“Are you saying that I usually stink?” Lucy asked.
“Something’s up,” Jane insisted. “Out with it.”
Lucy smiled. “Ben and I have a lunch date,” she said. She then made another sound that turned into a cough.
“Did you just giggle?” said Jane. “And then try to cover it up?”
Lucy coughed again, but her attempt was halfhearted at best. “I did not giggle,” she said. “I do
not
giggle.”
“How many times have you seen him?” Jane asked.
Lucy shrugged. “Twice, I guess,” she answered. “Why?”
“Twice?” said Jane. “In the past year you haven’t gone out twice with anyone. You’ve gone out twice with Ben in five days. Three and a half, really, since you met him Friday night and it’s not even nine o’clock yet.”
“To be fair, one of those times was a picnic with Sarah,” Lucy said. “That’s not really a
date
date.”
“What did you do on the
date
date, then?” asked Jane.
“We
were
going to go out to dinner,” Lucy said. “But we ended up ordering in Chinese and watching a movie.”
“Interesting,” said Jane. She was enjoying teasing her friend. She didn’t often get to do it, so now she wanted to make the most of it. “And what was the movie?”
“I don’t remember,” Lucy said.
“Liar,” said Jane. “What was it?”
Lucy sighed. “I don’t want to tell you,” she said.
“Why not?” said Jane.
“Because,” Lucy replied, “I know what you’re going to say.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible,” Jane told her, trying not to smile. “How can I have an opinion when I don’t even know what the movie is?”
Lucy took the largest pile of mail and dropped it into the recycling bin beneath the front desk. “Fine. We watched
Tarantula
. You know, the one with John Agar and Mara Corday.”
“Yes. And Leo G. Carroll,” Jane said. “There’s a line about him and the movie in the song ‘Science Fiction/Double Feature.’ ”
“From
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
,” said Lucy. “I know. When I was in college I used to play Magenta in an audience participation show every Friday night at the local dollar movie theater.”
“
I
played Magenta in an actual stage version,” Jane countered. “Well, a touring company, anyway. In England.”
“You?” said Lucy, her mouth agape. “You played
Magenta
? In
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
?”
“It was just
The Rocky Horror Show
then,” Jane said. “But yes, I did. Why are you so surprised?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Lucy. “Maybe because I’ve never heard you sing. Maybe because you’ve never mentioned it. Maybe because the idea of Jane Austen playing Magenta in
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
is so freaking awesome I could die.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “I told you, it was
The Rocky Horror Show
. And it was for a very short time. I might as well have been an understudy.”
“How did you even get involved in it?” asked Lucy.
“Well, you know the show,” said Jane. “It’s really all about monsters of one kind or another. There were several vampires in it. Real ones, I mean, not characters. One of the creators was—is—a vampire as well. Lovely fellow.”
“I’m still not sure I believe you,” Lucy said. “It’s too weird.”
“Please. It was the seventies,” said Jane. “We did all kinds of peculiar things.”
“What name did you use?” Lucy asked. “Jane Fairfax?”
“Heavens, no,” said Jane. “I really don’t remember what I called myself.”
“Now you’re lying,” Lucy said.
“I am not!” said Jane.
“Are too,” Lucy argued. “Out with it. You made me tell you something I didn’t want to. Now it’s your turn.”
Jane sighed. “Oh, all right,” she said. “Meadow Brightstar. I was Meadow Brightstar.”
Lucy paused only a moment before laughter poured from her mouth. “Meadow Brightstar!” she shrieked.
“I told you, it was the seventies!” said Jane as Lucy laughed even harder. She waited for the young woman to calm down. This took a good minute and a half, during which Jane tried very hard to remain dignified in the face of Lucy’s mirth.
Finally Lucy stopped laughing and took a deep breath.
“Meadow Brightstar,” she said hoarsely. “I am
never
going to forget that.”
“Oh, good,” Jane said. “Now, enough about my illustrious theater career. Let’s get back to you and Ben. A giant spider movie is an interesting choice for someone who doesn’t care for the creatures.”
“It gets worse,” said Lucy.
“Worse?” Jane asked.
“We might have watched some of
Deadly Mantis
,” Lucy said. “And possibly
Them!
”
“
Three
giant-insect movies,” said Jane. “It really must be love.”
“They were running a B-movie marathon!” Lucy said defensively. “And you know I
love
those campy monster movies from the fifties.”
“Oh, yes,” said Jane. “You talk about them
all
the time.”
Lucy made a face. “I do,” she insisted. “Anyway, Meadow, it’s your fault for introducing us in the first place.”
“My fault?” Jane exclaimed. “Are you saying you’d like me to get rid of him for you?”
Lucy pouted. “Okay,” she said. “I don’t like movies about giant bugs. But Ben does, and it wasn’t like that’s all we were doing.”
“Oh?” said Jane, raising an eyebrow.
“We were
talking,
” Lucy said. “He is a rabbi, you know.”
“What, rabbis don’t like to kiss pretty girls?” Jane said, feigning—badly—a Yiddish accent.
“Ha ha,” said Lucy. “For your information, he kisses quite well. He also fed me walnut prawns using chopsticks and didn’t drop a single one. That’s talent.”
“Prawns?” Jane said. “Prawns aren’t kosher.”
Lucy waved a hand at her. “Please,” she said. “Everyone knows it doesn’t count if it’s in Chinese food.”
“Since when?” asked Jane.
“Since forever,” Lucy said. “Ask anyone.”
“I might have to,” said Jane. “So you had a good time. And now lunch today. This sounds serious.”
Lucy shook her head from side to side but said nothing.
“Is that a yes or a no?” Jane asked.
“It’s a ‘we’ll see,’ ” said Lucy.
“That means yes,” Jane teased.
“It means we’ll see,” Lucy repeated.
“Are Ted and Ned in?” Jane asked.
“They are,” said Lucy. “I put them to work in the storeroom packing up all the books that have to go back to the distributor. It was the nastiest job I could think of.”
“They really don’t like to get dirty,” Jane said. “Good thinking.”
“I also turned the air conditioner off,” Lucy continued. “I told them it was broken. That should make it even more pleasant. By noon it will be ninety-five degrees in there.”
“I heartily approve,” said Jane. “And now I am going back to the set to make sure Chloe doesn’t undo us completely. I just stopped in to see how things are going.”
“Before you go you might want to call Kelly back,” Lucy said. “He called about ten minutes before you got here. He said he tried you at home first, but you must have just left.”
Jane groaned. She really didn’t want to speak to her editor-turned-agent, but she knew she had to, if only to settle the situation with Jessica.
Kelly answered on the second ring. “I was just going to lunch,” he said when he heard Jane’s voice. “But that Reuben sandwich can wait until I’ve had a chat with my favorite client. How’s everything?”
“Somewhere between dreadful and unbearable,” Jane answered. “Jessica Abernathy is here. She’s trying to pry the manuscript out of me, and I have no doubt she would insert a probe into my brain if she thought she could siphon the words out that way.”
“Wouldn’t that be fantastic?” said Kelly. “Imagine if you could just
think
a story and have it appear on your computer screen.”
“A novel idea,” Jane said. “Oh, and she apparently decided that I was too busy to do any work on the film script and very thoughtfully suggested her friend Posey Frost for the job.”
“Yes,” Kelly said. His voice had an odd tone, as if he were suddenly occupied with doing something that required all his attention.
“Yes what?” asked Jane.
“Yes,” Kelly said again. “I know about Jessica. And Posey. I meant to tell you.”
“You
knew
?” said Jane. “So Jessica wasn’t making that up? Why didn’t you say something?”
“I said I meant to,” Kelly reminded her. “I just didn’t exactly get around to it.”
“You knew she was coming here to ambush me and you didn’t think I might want to know about it?” she said, the anger in her voice making it tight.
Kelly sighed. “Jane, it’s complicated,” he said. “You
are
very late with the manuscript, and we don’t have a lot of options at this point. Jessica thought that if she could speak with you face-to-face it might light a fire under you.”
“That’s not the point!” said Jane. “The
point
is that none of you told me what was going on. Can you imagine how I felt seeing that woman on my doorstep? And the way she spoke to me at lunch, I—”
“Jane, it’s going to be all right,” Kelly said. “You just need to calm down.”
“I will not calm down!” Jane said loudly. “And if you even
think
about uttering the word
hysterical
I will not hesitate to get on the next train to New York and show you exactly how not calm I am!”
“I’m sorry,” said Kelly. “You’re right. I should have told you what was going on. But Jessica is there now and she’s more than
willing to work with you on hammering out a plot for the new book.”
“I don’t want her help,” Jane snapped. “I want her to go away. As soon as possible. Preferably yesterday.”
“I wish I could make that happen,” said Kelly. “But I can’t. So please, just try to work with her. You don’t want to antagonize your publisher.”
“What about my publisher antagonizing me?” Jane asked. “Why can’t we just get another publisher? Surely someone else would want me.”
“Someone probably would,” said Kelly. “But switching publishers never looks good. I’d rather stick with Browder.”
Jane tapped her fingers angrily on the desk while she tried to compose herself. “In other words, I have to play nicely with Jessica Abernathy,” she said.
She considered telling Kelly about Jessica’s connection to Violet Grey. But that would complicate things too much, and besides, she was no longer sure she entirely trusted Kelly. She had yet to tell him that she was a vampire, and although a week earlier she would have entertained doing so with no reservations about his ability to keep her secret, now she had doubts.
“That’s pretty much where things stand,” Kelly said in answer to her question.
Jane considered this. Did she really care if she published another novel? She’d waited almost two hundred years to see
Constance
published. She could do it again.
No
, she told herself.
You couldn’t
.
This was true. Having once again tasted the joy of seeing her words in print, she was not willing to give that up. She would write the novel for Jessica Abernathy, and it would be a good novel. Better than anything she’d yet written. But she wasn’t going to be happy about it, and she wasn’t going to let Kelly off the hook quite yet.
“I’ll think about it,” she said stiffly. “We’ll talk later.”
She hung up.
The happiness she’d felt from sharing Lucy’s excitement about her new relationship had completely disappeared. Now all she could think about was how she was, in essence, Jessica Abernathy’s employee. Added to the fact that she had to spend the rest of the day keeping an eye on Chloe, this put her in a decidedly unpleasant mood.
Maybe I’ll bite somebody
, she thought darkly.
She got up and opened the office door. A woman was browsing the fiction shelves. Deciding it might cheer her up to help someone find a good book, Jane approached the customer.
“Are you looking for anything in particular?” she asked.
The woman turned around, and Jane was horrified to discover that it was Miriam Ellenberg. Miriam presented Jane with a tight smile. “Do you have
Jane Eyre
?” she asked. “It’s by Charlotte Brontë.”
“So it is,” said Jane. “I believe we do have a copy or two.”
“It’s such a good book,” Miriam remarked as Jane led her to the appropriate section. “I don’t know why, but I woke up this morning with a desire to read it again.”
“Probably because of the festival,” Jane said. “It starts on Friday. You likely saw posters for it all over town.”
“That’s probably it,” said Miriam as Jane found the novel and handed it to her.
Of course she’s a Brontëite
, Jane thought as she watched Walter’s mother examine the book as if she were checking it for defects. She wondered if Miriam had come by herself and if she was there for any other reason.
This question was answered a moment later when Walter entered the store. He was holding two cups of coffee from the bakery a few doors down. When he saw Jane standing beside his mother a decidedly uncomfortable look crossed his face.
“Good morning, Jane,” he said stiffly.
“It is, isn’t it?” said Jane.
“Did you find the book, Mother?” Walter asked Miriam.
Miriam nodded. “Yes. But I think perhaps I don’t want to read it after all.” She handed the book back to Jane. “I’ll just look around.”
Walter watched his mother wander over to the gardening books. “How are you?” he asked Jane.
“I’m well,” Jane told him. “And you? Your mother seems to be enjoying her visit.”
“At least one of us is,” said Walter. He looked at Jane. “I know my mother has a lot to do with what’s happened between us,” he said. “I should never have lied to her about you, and I should never have asked you to think about converting. I’m sorry.”
Jane didn’t know what to say. How could she tell Walter that the reason she couldn’t be with him was because his mother knew she was a vampire? He would think she was insane.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she said. “Sometimes Mother knows best.”
Walter reached out and took her hand. Jane found herself glancing toward Miriam to see if they were being watched. Walter’s mother, however, seemed engrossed in a book about the successful growing of daylilies.