The Boss and the Plain Jayne Bride Page 13

  “A lot of work piled up while you were gone.”

  He made a face. “And I haven’t done any of it. You know it’s one thing to sign new models, but it’s another to find work for them. I’ve had to promise Sasha and Sandor in return for getting some of these new girls booked.”

  Rubbing his shoulder, he added, “Signing new talent is great, but what we need are a couple of stars to attract attention to us. Brynn and Darnia are just about to make supermodel status. If we get them, our expansion will jump ahead of schedule and if we don’t, word will get around about why we didn’t and...” He trailed off with a tired gesture.

  He didn’t have to spell it out. The agency needed to be a certain size to support the office space and personnel—including Jayne.

  “Anyway, let’s just say their visit this week is very important.” He smiled at her. “I’m counting on you.”

  Jayne swallowed and gazed into his blue eyes. “I won’t let you down.”

  The morning of Brynn and Darnia’s visit, Jayne stepped on her scales and saw another three-pound loss, and she wasn’t even standing on the edges.

  She would have given back one of those pounds for another hour’s sleep, but she needed to spend extra time on her hair and makeup today.

  She’d gone shopping with Sylvia last night and had splurged on an outfit from one of the boutiques near the agency. Sylvia had had to talk her into the longsleeved silky shirt in cream with a whimsical cigarsand-smoke-curls print, and a short tobacco brown skirt because Jayne didn’t think it was an appropriate outfit for work. It was trendy, but Jayne felt funny without her customary jacket. Still, if ever there was a day to look trendy, this was it.

  She came in the front door so she could see Micky’s reaction.

  It was immediate and gratifying. “Jayne! Ooh, I’ve been waiting for that outfit to go on sale. Did it?”

  Jayne shook her head.

  “Oh, wow.” Micky was silent a moment, then said virtuously, “Well, it’s not in my budget.”

  “It’s not in mine, either,” Jayne confessed. “I’m paying for it out of savings.”

  “You bought it ’cause Brynn and Darnia are coming in today.”

  Jayne nodded, still not convinced she should be without her customary suit.

  “I just put on black.” Micky was wearing a sleeveless turtleneck and short skirt. “That always works when you don’t have anything else.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Jayne said as voices sounded at the glass doors behind them. “It’s easier on the budget.”

  She and Micky exchanged smiles, then Jayne turned, seeing Garrett first and, for a split second, a reflection of herself, or rather the way she’d look if all her dreams came true.

  For that one instant, Jayne was tall and so thin she could eat a dozen orders of fettuccine Alfredo and not notice it. Her hair was long and straight and shot with golden streaks. Her cheekbones cast shadows and her full lips kept her mouth in a sensual pout. Miles of leg extended below her skirt.

  Then Garrett pushed the door open and her reflection and another woman entered the reception area.

  Jayne’s fantasy turned into a nightmare. No woman wanted to come face-to-face with someone attired in an identical outfit. It was a thousand times worse when the other woman was three feet taller and a hundred pounds thinner.

  She should have just worn black, she thought as Garrett led the models closer. A black suit.

  “Hey, another Scarcella admirer!” said the model in Jayne’s outfit. Jayne recognized her as Brynn. “Don’t you just love his stuff?”

  Jayne nodded wordlessly and avoided Garrett’s eyes.

  “Oh, I know,” said the other model, who would have to be Darnia. “I have maybe twenty of his shirts. I buy them for the buttons.”

  Jayne had liked the buttons, which were shaped like little gold cigars, herself.

  Darnia cocked her hip to one side in a casual pose Jayne envied, but knew better than to copy. “You know that on the grandfather clock shirt I’ve got, the hands on the buttons actually move?”

  “Really? Cool,” Brynn said.

  Garrett stopped the button discussion before Jayne had to embarrass herself by admitting that she hadn’t known weird prints and matching buttons were a Scarcella trademark. Actually she hadn’t even known who Scarcella was until she’d gone on her fashion magazine reading binge.

  “Jayne.” Garrett touched her lightly on the arm. “This is Brynn Francis and Darnia Vanderhoff.” He turned to the models. “Jayne is our accounting goddess.”

  Jayne couldn’t even muster a smile at the joke.

  “You’re the one everybody’s talking about!” Brynn said, looking surprised, but pleased.

  “I am?” Jayne asked.

  Darnia nodded. “Sasha claims you’re a numbers genius.”

  “Well, I—”

  “She is,” Micky chimed in. “She helped me with my budget and when we get paid Friday, I’m going to have money left over for the first time. I was just wasting so much. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “And she doesn’t get paid extra for saying that,” Garrett joked.

  Everyone laughed, and Jayne joined in, though she didn’t feel like laughing.

  What must Garrett be thinking of her? She’d made a horrible faux pas. She didn’t look anything like the accountant he’d hired. Who’d want to trust money to a woman who spent outrageous amounts on shirts with cigar buttons?

  Apparently other women who spent outrageous amounts on clothes. “Well, I want to go first,” Brynn said. “I can tell that Jayne and I are on the same wavelength.”

  Jayne managed a smile, determined to reassure Garrett by acting as accountantlike as possible. “My office is this way. I have a financial profile form that I’d like for you both to fill out. Until I study it, I can only give you an overview of how we might structure your finances.” She risked a look at him and was disturbed to see a blankly stunned expression on his face. She was going to have some serious fence mending to do after meeting with the models.

  “I also want you to know that I’m not an investment specialist, but I know of a couple I’ve worked with before. They both have young children so they freelance out of their homes.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Brynn said.

  Darnia nodded and followed Jayne to her office.

  Garrett stood staring after them, barely aware of the gentle warble of the telephone and the other background noises in the agency. He heard laughter and guessed that they’d seen the name plaque on Jayne’s door.

  Jayne.

  Jayne.

  Garrett felt as if he’d had the wind knocked out of him. She was even more brilliant than he’d realized. Knowing how crucial signing Darnia and Brynn were to the success of Venus’s expansion, she’d studied them, then dressed in their favorite designer. It had been pure serendipity that she and Brynn had been dressed alike, but not that they were wearing the same designer. That had been because Jayne had done her homework.

  The two models had immediately accepted her and Garrett knew without a doubt that if they signed with his agency, no, when they signed, it would be because of Jayne.

  He’d horribly misjudged her at lunch the other day and instead of helping her learn more about the fashion industry, he’d barely responded to her conversation. Of course she’d want to hear the latest news, since that’s what Brynn and Darnia would know. She could talk to them about their world, then draw them into hers.

  George Windom could never have accomplished that. He’d done them a favor by leaving and as far as Garrett was concerned, he could keep the money as long as he didn’t come back. The painting he’d left behind was worth nearly as much as he’d embezzled and Garrett figured George knew it.

  “Garrett? Do you need something?” Micky eyed him curiously.

  “No...I...” I need someone. Jayne.

  It was a defining moment. Micky’s question wasn’t supposed to be profound, but it crystallized Garrett’s feelings. In that m
oment, he knew that Jayne was the woman for him.

  He’d managed to find the one woman whom he could talk to about anything, a woman who could bridge both worlds the way he did, a woman who could talk fashion when she had to and finance when she needed to.

  The woman he could imagine spending the rest of his life with.

  “Garrett?” Micky looked concerned. “You aren’t worried about Jayne, are you?”

  “No.” He smiled—grinned actually. “Jayne is...a goddess.”

  “I am just so jazzed about all this,” Darnia said as Jayne saw her to the door. “Thanks, Jayne!” She waggled her fingers and strutted off down the hall.

  Jayne closed her door and leaned her head against it. She’d only eaten half a piece of toast and three strawberries for breakfast. She thought her meeting with Darnia and Brynn had gone well, but she was feeling a little light-headed after three hours of number crunching.

  She turned around to go back to her desk and see if she’d hidden any contraband food in it when she spotted Darnia’s leather portfolio still propped on the floor against the desk. She grabbed it and hurried down the hall to catch her.

  “I know, I liked her, too. And she doesn’t look anything close to the way Sandor described her.” Brynn was speaking.

  Jayne slid to a halt, guessing who Sandor had been describing.

  “I mean, she’s wearing the same thing I am. I hardly call Scarcella hideous fashion.”

  “I don’t know what his problem is,” Micky said, and Jayne figured they were all standing by the receptionist’s desk.

  “He can be such a jerk sometimes,” Darnia agreed. “I can’t believe he’s Garrett’s brother.”

  Jayne went back to her office. She’d return the portfolio in a few minutes.

  She wasn’t particularly upset about Sandor saying unflattering things about her—she’d already known she wasn’t among his favorite people at the moment. But Darnia and Brynn hadn’t said anything about her accounting abilities, only the way she looked.

  She was still leaning against the edge of her desk thinking about what she’d heard when Garrett appeared in the doorway. He stood there for a moment just looking at her, then advanced purposefully into the room.

  “You’re incredible,” he said when he stopped right in front of her. “All that talk about clothes and models...you knew how important it was for Brynn and Darnia to sign with us. Well, they just signed and it was all due to you.”

  Then he lowered his head and kissed her full on the lips. Right in her office. Just the way she’d fantasized. He filled his kiss with all the tenderness and restrained passion she could have wished for.

  So where was her answering passion? Why wasn’t she ecstatically happy?

  Why wasn’t she kissing him back?

  That must be the reason. Jayne linked her arms around his neck and tried to recapture the magic of their kiss in the parking lot.

  She remembered it now, in vivid detail, remembered the feel of his arms, the taste of his mouth and...

  It wasn’t the same.

  She wanted it to be the same. Desperately.

  “Jayne,” he murmured as though he’d found her after a long search. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  He kissed her once more, hard and quick, before bending to pick up the portfolio. “Darnia forgot this and I’m supposed to be retrieving it.”

  “Oh, I...Garrett...”

  He touched a finger to her lips. “We’ll talk later.”

  Later turned into days later. Once word got out that Darnia and Brynn had left their old agency to sign with Venus, Garrett was inundated with inquiries.

  Jayne found herself meeting with a steady stream of models. Not all of them signed with the agency, but she developed a fifteen-minute overview of what her services would be if the model signed with Venus, and it proved to be a successful sales tool.

  Jayne, herself, spent more and more money on beauty treatments and clothes. She was beginning to resent the investment of time and money, but Garrett’s attention made it all worthwhile.

  Except... she didn’t much like being judged on her appearance instead of her abilities. Even Sandor, who had returned with Garrett’s family, accepted her financial strictures now when he hadn’t before. As for working with the models, they could throw on a T-shirt and jeans and crawl out of bed looking better than Jayne did after two hours of primping each morning.

  And today—today was the worst. Her weight hadn’t budged since her meeting with Brynn and Darnia. Jayne was hungry and cranky and then Sylvia had come to visit.

  Actually, Jayne knew she’d come to see why Sandor hadn’t called her, but the reason didn’t matter. Jayne was glad to see her anyway.

  Until she went out to the reception area to meet Sylvia and saw her talking with Micky. In the background, were modeling hopefuls gathered for the Thursday open house screening.

  Sylvia, newly slender and with her hair in a short spiky cut, looked exactly like one of them.

  Jayne would never look exactly like one of them, and knew it, but the reality hit home in a way it hadn’t before.

  Her inner cry of anguish was drowned out by her stomach growling.

  And things went downhill from there.

  “Jayne!” she heard Garrett call for her.

  “I’m out by Micky’s desk,” she answered.

  Garrett came into the reception area looking enormously pleased. “Guess what?”

  Jayne shook her head and to her surprise, Garrett grabbed her by the waist and twirled her around in front of everyone. “We’ve been asked to sponsor a modeling contest!”

  “I thought you hated modeling contests,” Jayne said, trying to regain her balance after he set her back down.

  “They can be a pain, but the Houston Fashion Council is supplying the clothes. We’ll run just the contest and fashion show part. The publicity will be phenomenal!”

  “Oh, wow,” Micky said. “Can I enter?”

  Garrett seemed to remember where he was, but he still kept an arm around Jayne.

  She was glad Sylvia was there to see it.

  Garrett nodded a hello to her, then answered Micky’s question. “It’s a ‘new faces’ type of contest. First prize will be a contract with us, of course.” He leveled a look at Micky. “You already have one.”

  She looked wistful, but didn’t say anything more.

  Garrett then said casually to Sylvia, “You should think about entering.”

  Sylvia?

  Sylvia shared her surprise. “Me?”

  “Yes. You’ve got that Russian gamine look that’s going to be hot next season.”

  “Russian gamine?” Sylvia looked far too pleased.

  Jayne tried to smile and managed one, not that anyone was looking at her.

  “Yes, the way your eyes tilt at the corners and the dark hair.”

  Jayne’s own eyes widened. Except for her eyes, Sylvia suddenly looked a lot like Sasha.

  “I’m not too old?” she asked.

  “For print work, perhaps, but there’s a lot of local runway work. Think about it,” Garrett advised.

  “Well, yeah, sure. What do I do?”

  “Fill out an entry form, which we don’t have yet. Micky, would you make a note...?” Garrett smiled down at Jayne. “Things are going to get crazy around here.”

  “I thought they already were,” she said lightly.

  “I mean really crazy.”

  There was one thing he wouldn’t have to worry about, Jayne vowed. She may not be model material, but she was a darn good accountant.

  It was time she started acting like one.

  CHAPTER TEN

  JAYNE didn’t want to be a model, really she didn’t. And she wasn’t jealous of Sylvia, really she wasn’t. It was just that she was feeling...left out.

  Preparations for the modeling contest consumed every spare moment of everyone else’s time, and much of that time was spent at the Galleria Hotel where the fashion show was bein
g held. The contest was a Houston Fashion Council annual event, with only the sponsoring agency changing from year to year. Entry fees covered only part of the costs. Venus, Inc. was expected to cover the rest. And it was Jayne’s job to figure out how they would manage that. So while the entire Charles family met with caterers, hotel event coordinators, modeling hopefuls, florists and printers, Jayne sat in lonely splendor in the plushly decorated office of her predecessor and performed triage on the bank account.

  The numbers weren’t hopeful, no matter how she added them up. She called her friend, Elaine, at the bank to sound her out about a loan. Elaine’s voice had lost the friendliness it had held prior to Jayne asking her for so many favors. “Venus has no collateral. They don’t meet acceptable risk criteria.”

  “They may not have concrete collateral, but the publicity from the contest will result in more bookings, which will generate more income,” Jayne protested.

  “Undercapitalization will doom their recovery.” Elaine didn’t even pretend to think it over. “Sorry, Jayne.”

  Jayne hung up the phone and held her head in her hands. If Elaine wouldn’t even try, then there was no point in contacting anyone else. The phone rang while she sat there. Jayne stared at it—at the custom wood and brass telephone that George Windom had ordered for himself. She was tempted not to answer, since she suspected it was Garrett. She was right.

  “Hi.” His voice sounded tired. “Have you got those deposit checks ready for me yet?”

  “Garrett...” Jayne exhaled, trying to find words to tell him he couldn’t afford to sponsor the contest. For days she’d heard about what a fabulous opportunity the contest was and how good for business it was going to be. The expenses were already over budget.

  “Aw, come on, Jayne.” His voice was a rough whisper. “You can find the money for me, can’t you?”

  Jayne swiveled in her chair so she wouldn’t have to look at the telephone. “Garrett, you can meet the payroll and pay the rent, or you can sponsor the contest.”

  “What about the entry fees?”

  “Revenues from them aren’t enough yet and you’ve had substantial printing and mailing costs, not to mention buying airplane tickets for the celebrity judges.”