Best Of Makeovers Bundle Part 82

"I thought it would make everything easier, but instead it made everything harder. It complicated work and it completely mucked up my personal life."

As briefly as she could, she explained about Reid. And about his mistaken impression that he was in love with her.

"I see," Dorothea said. "And how do you feel about him?"

She sank her head into her palms and finally admitted aloud, "I think I'm falling in love with him."

Dorothea's expression brightened. "Well, that's just-" then she noticed the bleak look Jane sent her "-wonderful," Dorothea finished lamely.

"No, it's not wonderful."

"So I gather." Dorothea pursed her lips. "Why exactly isn't it wonderful that the man you think you love loves you in return?"

"Oh, he thinks Sasha is great. Can't keep his hands off of her."

"I'm not sure I follow."

Jane stood. "He thinks he's falling in love with Sasha. But I'm not Sasha, I'm Jane. And I'm tired of being Sasha."

"I think I'm confused."

"You're not the only one."

"You told me," Dorothea pointed out, "that he recognized you as Jane."

"He did. I mean, he does. He knows I'm Jane. But he doesn't know the real Jane. The whole time we've been dating, I've acted like Sasha. Confident and s.e.xy."

"So?"

"So that's the w-woman he thinks he's falling in love with. That's the woman he thinks I am. But that's not the real me. That's just an illusion. And I'm tired of maintaining it."

"Have you talked about this with your friend Keegan?"

"Yes." And for once his advice had been good, if not particularly helpful.

"And what did he have to say about it?"

"He said I deserved to be with someone who loved me as I really am."

Dorothea nodded. "That's good advice."

"Or, it would be if I knew who that was."

A new cat in a nearby cage pawed at her through the bars of its door, so she absently rubbed its forehead as she spoke. "I don't w-want to be in a relations.h.i.+p where I have to work this hard. I want to be able to relax and just be myself. And Reid accused me of being afraid of taking risks. He said I was afraid the reality wouldn't live up to the fantasy."

Dorothea studied her for a moment. "Let me ask you something. What exactly do you mean by 'be yourself'? Is this-" she gestured to Jane "-who you think you really are?"

"That's just it. I'm not sure I know anymore."

"Then how can you be sure he isn't in love with the woman you are?"

Dorothea rested her hands on Jane's shoulders. "So you admit that the real you is neither Sasha nor Plain Jane Demeo, but rather someone in between?"

Jane begrudgingly nodded. "I'll admit I look different, but that doesn't mean I am. Hair gel and a good foundation don't make me a better person."

"I never said different was better. Besides, they may not make you a different person, but they are signs of how much you've grown. You've always been afraid of being the center of attention. You've hidden behind bulky clothes and a nondescript hairstyle because you wanted people to ignore you. You've hidden behind your stutter, too."

Jane frowned, more than a little unnerved by how accurate that sounded. "So?"

"So, clearly you no longer need to hide behind those things. Today when you walked in, I saw a confident, beautiful woman who's comfortable with who she is." Dorothea's smile broadened. "Have you considered the possibility that your Mr. Forester really is in love with the woman you've become?"

Dorothea's words haunted Jane long into the night. She lay awake, staring at the ceiling, remembering the conversation. It was a nice fantasy, imagining she could be herself and have the guy of her dreams.

A little too nice for Jane to ever really believe it was possible. Reid had been the stuff of fantasies for too long.

And yet...her fantasies weren't really about Reid the man. They were about Reid the illusion. The man she'd imagined him being, not the man he really was.

In many ways, the man she'd been fantasizing about was no more real than her Sasha. He was the das.h.i.+ng, handsome businessman. Reid was all those things, but he was so much more, as well. He was funny and thoughtful. Lonely, now that his family was gone. And maybe even a little lost sometimes.

He had depths she'd never imagined in her s.e.xual fantasies. As much as she'd tried to keep a handle on her emotions, she still very much wanted to explore all those parts of him she'd never imagined he had.

She didn't want to give up on the fantasy of being in love with Reid. She wanted the fantasy to be reality. But would it work?

Somehow, in the past few weeks, everything in her life had gotten helplessly out of whack. As a result, her psyche was a muddled mess. It was as if she needed feng shui for her emotions.

She needed to find balance. Balance between her personal life and her professional life. Balance between Sasha and Jane. Balance between her creativity and her pa.s.sion.

That thought sent her bolt upright in bed. For a moment, she stared into the darkness, listening to the hum of her air conditioner, watching the shadows of the trees outside her bedroom window, waiting for the images flas.h.i.+ng through her mind to coalesce. When they did, she flipped on her lamp and reached for the notepad.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

SHE HAD asked for time, so Reid tried to give it to her.

He hadn't called her at home. Hadn't gone by the animal shelter. Hadn't even skulked around her desk at work. But devoting so much time and energy into staying away from Jane was slowly driving him crazy.

It frustrated the h.e.l.l out of him knowing her team was trying to throw together a kicka.s.s ad for Tres Bien and there was nothing he could do to help. But it was ten times more frustrating knowing she was out there deciding the fate of their relations.h.i.+p.

Jane held his entire life-both work and personal-in her delicate little hands. And there wasn't a d.a.m.n thing he could do about it. Except trust that her brilliance would pull the company through, and hope that she'd trust him enough to let him into her heart.

Still, the waiting was just about killing him.

Which was why he was so relieved to see her at his office door early Friday morning. She knocked on the door frame just before eight.

His heart tightened at the sight of her. She was dressed simply, in jeans and a knit s.h.i.+rt. The outfit emphasized her long legs and her generous curves. Her hair fell in layers around her face, it, too, simple and subdued. There was nothing plain or frumpy about her, nothing vamped up or overs.e.xed. She was neither Plain Jane Demeo nor Sasha, but the woman he'd known all along she was inside.

As she crossed his office, he stood, rounding the corner of the desk to meet her halfway. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss her. The three days that had pa.s.sed since he'd last held her had been too long.

But before he reached her, she held out a black portfolio.

He looked at it, then back at her, for an instant forgetting the ad she'd been working on.

She pushed the portfolio into his hands. "The Tres Bien ad."

Finally, he took it from her. As he reached for the latch, she stopped him.

"It's good." She b.u.mped up her chin and met his gaze fully, as if daring him to argue with her.

He felt a surge of pride. Just a few weeks ago, he'd practically had to shove bamboo shoots under her fingernails to get her to admit her work was good.

"I'm sure it is." He tossed the portfolio onto his desk. "What about us?"

She didn't meet his gaze, but shoved her hands into her back pockets and seemed to be studying his shoes. "Just look at the ad."

Then, with a sigh, he unzipped the portfolio and flipped it open. Like her ad for Butler, the drawings were just rough sketches done in pencil.

The first was of a woman dressed in lingerie. The drawing showed her standing before a mirror, her hands at her hair as if she were styling it. Her robe draped off her shoulder to reveal a bra strap and parted at her legs to show off garters and stockings. On her feet she wore high-heeled slippers, the kind with feathers across the top. The tagline read: "Sure, it's great to be a s.e.x G.o.ddess."

He chuckled. Even with the cartoon sketches, the woman in the fancy lingerie was the cla.s.sic image of the Tres Bien model. He was instantly intrigued and couldn't wait to see where Jane was going with this, so he flipped the page.

This sketch showed the same woman walking across a bedroom towards a ringing telephone. At the edge of the shot, a cat was just running into the picture, and a dog was barking "off screen". This time the tagline read: "But life's hectic."

In the next shot, the dog chases the cat in front of the woman and she trips on her high-heeled shoes. In the next, she's sitting on the floor, her elaborate hairstyle has fallen down, her robe is coming open, and the cat is playing with the feathers on her shoes. "Seriously? Who has time to be a s.e.x G.o.ddess?"

In the final two shots the woman was dressed in jeans and vee-necked T-s.h.i.+rt-not unlike the outfit Jane wore this morning. The woman's curls were pulled into a simple ponytail and her feet were bare as she opened the front door to a tall, handsome man. In the last picture, the pair was back in her bedroom, where he pulled off her T-s.h.i.+rt to reveal a Tres Bien bra.

"Wouldn't you rather be yourself? With maybe just a little s.e.x G.o.ddess thrown in?"

Reid laughed as he set the portfolio aside. The ad was great. Pure Jane. Funny and s.e.xy, with just a little bit of bite.

And a whole lot of herself.

Whether she meant the ad to be a message to him or not, he'd certainly gotten her point. It was what she'd been telling him. She didn't want to be just a s.e.x G.o.ddess. She wanted to be herself. And she wanted him to want her for who she was.

Didn't she realize he already did?

Apparently not. She was so hung up on the idea that he wanted her just for s.e.x or just for the work she did.

But why couldn't she see that who she was was deeply enmeshed in the work she did? It would be impossible for him to love her without valuing her work.

He looked up to find her studying him. He flipped the portfolio closed and tossed it onto his desk.

"You're right," he said. "It's good." She nodded, the smile on her face undeniably proud. It brightened her whole face. Practically made her glow. "Will you come to New York with me to pitch it to Tres Bien?"

It wasn't the question he really wanted to ask, but still he held his breath, waiting for her answer.

"No. I spoke with Teresa yesterday. She'll be back at work this afternoon. She should do the pitch. She's the best and you need the best for this."

"I need you." He stretched his hand out to her, all but pleading her to come.

To his surprise, she stepped forward and placed her hand in his. As she spoke, she looked at him from under her lashes, coyly gauging his reaction. "It's just that I don't want to leave the cats alone. Not so soon after bringing them to a new home."

"The cats?"

"Sasha and Midge. I'm picking them up this afternoon. It's part of my new plan to take more risks."

Hope rose within him, but he needed to be sure. "Your new plan?"

"I decided you were right." She spoke haltingly, as if unsure of how he would receive her words. "I've been dreaming too long. I need to start living. Trade in the fantasy for reality."

He closed his eyes in relief and sank to the edge of his desk. With a gentle tug on her hand, she stepped between his legs. His hands settled easily onto her generous hips and he gritted his teeth against the need to hug her tightly to his chest. His relief was too new and he didn't want to crush it. "Any chance I fit into this new plan?"

She, however, had no compunction about plastering her body to his. Her head sank to his shoulder even as he felt her nodding. "Actually, you do. I thought maybe, when you got back, we could go pick out a puppy together."

He froze. "A puppy?"

"Yeah, a puppy. A nice medium-sized breed that we can enjoy for a long time."

"A puppy," he repeated. He nudged her away so he could study her expression. "You know, I was kinda hoping for a declaration of love here. You know, to match the one I gave you."

The smile she gave him was bright and hopeful. "I do love you, Reid." Then, almost as if she couldn't resist, she added, "You know, dogs live up to fifteen years. That's a big commitment."

He couldn't help laughing at her logic. And wondering if this wonderful, crazy woman would ever make sense to him. Or if it even mattered.

"Is that how long you want us to be together?"

"No, of course not. I want us to be together forever. I'm ready to trade in the fantasy of unrequited love to the reality of love that's...well, requited."

He pulled her back to him, lowering his mouth to hers and showing her, the only way he knew how, exactly how much her love was requited.

EPILOGUE.

JANE woke with the sun in her eyes and a wet dog nose pressed against the back of her neck. Mostly, it was the dog nose that brought her to full alertness.

She jerked upright and scrambled out of bed. "Trey, that's gross." Glaring at him, she rubbed the dog off the back of her neck. "You know you're not allowed in the bed."

Trey-a pudgy beagle mix-lay across Reid's side of the bed with his paws neatly tucked under his body. At her chastis.e.m.e.nt, he seemed to frown. He dropped his chin to his front paws and looked up at her with an expression of bewildered remorse. He didn't know what he'd done wrong, but he was very, very sorry.