My phone dinged as I was finishing getting ready. I looked down, read it once and then read it twice.
Do you have a minute to meet me in the lobby? Jane had written.
You know I am in Paris, right? I responded in complete confusion. She knew I was in Paris.
Of your hotel.
In Paris. I wasn't sure what I was more shocked by, that she had flown across an ocean last minute or that she wanted to try to pitch me a story on a topic I had already made clear was not happening right now.
As I saw her, I had to try to focus on something other than her semi-sheer dress and knee-high boots. I expressed my surprise that she was in Paris, but left it at that. We had exchanged a single text since the disastrous phone call at midnight. Otherwise, we hadn't seen each other and that, I had thought, was for the better. She certainly had a way of distracting me. I dove right into the article she sent me.
Despite feeling awful that I had previously told her it wasn't the right time for me to bring up the misogynistic reproductive policies of Safford to the board, a statement that didn't sit right with me, I was going to have to reiterate what I had already said. Not the right time? This woman now knows she is predisposed to cancer and freezing her eggs is one of the many steps she has to take at an age when she should be out experiencing the world and behaving with abandon. Jane was too young for this. When would the right time be?
Like the coward I had been far too frequently of late, I told her she made some compelling points before telling her it was hard for me to sit this one out. She deflated and then, understandably, she got defensive.
"I really am sorry. It's just not a good time," I desperately wanted to hold her and not hurt her.
"I know. It just sucks. And that's not me trying to get you to change your mind."
She was near tears and my heart was breaking for her. Goddamn, Safford.
"Maybe it was silly of me to think I could be my own Prince Charming."
She refused to meet my eyes and the incredulity in them at her statement, so I went for blunt: "That's not silly."
Shaking my head with a serious stare she finally looked up, speaking with sadness but also a forgiveness I did not deserve.
"I don't know how or when but I'll figure it out," she stood. "I'll see you at the party."
She was well past me when I finally said 'yes'. I remained there, reflecting for a few minutes. While my heart was breaking for Jane, I was downright furious with myself. I knew my part in the hurt she was feeling. When I felt tears building, I knew I had to relocate to a more private spot.
That more private spot was in the hotel's lounge where I must have stared at her draft on my iPad for nearly an hour. Andrew mostly gave me space as I read, re-read and edited Jane's story. He did eventually approach to tell me about my dress and I asked if he had spoken with Kat about party specifics. To say he was stunned silent by the look I gave him when he giddily said I might as well go down swinging with the unusual plan for the party would be an understatement. One, I wasn't aware anyone knew what was happening with the board who didn't actually sit on the board. Two, I may not have been as neutral as I could have been given that my head was spinning through the memory of the hurt look Jane had on her face when she left me in the lobby. He wisely retreated. His words stayed with me.
"Fuck it," I said, swiping to publish.
Wherever Jane was at that moment, I was about to shock the hell out of her. I hoped she would believe that I changed my mind for the right reasons. I hoped she would truly forgive me for all of it.
Now it was time for me to put on my dress and do some shocking of my own.
###
As I approached Kat on the red carpet, I could feel Jane's eyes on me. Taking in my slicked back hair, my shorter than usual dress and sheer sleeves, she seemed to approve.
"Jacqueline, I don't even know what to say. Thank you so much." Jane's sincerity had always bowled me over. In this instance, I deserved none of it.
"Oh, no, I figure if Safford wants to punish me for publishing an article about women's health in their signature woman's magazine, I say have at it."
Her deep, luscious chestnut hair made her eyes sparkle and I was nearly sucked in. I excused myself, catching the smile she offered that, like dozens of times before, made me feel as if I were the only person at the party. Her ability to make me feel this way was unique to her—to us. Lord.
###
The bare shoulder, the classic black dress, higher than her normal heels showing off stunning calves and the pulled back hair and stark red lipstick. Jane looked spectacular.
"Hi." Jane approached me as I was standing alone, nursing a drink not far from one of the several bars set up at the party.
"Hello, Jane," I smiled over my drink at her. I definitely saw her checking out my legs, but God knows I have made her blush enough for one lifetime. I didn't let on.
"You could have told me that the board was coming after your job," she said, standing next to me without touching. "I would have understood and I would have let the article go."
I looked at her apologetic eyes and I felt she had to know.
"Jane, they are coming after me regardless. And your article deserved publishing," I told her. There was no way in hell I was letting her feel at all responsible for this. She had already taken on responsibility that wasn't hers when the printing of my story caused Ian to lose his head.
"What will you do if you lose your job?" she spoke discreetly.
"I imagine plenty of organizations will want me. I haven't tested the job market in a very long time," I nodded toward a designer and his wife.
"I guess everybody wants you."
I turned my head and realized her eyes were on me. I felt them hovering over my skin.
"I know we said we would talk when I got back from Paris, we certainly don't have to do it tonight, but would you like to get out of here? We could go back to the hotel bar or we can raid the mini bar in my room," I watched for her honest reaction when it reached her face.
"Yes."
I exhaled in a weird woosh of both relief and anticipation.
"I will send a text to the driver if you wouldn't mind getting our phones. I need to say goodbye to a few people and congratulate Kat on a successful evening."
She smiled appreciatively at mention of her friend.
"She needs that. She's not had the nicest trip to Paris."
My confusion must have been on my face. A couple at the bar was now within a listening distance. Jane tilted her head toward me, a delicious scent wafting over me.
"If you'll notice, Adena isn't beside her tonight. They had a fight. I don't believe Adena will be returning to the States in the immediate future," she was close enough to my ear I could feel her breath and it was making the skin on my neck tingle.
"I am sorry to hear that. They looked quite cute together when they arrived at the hotel," I hummed barely over the music. "I did see that Sutton won't be returning alone."
The sly smile on my face made clear that I knew, even though I hadn't until recently taken rumor for fact. I was simply happy for my dear friend and if Sutton Brady was who Richard Hunter wanted, who was I to judge? God knows I was falling hard for the beautiful woman next to me against all warnings and obvious costs.
"I will go get our phones," she said as she saw Richard approaching. She smiled at him as she passed and he was in a broad grin.
"Hello, Jacqueline."
"I see you won't be returning to New York solo," I smirked.
"No, I will not. The question is, will you be?" he looked over his shoulder in the direction Jane disappeared.
I looked at my linked hands and back up into his now serious face.
"I need you to know something," he reached into his pocket and then remembered he had checked his phone at the door. "An email came through as I was leaving for the party. I wasn't going to say anything tonight."
"A list of possible replacements?" I assumed.
He furrowed his brow.
"It is not unlike how things played out when Adele departed. I knew it was coming," I said, thinking back to how hurt my mentor was when it happened to her. It was an old boys club to this day.
"You were playing with fire when you published the article criticizing Safford," he placed a hand at the small of my back, leaning in closer to speak quietly. "And if you did it for her without consideration of the magazine, they will fire you without appeal."
I smiled at how ludicrous the situation was. While I felt Jane was right and the company needed to be taken to task for bad policy, I also understood that they had given me the salary line back only to be burned by both me and my writer. My writer.
"Richard, if that is the last article I publish as editor-in-chief, I will hold my head high and know I went out on my terms with nothing but the values of Scarlet in mind."
"You, Jacqueline Carlyle, are a force of nature and I am proud to call you my friend," he said before kissing my cheek. "I see a certain brunette eyeing you. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
I offered him an appreciative smile and a squeeze to his bicep before making my way through party-goers to Jane. She handed me my phone which I made a point of shutting off and putting in my clutch. I wanted no interruptions.
"Are you ready, Ms. Carlyle?" she whispered.
A chill overtook me. The way she spoke my name was nearly erotic. I could only nod and follow her lead. The only question was how far I would follow her. And the more I had mulled it over in my mind since she left for Incite, the more I was beginning to feel the answer to that question might be that I would follow her to the ends of the earth.
We settled in for and endured a quiet car ride. Once back at my hotel, I couldn't help but notice that I was physically reacting to the situation. My palms were clammy; my heart beating a quick tempo in my chest; my feet less steady; and, I was unusually warm in the air conditioned hotel lobby. We came back here to talk. No matter how many times I told myself that, I was nervous.
I never not get nervous.
To be continued…