the older woman naturally put her legs up on the couch with her feet in Jane's lap.
As if they had been doing it for years, Jane began massaging Jacqueline's appreciative feet.
"Did the boys suspect anything this morning?" Jane had been wondering all day.
"No, I got up after you left and had a long, hot shower. I was in my robe and makeup when I finally had to haul Connor out of bed for school."
"Just your robe and makeup?" the brunette teased.
"Wouldn't you like to know," Jacqueline chuckled.
Their banter and the foot rub continued. Eventually Jane's hands moved higher to Jacqueline's toned calves.
"As much as I want to stay right here with you, I promised Kat we would do dinner," the writer was apologetic.
"I need to get home soon, too. Connor will be returning from jazz band practice and James gets irritable when it comes to taking care of his brother. If I had to speculate, I'd say he resents the extra responsibility he has taken on since Ian left."
Moving to place her feet on the floor, Jacqueline put out a hand to retrieve Jane's glass and liquor bottle. The young woman shook her head and took the woman's hand in both of hers instead.
"I hope you are talking about all of this, Jacq. Maybe I am not the right person given, well, everything, but I am always willing to listen," she offered.
Tears were welling in the editor's eyes.
"You get out of here before I start crying," Jacqueline kidded.
"If you promise you will talk to someone."
For a moment Jacqueline allowed herself to marvel at the tenderness Jane treated her with. She always knew the young woman to be compassionate, considerate and sensitive. She had been seeing the nuance of those characteristics lately.
"I am, sweetie. Thank you," Jacqueline nodded.
They stood, Jacqueline drew Jane against her against her body. She held her there and filed the memory away. As the hug ended, Jane pressed a tender kiss to Jacqueline's cheek.
"Do you remember what you said to me about Kat chasing a woman that wasn't right for her?" Jacqueline voiced her worry.
"Yes?" Jane waited.
"That's not us, right?" the tone of her voice told the true extent of that worry.
Jane brought Jacqueline back to her.
"I wasn't chasing you, Jacq. And you weren't chasing me. It happened." She rested her chin on the taller woman's shoulder. "There's no right or wrong."
Jane was reluctant to leave. A discussion about Kat would need to happen eventually.
I love you, she confessed silently. I can't possibly tell her this.
Jacqueline nodded her understanding and attempted to put the worry aside. In Jane's arms this path they were on felt less daunting.
"Have a good night," Jacqueline said.
"If you need anything, I am a text away."
Jane was through the door when she looked back to find blue eyes following her every step. She offered a kind smile and a half wave.
…
"Is Sutton coming over tonight after class?" Kat asked before taking another bite of pho.
The two women were eating at a hole in the wall spot near their apartment. It was a favorite and rarely so busy as to distract from real conversation.
"I don't know," Jane shook her head. "I'm worried about her."
"Has she said anything more about where Richard stands? I assume he doesn't know about… the guy?" Kat asked.
"I don't know. She hasn't said anything. She doesn't want to talk about it."
"Hmm...sounds like someone else I know," the curious woman put down her utensils and focused on Jane.
"What? No! I am not going through what she is. And I'm not being secretive," Jane defended herself half-heartedly.
"No, you often come home at six in the morning, heading straight for the shower."
Kat grinned to show she wasn't upset or hurt by her best friend keeping something from her.
"Kat..."
"Heading straight for the shower smelling like a certain tall, gorgeous and married blonde, I might add."
Surprise and shame began to color the writer's face.
"How did you...?" Jane thought back to that morning and the kiss she'd placed on Kat's head. "Oh, shit."
"You know, had I not been sitting there when you came home, I would have been none the wiser. You have done very well at keeping this under wraps. I have been kicking myself for being so caught up in my own stuff. So caught up in me that I failed to notice what's going on with you. I assume Sutton doesn't know either or she would have blabbed by now."
The brunette began fidgeting with her napkin.
"Nobody knows, Kat. I barely know what's happening. And Sutton may or may not feel like she needed to tell Richard. I can't put Jacqueline in that position," Jane was alarmed at the possibility of once again putting the editor's job in jeopardy.
"Is Ian totally out of the picture?" Kat all but whispered; there was no reason to fear being overheard in the small space.
"Yes...I think?" Jane groaned.
"Jane!" the woman became animated. "You don't know? She hasn't said? Why haven't you asked? I thought he was out of the country. And the boys. How has she kept it from them?"
"Take a breath, Kat."
"Sorry, I have an entire day to wonder about this."
"Ian is out of the country, yes. No, the boys don't know. As I understand it, they haven't filed the divorce papers yet because they want to settle as much of it as possible between themselves and not through lawyers. I do find it interesting that the question you haven't asked is one of sexuality," Jane was curious as to why that was.
"Hers or yours?" Kat asked, receiving a shrug from Jane in response. "Hers—I have seen her look at you. Yours—you were far too quick to say you would never kiss another woman."
"What do you mean the way she looks at me?" the brunette was taken aback by this.
"Honey, she watches you as if you were the only other person in the office. She admires you with every glance. I have watched her turn you from appetizer into dessert in a matter of seconds. While I may not be oblivious to it, I think most are. Sutton jokes about you two, but not in a way that suggests she actually sees what is there. There was never anything to worry about when Ryan was in the picture. And I assumed there wasn't with Ian, either. I don't know what has changed, though."
"Ian left for Ukraine around the same time I broke up with Ryan," the writer explained. "When Ian came back and they were going to work on their marriage, I shifted my as of yet unknown to me feelings for Jacqueline on to my own employee. That disaster I am still navigating. And then Ian left."
"Because you came between them with your article about the situation at his magazine! Wait... did you say feelings? Feelings-feelings?" Kat's eyes were wide.
Covering her face and her embarrassment, Jane let out an exaggerated sigh. She spoke: "It is as if you are asking me if I like-like her."
When the woman across from her was silent, Jane looked up and wasn't sure if she missed something.
"Was last night the first time?" Kat lowered her voice.
"Define first?" Jane scrunched up her face.
"I am gone from Scarlet for a hot second and look at all I have missed. Spill."
It was demand, not a question and for the first time since kissing Jacqueline in the conference room, Jane allowed herself to confide in someone. She didn't mention Miles Shaw. The two women remained at dinner long after the pho was polished off and the staff began wiping down tables for the night. They hadn't talked like that in a long time.
...
Jane was leaning against her old desk, listening to Alex drone on about his podcast. It struck her how differently things were turning out for them at Scarlet. She wouldn't have guessed the day she was promoted to writer that he would go the podcast route and she would end up with a vertical. He seemed very happy with how things were going.
"Alex, we need to fix this," Jacqueline approached, handing him copy that had quite a bit of red writing on it. "Good morning, Jane."
Jacqueline projected confidence in a way that was sexy. And her warmth had always made Jane feel welcome.
"This is beginning to look like my comparative world government paper in college," he chuckled.
"It's the red pen, isn't it?" Jane pursed her lips in full agreement with her fellow writer.
"Both of you could prevent this if—"
Jacqueline was cut off by Andrew.
"Jacqueline, Ian is on the phone."
The editor's body went rigid. She was either annoyed by the intrusion into the lighthearted conversation the three of them were having or she dreaded speaking to the father of her children.
"If you will excuse me," the blonde looked briefly at Jane. It wasn't an apology. It wasn't a plea. She appeared to be summoning strength and would gladly take any the writer had to offer.
"What time is it in Ukraine?" Alex asked before reviewing the marked-up article.
It's late, Jane knew. She wanted to look at Jacqueline but fear kept her from doing so. Instead she went to her office, put on her noise cancelling headphones and got to work.
...
Jane sensed a change in the lighting or her office and looked up to find Jacqueline leaning against her door jamb.
"Have you been there long?" she asked as she took off her headphones.
"No," Jacqueline did not approach.
"Should I be concerned that you aren't coming in?"
The writer had a pit in her stomach.
"If I come in, I will want to close and lock this door and never go back out there to face my schedule," Jacqueline's words diffused Jane's anxiety.
"Andrew would find you eventually."
Jacqueline shook her head.
"You're right, damn him."
"Is everything okay with...?" Jane's cringe said the rest. "I can be a grown up and say his name."
"You don't have to," the editor glanced behind her to ensure their privacy. "He was calling to apologize for his mother's behavior. James told him everything."
"Oh," the brunette was surprised. "Not quite an apology from the woman herself, but an apology nonetheless."
"I suppose so. He also heard about the situation upstairs," the editor need not say more.
"Ah."
"Yes. However, that isn't the reason I am here. James has an overnight school trip Friday and Connor will be at a sleepover. Would you like to come over?"
Jane's body immediately teemed with anticipation.
"Yes, I would love to. Though might I suggest I bring takeout? After this week, you do not need to be cooking me a meal," Jane proposed.
"That's fair."
"Hey Jacq, I'm glad—" she stopped to choose her words carefully. "I am glad he cares about you."
Jacqueline was speechless.
"Care is not enough to sustain a relationship, but you deserve kindness."
The way Jane spoke of Ian made Jacqueline feel guilty. Would she ever tell her writer that when Ian asked her to drop the investigation into States & Nations he had threatened her with the boys finding out in the tabloids about their parents' marriage.
"Thank you, my dear. Thank you for... just thank you," Jacqueline couldn't string the right words together or keep from saying words she couldn't or shouldn't.
Jane tilted her head to the side to take in the woman before her.
"We'll talk later?" she asked the blonde.
"Yes, and Friday?" they returned to the question of the hour.
"Absolutely."
The writer put her headphones back on as she watched Jacqueline go.
To be continued…