Jane and Austen (27 page)

Chapter 23

“We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of a man; but this would be nothing if you really liked him.”

—Jane Austen,
Pride and Prejudice

I flipped open my phone
and texted Austen after I parted ways with Dancey.

ME: MEET ME IN TEN MINUTES AT CHURCHELL’S SHACK.

The sand was getting in my shoes, and I ripped them off and dumped the sand back to the beach where it belonged. The bachelor parties were tonight. The wedding was tomorrow. We didn’t have much time to sabotage this thing. I had left a confused Dancey behind. He wasn’t so keen on my idea, but I didn’t need his cooperation. I needed Austen’s brain.

My buzzing phone signaled that Austen had written me back: I’M ON MY WAY.

A warm feeling permeated through my heart and shot energy into my limbs at the thought of Austen coming for me. Dancey had told me that I was insane for suggesting he steal the girl he loved the day before her wedding, but I wasn’t through with him yet. Taylor loved Dancey back. I was sure of it. And no girl was safe until Dancey was off the rebound. I would be doing everyone a favor.

I ran up the steps at Churchell’s Shack and shoved into the crowded place, not stopping to look for danger—namely Colin, Redd, Crawley, or Bigley. Honestly, I couldn’t keep track of them anymore.

“You’re here again?”

I hunched my shoulders, seeing the dirty blonde femme fatale scrubbing at the counter. “Hi, Junie.” I sped past her and found a seat beside a fern. It was my traditional rendezvous spot with Austen. I fiddled with my phone a bit more as twenty minutes or so passed with no sign of the man I was crazy about. I was ready to wriggle out of my seat with impatience until I saw his lanky figure on the beach in the distance. He wore a Henley shirt and board shorts, and I drank in the sight of him.

He tackled the steps to the shack in the same manner that I had and cleared the doorway, his eyes roving over the crowd until they lingered on me. His smile was inviting. Everything about him looked and felt great. He greeted Junie in his usual charming way and wound through the tables to greet me. “Jane.” He slid into the bench, facing me. He studied me like he was assessing if I was the same girl he’d left. I was. Sort of.

“Austen, what took you so long? I was afraid you fell into quicksand on your way over here.”

“Worse.” He pushed his hair from his face. “Taylor wanted me to cancel her subscription to Em’s Matchmaker’s online dating site, and I got stuck on the phone with customer service. They tortured me with call-waiting music. Twenty minutes! It took me twenty—no, twenty-two minutes to get a refund! I’m shaking.” He lifted his hands. They were hardly shaking.

That didn’t make me feel any better. “How much did you get back?”

“Fifteen dollars.” He saw the look on my face and broke into a laugh. “It was the principle of the thing! They had her on automatic renewal!”

I snickered. “Okay.” That’s what I liked about him—he didn’t give up. I needed that. “I guess it can pay for lunch. I just met with Dancey.”

He looked tense. “Yeah?”

I reached for his hands, not able to stop from touching him any longer. “And you were right about everything. Taylor is unhappy. Dancey is unhappy. We need to help them.”

“Them? When did this become a
them
thing?” Before I could explain, he shook his head. “No, no, I’m not helping Taylor get away from one jerk to go for a worse one.”

“He’s not a jerk! He’s just misunderstood. We got it all wrong. You told me to find out the truth about him and I did. Dancey was on the rebound.”

“With you?” he asked. I hesitated, and he threw back his head, his eyes meeting the ceiling in exasperation. “I can’t believe this. So you’re not interested in him. Great, but there are easier ways to get rid of a guy. I’m sorry, but I can’t forgive him as easily as you can. He’s on his own on this one.”

“What about Taylor?” I asked. “She’s in love with him. You saw her this morning—she’s willing to sacrifice herself to the wedding gods because she’s so depressed. She doesn’t care if Bigley isn’t the one if she can’t have Dancey.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Well, it must to her, because she’s doing it.”

He studied me. “Even if Dancey was the right guy for her, what makes you think this will work?”

“Because every romantic bone in my body says so. If the guy wants the girl back—he chases after her. It’s how it’s done. He runs after the taxi. He follows her on a plane. He’ll lay down all his money, his need to be right; he sacrifices everything. He’ll die for her!”

His lips turned up, but he bit the smile down. “If he’s dead, he won’t get the girl.”

“Oh yes, he will . . .” I struggled with my words, especially when I saw that he was getting that stubborn look. “Austen, why don’t you help me instead of being such a cynic! Yeah, normal people don’t follow the pages of a romance novel. I get it, but this isn’t my story or yours. This is Ms. Taylor’s. And she doesn’t belong with Bigley. She belongs with Dancey.”

“Can you hear yourself?” he said. “Taylor made her decision. She told us this morning. She’s going through with it, and there’s nothing we can do to change that. This isn’t a book, Jane, this is real life and these are real people. We can’t make these kinds of decisions for other people.”

“The story’s in our hands,” I argued. “We’re Jane and Austen—it’s what we do. We’re the ones who live vicariously through other people’s more exciting lives because we’re too afraid or too cynical to live it ourselves.”

“Whoa! What?”

“There is no way that we are going to end this badly,” I continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “We’re going to have our happy ending.”

He stilled, and I wondered if he was about to declare his feelings or if he even had any for me besides a mild flirtation between jobs. A myriad of emotions passed through his eyes, but instead of sharing any of them with me, he licked his lips. “What’s your plan?”

“Well, first things first.” Taylor and I had a similar problem, and I hoped that it didn’t seem like I was talking about Austen and me instead of our friend, because that would be awkward. I plunged ahead. “Taylor doesn’t think that Dancey loves her. He needs to show that he cares, or she won’t go for him.”

“Okay, and how do we do that?”

“That’s the hard part.” I thought a moment. “A romantic gesture is good—like reliving a special moment that they shared together, or if Dancey repeats something significant back to her that she said to him first—which we can’t help him do because we’re doing this without either of their knowledge.”

“Besides, it’s redundant and unoriginal.”

“It’s called being thoughtful,” I argued.

He readjusted himself in his seat. “What about the usual—turn down the lights, burn some candles, throw around rose petals?”

“This isn’t a wake.” I laughed at his provoked expression. “What if Dancey came in like some kind of white knight to save her . . . somehow?”

“So what do we do?” Austen asked. “Throw her out into the ocean and half drown her and then he has to nurse her back to health?”

“Let’s avoid killing her,” I said.

“We put someone she loves in danger—we throw her cat in a tree so Dancey can save it.”

I giggled a little at his sarcasm. “How about he saves her family from ruin?”

Austen grimaced. “No one can save
them
.”

“Okay, put a hold on the
saving
plan for now. We let Taylor see Bigley for what he is . . . and that Dancey loves her, and then find out who she goes for.”

“How?”

“There’s this lady with the paparazzi—her name is Jennings. Dancey and I agreed to let her take exclusive pics at Taylor’s wedding.”

“Why would you do that?”

I wriggled uncomfortably. “I don’t really want to talk about that right now.” His eyebrows went up, and I rushed hurriedly past that topic. “But the point is that we have the paparazzi on our side. They can get anywhere. She can follow Bigley and take pictures with him flirting with whomever he flirts with—the maid, the bartender, whatever, as long as it breathes. You have a bachelor party, right? You can do it there.”

“Getting pics at a bachelor party is low.”

“It’s all we’ve got.”

“You’re forgetting one thing,” Austen said. “Taylor knows who Bigley is; she forgives his drinking and everything already. You said so yourself—this isn’t about Bigley, this is about Dancey.”

“Then the paparazzi can discover Dancey loves Taylor.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, but I have a few ideas. I’ve got the lyrics to his latest song and a great meet-cute at the airport to work with . . . if I
accidentally
leaked that info to Jennings.”

“Jennings?”

“The reporter.”

“Ah yes, the mysterious reporter,” he muttered.

“And then we compromise them.”

He looked confused. “Besides spy movies, I’m unfamiliar with that phrase. Compromise them?”

“It’s from the Jane Austen era. Basically we put them into a romantic situation and as soon as they give in to their feelings then we catch them in the act and force them to marry. Well, they’d marry in Jane Austen’s time, but in our time . . . Jennings will get her exclusive pics. If Taylor is still willing to take Bigley after what he’s done, he won’t take her! What do you think? The pictures will be out there for the world to see. She will be thrown into Dancey’s arms.”

Austen was silent for a moment. “Have you been compromised?”

My lips tightened. “Not yet.”

He reached for my hand. “Remind me to fix that.”

That threw me off balance. Austen was turning into a romantic, which I liked . . . but it also confused me. He wasn’t the romantic type. “Jane.” His fingers trailed a pattern over my skin. “You realize that this is a horrible plan.”

“Can you think of something better?”

Austen sighed and turned, staring blindly into the lunch crowd. “Taylor would kill us if we did this. She’d slice and dice us and serve us up cold at her wedding breakfast. Besides,” he put his other hand over our entwined ones. “It’s not nice. How would you like it if someone sabotaged your wedding?”

Noticing Colin to the side of us, I shrugged. “Well, it all depends on who I was trying to marry.”

I watched DeBurgy lean over the counter. Colin was busy buying him drinks and getting ignored. “You know,” I said, “Colin can sing a song or two.” Austen looked confused. “We have our distraction,” I said as way of explanation.

Junie plunked two waters at our table and a plate of nachos. We hadn’t ordered them. I would’ve suspected a change of heart, except she looked unfocused; more than unfocused. Her lips trembled, and her face was all red.

“Junie?” Austen turned to her. “Are you all right?”

Junie’s eyes rested on him. “I’m fine.”

She rushed away, and my heart sank. She didn’t like that I was with Austen. He glanced over at me, and I knew he wanted permission to follow her. “She doesn’t look good,” I said. “You—you can go after her if you want.”

He smiled. “Jane, no matter what arch-rivalry you’ve got going with Junie, you’re a good friend to her.” He startled me with a quick kiss before heading after her.

Still feeling the pressure of his lips against mine, I watched Austen approach Junie, my emotions all over the place. He put his hand on her shoulder so that she turned to face him. After talking for a bit, she hung her head and broke down, covering her face with her hands. Austen hugged her. I wanted to believe that there was nothing between them, but the tender way that Austen held her made me suspicious. His hand smoothed her back. And Junie? Well, she clung to him like she’d never let him go.

I gulped, realizing that my own life wasn’t running as smoothly as I wanted. After too long, Austen broke away from her and headed back, his jaw set firmly. He didn’t sit across from me this time, just stood there at my table and glared at nothing. “I’m in.”

“You’re in?” He talked to Junie and just like that, he was going for my plan? He was fuming. My eyes searched her out in the crowd, and I saw that she had returned to polishing the counter, her eyes on the rag in her hand.

Austen gave a hard laugh. “You don’t want me to give an acceptance speech, do you? I’m in. Let’s go sabotage Taylor’s wedding.”

Chapter 24

“Well! Evil to some is always good to others.”

—Jane Austen,
Emma

Pemburkley Hall hopped with music and laughter.
Taylor’s bachelorette party was well underway. The glass wall partitions had been opened to give the party a more airy feel. It let in the night sky with its twinkling stars and fresh ocean breeze. Streamers sprayed over our heads like a big waterfall. Big tissue-wrapped poppies, twisted with the real wildflower, adorned the tables—so far Taylor hadn’t noticed that I’d put them out.

I was in shorts and a T-shirt, looking less-than-festive compared to the other female guests, who were dressed in leis with grass skirts and wraps over swimming suits. They carried drinks with little umbrellas propped merrily inside. The pool had been opened for the occasion. The hot tub bubbled beside it, ready to boil the next occupant lobster-red.

Taylor stood next to the refreshment table near the Bigley women, pointing out the little fish fillets and fried calamari. Her laughter was too forced, her smile too tight. Everything about her convinced me that we were doing the right thing. Austen had reported via text that Dancey had also arrived at the bachelor party at Churchell’s Shack across the way. Taylor planned for him to come to Pemburkley Hall in an hour to sing. Austen and I were going to make sure that we made it a private concert.

Picking up my phone, I texted Austen.

ME: TAYLOR IS BY HERSELF. CAN I MAKE MY MOVE?

Austen didn’t answer back right away. Two bites of ice cream and three pretzels later, my phone vibrated.

AUSTEN: NOT YET. THE TARGET HASN’T TAKEN THE BAIT.

That meant that Bigley wasn’t flirting with any of the waitresses at the party. Once he did, Jennings would be sure to get the appropriate photos. It was low, but we had to save Taylor from herself.

I popped a cashew into my mouth, chewing absently. Besides our mission to stop this wedding, I had a lot on my mind—mostly Austen. After talking to Junie, he had acted differently. Maybe I was imagining their deep connection, but did it matter? Austen was giving the resort away to Colin so he could leave us all behind. I could try to chase Austen across the country, but what if that wasn’t what he wanted?

Taylor played with the umbrella in her drink, dunking it and biting on the end of the toothpick. Her nails were bitten down to a jagged edge. The beautician would fix that tomorrow, put concealer under her eyes to cover the dark shadows, apply a little more color to her pale cheeks. If we didn’t help her, Taylor would be completely done up so that no one would see the pain beneath all her make-up.

I texted Austen one-handed.

ME: IF THE TARGET DOESN’T TAKE THE BAIT, I’LL GO PLAY BAIT. I’M SERIOUS!

This time my phone rang—apparently the threat meant a call to action. I answered it. “Austen?”

“Absolutely not.”

I smiled—at least he was protective. “It probably wouldn’t work anyway,” I said. “He knows me and he hasn’t tried anything yet. I’m not his type.”

“Bigley’s choosing to play the good guy at his own bachelor party.” Austen grunted out his annoyance. “It’s probably because, uh . . . the waitresses here are all over fifty.”

I groaned. Taylor might love Dancey, and he might love her back, but neither would be willing to hurt Bigley if he wasn’t uncovered as the player that he was. I readjusted the phone against my ear. “I’m thinking Taylor might’ve had something to do with hiring them.”

Austen gave a little laugh. “The bachelor party’s a bust. I don’t even see Crawley—he’s wandered off somewhere.”

My neck prickled and I turned to make sure he wasn’t standing behind me. He was the last thing I wanted to deal with tonight.

“I see Dancey,” Austen said. “I’m going to send him to the rendezvous spot, all right? You just find a reason to get Taylor to leave the party.”

I took the challenge and clicked off the phone. Taylor was talking with her bridesmaids by the hot tub. The ladies dangled their matching manicured feet into the water. Taylor sat down and edged her legs in with theirs. Bertie sat a head taller than the group, her hand clutched tightly to her muff of a dog. I was afraid of getting close just because she’d stuff the rat-bear in my hands. Ann-Marie wasn’t nearby to take the brunt.

Bella looked glorious, as usual, in her florescent-pink bathing suit. She swung her mane of shining hair against her back. Her lips were set in a pout that hadn’t been there at the club yesterday. Mary sniffed but didn’t have a tissue. It was dangerous to get close to any of them, but I had a mission to accomplish.

“Are you talking about my car?” I overheard Bertie ask as I walked closer. “Oh, please. It was a gift. My father has no sense. It’s only a Chrysler Mercedes knockoff. All looks and no drive.”

“Your father spoils you,” Taylor said.

Bertie tittered. “You can’t expect my husband to do it all. He can’t tie his own shoelaces without tripping.”

Taylor didn’t look amused. “It’s surprising you even got married if you feel that way about him, Bertie.”

Bertie thrust her finger out so that her diamond glittered under the lights. “All men are the same, honey. You give them what they want and they give you
everything
you want.”

Mary stared enviously at Bertie’s ring. “Your husband does make a lot of money.”

“Please,” Bertie said, “not enough for me.”

“Good thing you love him so much,” Taylor said pointedly.

“And you know so much about love, Taylor?” Bertie narrowed her eyes at her. “Chuck doesn’t give you many gifts. But Dancey . . . he’ll perform for your party. I didn’t see that one coming. Does he have a crush on you?”

“That was Jane’s doing,” Taylor said.

I froze by the table next to them, not sure if I wanted to walk in on this.

“Jane?” Bertie’s lips curled in distaste. “What does any man see in her?”

“Oh no, you don’t,” Bella snapped—the beautiful girl dripped with venom. “No more talking about Jane—she’s not all that, you know. She can’t have all the guys.”

Taylor blinked in confusion. “What guys?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She crossed her arms. “No one can steal a man from me, especially some girl who could stand to lose a few pounds.”

I was shocked that I had turned into the most unpopular girl at the party. All three sets of eyes belonging to Taylor’s bridesmaids turned to dissect me at the table in a decidedly unfriendly gaze. Before I could defend my weight as curvaceous, Bertie’s dog was in my hands. Mary followed up with a medical order. Bella ignored me, with her cute nose pointed in the air.

“Taylor . . .” I managed to find her in the group, trying to ignore the stinging insults. “Dancey has something he wants to tell you—I think he wants to iron out the details for the performance tonight.”

Taylor reddened when she saw me, but she didn’t move her legs from the hot tub. She gulped a few times. “He’s done this before in front of much bigger audiences. I think he’ll be fine.”

“He won’t sing unless you talk to him—that’s what he said.”

Her mouth gaped open. “Are you serious?” She jerked angrily from the hot tub, her legs dripping across the patio. “Where is he?”

“By the Longburn Lagoon.” Or he very soon would be.

“What? What is he doing there?”

“I don’t know. He said to wait for him while he gathers his things.”

“Oh, honestly.” She wrapped a towel around her legs, her black hair curling against her neck. Her green eyes shone especially bright; I hoped with excitement. “I’ll be back.” She shoved her bare feet into her flip-flops and set off at a brisk pace.

The puppy licked my chin. Before I could text Austen that Taylor was on her way, Bertie’s voice stopped me. “You might have Taylor fooled, but none of us are.”

I glanced over at her distractedly. “What?”

Taylor’s bridesmaids all glared at me. “You’re trying to sabotage this,” Bertie accused. “Aren’t you?”

I stiffened, trying to pull out her meaning before I gave anything away. “Taylor’s bachelorette party?”

“You’re trying to sabotage Taylor’s wedding. Don’t pretend that you don’t have something for Dancey. This is Taylor’s special occasion, and you’re trying to steal all the attention from her.”

I glared. “Don’t I have to lose a few pounds for that?”

Bella paled and refused to meet my eyes.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Mary looked nervous and placed a hand on the skinnier lady’s arm. “Now, Bertie, Jane would never go for Dancey. He’s a big rock star and she’s just a party planner.”

“Um, thanks for that, Mary,” I said, telling myself that she meant well. “You see? So none of you have anything to worry about. I’m only doing my job, girls. I think we can all agree that we want Taylor to be happy for her wedding.”

Bertie gave me a slow, mocking smile. “Then I suggest you get out of her life.”

That was enough. My hands curled into fists. “And leave her to a vulture like you? I don’t think so.” I turned on my heel to put some distance between us to stop myself from doing something I regretted when I heard the loud splashing that signaled Bertie was pulling from the tub to come after me. If I walked away now, it would only look like I was running away from a twig in a bikini. Bella was right. I was a big girl—at least compared to the paper-doll Bertie. Maybe I’d sit on her. I swung around to face her.

“After everything Taylor has done for North Abbey?” Bertie growled out. Her knobby fingers dug into my arm. “It must sting to leave all her hard work behind for you to ruin it all.”

“I’ve worked to get where I am, unlike some people.” I peeled her hands away. “I think North Abbey will be fine. In fact, once you’re gone, we’ll all be very, very happy.”

“That’s until I get you fired.”

“I’m pretty sure that I’d still be happier than any of you. Look at you, glaring and gossiping—so bored of life. How sad for you; your money and looks got you nowhere.”

Mary looked confused. “What is she saying?”

“I don’t know why Taylor puts up with you,” Bertie sputtered. “She’s always been a horrible judge of character.”

“You can say that again,” I said. “By the way, I forgot to tell you. Your daddy sent your adult diapers with your weekly check. We put them on your bed with your mint that you’re going to throw up later tonight.”

I pushed away from her to make good my escape, but now my thoughts were all over the place. That had been an awful, unprofessional thing to say, and I hunched guiltily. I was doing all sorts of crazy things tonight, and I was due for a fall. I did have Taylor’s best interests in mind, didn’t I? Depending on how the cards played in the next few hours, I was about to do the nicest or jerkiest thing that I had ever done in my life . . . if this worked. Everything centered around “if.”
If
Taylor was in love with Dancey,
if
he loved her back,
if
love was enough to bring them together,
if
Bigley was as big of a lowlife as we thought he was,
if
my romantic ideals were right. If. If. If.

Suddenly all of this seemed much bigger than me. A yipping in my hands made me aware that I had also taken off with Bertie’s dog. Sighing, I tried to find Bertie. I should probably apologize too, but she had stormed off, no doubt to tattle on me to anyone who would listen.

Swinging back around, I ran into Crawley. I backpedaled several steps. He held a microphone. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m proving I’m serious about you.”

“No, no, no, you don’t want to do that.”

Laughing, with his beautiful eyes crinkled up at the sides, Crawley put the mic to his mouth. Lights and music followed the motion. I turned and saw Ann-Marie by the sound system. She stuck her thumb up at me.

Crawley started to sing a rocked-out version of “Poppies,” of all the songs to sing. Dancey had better not hear or he’d leave the meeting spot we’d arranged for Taylor and come here to jerk the mic from his best friend’s brother. The women shrieked out happily and cheered.

I texted an SOS to Austen.

ME: WHAT DO I DO? CRAWLEY’S SERENADING ME!

AUSTEN: MUST BE TRUE LOVE. GO FOR HIM.

I didn’t appreciate his sarcasm. To the side of me, Crawley’s mother clapped and sang along. Bigley’s mother covered her ears. Squaring my shoulders, I tried to sneak away.

Before I could get too far, Freddy hissed into my ear. “I play video games, huh?” I cringed as I came face to face with our resident baggage handler. All Freddy’s bored looks had been wiped from his face, leaving only his accusing glare. “Thanks for smearing my name; now Bella won’t look at me. These manly hands have never touched a controller in my life.”

“Never?” I asked. “You’re really missing out.”

“Real funny, Jane. Maybe I’ll return the favor. Everyone knows that you have it bad for Austen.”

“So does Austen,” I tried to sound flippant. “What are you going to do, tell him?”

He smiled wickedly. “I heard a few things about you.”

Now he had my attention. The best thing to do was to grovel for mercy. “I’m sorry,” I said, but then looking at Bella’s upturned face while she watched Crawley from the crowd, I knew I didn’t feel sorry at all. “Did I ruin your chance to mess with another girl’s head?”

“Not at all. I’ll just mess with yours now.”

Bertie’s puppy shifted in my arms, and I ran my fingers over her furry ears. “Hey, let’s be friends. Take a puppy. We’ll call it good.”

Freddy left me without saying another word. I was a little worried, despite my joking. The problem with having dirty laundry out there was that enemies were more than happy to air it.

Crawley finished up his song and released the mic to Ann-Marie’s waiting hands. He strode towards me. More music rushed through the speakers to replace his singing. At least we weren’t left in awkward silence.

“Great job, Crawley,” I said.

“Harry,” he corrected. “You always call me by my last name, Jane. We’re not football players.”

The closer he got to me, the farther I held Bertie’s puppy out between us. Unfortunately the thing was too small to do much good. Crawley looked down at it. “Wait, is that Pudgy?”