Page 23 of A Certain Appeal
“So? It’s nice knowing someone likes you. And I know he likes me. He brought me flowers.” Jane points to the generous arrangement of white orchids Charles bought on our way in.
“They are lovely.” I scoot my chair closer, resting my elbows beside him on the mattress.
“I probably wouldn’t have boughthimflowers.” His brow furrows. “I’d have wanted to but been afraid I was coming on too strong. I would have askedyoufor advice and you’d have told me to hold off, too. We’re too guarded, Ben. We let each other be too guarded.”
I prop my head up on my hand, a coil of anxiety twisting in my sternum. “Is this the head trauma talking?”
“Or the drugs. Wearetoo cautious, though. At least I am. If you hadn’t said anything last weekend, I never even would have sung Nina. Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten to know Charles at all.”
I study him. His brows are still low, eyes sharp despite the fog of medication.
“Promise me you’ll talk to Andrea about the design stuff. For Meryton.” He holds up his hand, warding off the protest I almost formed. “You don’t want me talking to Charles about it and I won’t. But you should talk to Andrea. You’ve let what happened hold you back for too long. Like I have, because of Marcus.”
I blink in surprise. Jane and I have an unspoken agreement to maintain a polite distance from one another’s major traumas, and he’s just referenced both of them in a single breath. We talked around my past after brunch with Andrea, butMarcus? We don’t even say his name. It’s why he gave me the bedroom at our apartment: it had been theirs, and Jane didn’t want anything to do with a space they’d shared so intimately.
Jane lifts his chin and points to himself. “Right? Big stuff.” He grips my hand. “You heard the doctor today. A few more inches in either direction, and that thing could have killed me, Ben. It’s crazy I only got clipped.” He sighs. “There’s enough out there that can actually take you out. No point in hiding from the things that will only hurt your heart.”
“Dance like nobody’s watching,” I say, trying to parse out how much of this he’s going to remember in the morning. “Live like a giant piece of metal could rust free of its bolts and crush your skull tomorrow. That’s inspirational. It’d be a lot to cross-stitch, but I think it would look great next to the front door. We can commission Ming.”
He smacks my arm. “Don’t make fun. I’m being wise.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Does Ming even cross-stitch?”
“I’ll ask.” I squeeze his hand, and he chuckles.
I lay my head on my arms. He has a point, and I should focus on it. Instead, I find myself tracing along the fingers of my right hand,following the path Darcy made with the towelette, and thinking about the way he looked at me earlier.What were you looking for, Will Darcy?
“Hey.” Jane nudges me. “Seriously. Promise you’ll talk to Andrea about the design plans.” His voice is heavy with sleep and pharmaceuticals.
“I will.” I kiss his hand. He smiles, closing his eyes. “Promise.”
CHAPTER
7
I adjust the microphone of my headset. “You’re sure you’re going to be okay?”
“Bennet, I’m fine,” Jane says, his voice cracking over the receiver. He came home from the hospital yesterday, turning in early after a quiet afternoon of hanging around the apartment with Charles. He was still sleeping when I left for work this morning. While I set his alarm with plenty of time before the follow-up with his doctor, I still wanted to check in.
I settle against the break room counter. “I’m sorry I can’t go with you. Toby’s figured out that his fun little business venture is officially a bicoastal operation. He’s kind of wigging.”
This is mostly true, but I don’t want to go into detail, lest Jane feel guilty for having the audacity to get bludgeoned. I came in yesterday to a deluge of emails and an overwhelmed boss, whom I directed totake lunch out of the office today so he could get a moment to breathe. I won’t be able to get in a makeup meeting at Pemberley, which is a bummer, but they were understanding about my “family emergency.” Between the notes I sent in and my commitment to getting there early Saturday, everything should be fine.
“Don’t worry,” Jane insists. “Charles will be here in a few minutes. He’s offered to set up a meeting with his lawyer to see if there’s any grounds for a lawsuit. Negligence, or something?”
“Smart.” I smile. “And generous. Think he’s gotten Florence Nightingale syndrome?”
“Ben!” he scolds.
“I’m kidding! Jeez, it’s like you’ve had a recent head trauma or something.”
I turn to open the cabinet above the espresso machine for coffee beans. Toby should return in the next few minutes, and I figure he’ll appreciate a dose of caffeine.
The doorbell buzzes in the background of my connection with Jane, and I hear him take in a sharp breath. “That’s Charles!” he says with a smile I can hear. “I’m off. See you at eight?”
“You’re sure you’re up for it?”
