She Did a Bad, Bad Thing
Striding out into the hallway, she knocked loudly on Perry’s door, and when he didn’t answer, she knocked again, her ire rising even higher. She had lifted her arm to bang on his door again when it suddenly swung open, revealing her neighbor in his long glory, his hair tousled and wearing the jeans that now were only half-zipped. And she had the feeling that this time, he definitely wasn’t wearing underwear.
He gave her a lopsided smile. “Can I help you, uh…what was your name again?”
“Jane,” she snapped.
“Right. What can I do for you?”
“You can take it down a notch.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you and I share a wall and I can hear your…music.”
“Okay, I’ll turn down the volume on the stereo.” He started to close the door, but she held up her hand. Knowing what he’d done to generate the sheen of perspiration on his chest threatened to tie her tongue in knots, but she reminded herself that she was the victim here. “I can also hear your, um…activities.”
He blinked. “Activities?”
She crossed her arms and gave him a pointed look. “Both times.”
His dark eyebrows shot up, then a devilish smile curved his mouth. “And on a scale of one to ten?”
She gasped, outraged. “I didn’t come over to score you, Mr.—”
“Brewer,” he supplied.
Her mouth tightened. “Mr. Brewer, I came over to ask you as a neighbor to please keep the noise down.”
“I’ll try,” he said cheerfully, “but I can’t make any promises.” Then he stepped back and closed the door.
Jane stood there for a few seconds, feeling like a fool. She slunk back to her condo, furious to see that her show had ended, then paced the living room with pent-up energy. To escape, she poured herself a glass of wine and went out to sit on her tiny balcony that faced west, overlooking the lights of Midtown.
Adrenaline coursed through her body—anger, embarrassment, frustration. She felt as if she were coming out of her skin, and couldn’t rightly blame all of it on her neighbor’s unwitting intrusion. Maybe she was coming down with something…maybe she was experiencing some sort of chemical imbalance. That would explain this profound restlessness that, in truth, had preceded her breakup with James, but had escalated afterward. She had the strangest sensation that her life was careening downhill, picking up speed, but headed nowhere. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on, just a feeling of being…unfulfilled.
When she heard the slide of her neighbor’s balcony door opening, her heart sank—with him permeating her living space, her balcony was her last sanctuary. A tall concrete wall separated their balconies, but that wouldn’t keep her from hearing their call of the wild should they decide to move their gymnastics outdoors. She braced herself for more lewd noises.
Instead, the woman’s high-pitched laugh reached her ears. “I can’t believe your nerdy neighbor came over to tell you that she heard us having sex through the walls. How rude!”
Brewer’s laugh was short. “More like a prude.”
Heat rose in Jane’s face and she sank lower in her chair.
“Maybe you should find someplace else to live,” his partner suggested, then she laughed. “Because we’re going to drive her crazy. And then, she’s going to drive you crazy.”
“Why should I leave?” Brewer said. “Because I had the misfortune of moving in next to a homely little geek who’s probably never had a good lay and has nothing better to do than listen to other people get it on?”
Jane inhaled sharply against the pain in her chest. Her skin burned with needles of humiliation…is that how other people saw her? Emotion clogged her throat and tears pricked her eyes. She stood up abruptly, distantly registering the fact that she’d dropped her wine glass, but not caring as she fled inside.
PERRY HEARD the sound of glass crashing on the other side of the balcony wall. He winced, realizing that his neighbor—Jane, wasn’t it?—had been sitting on the other side and had very likely heard what he’d said. Damn.
“What was that?” Kayla asked.
“Nothing,” he said, feeling like a heel as he lifted his beer to drain it. “Maybe you should go—I have to be in court in the morning and I still have some files to go through.”
Kayla pouted. “Okay. When will I see you again?”
“Soon,” he promised, escorting her back inside and toward the door. He lowered a perfunctory kiss on her mouth, and shepherded her out into the hall, sending her off with a wave.
Then he paused and looked at his neighbor’s door, wondering if he should apologize, how he could apologize for calling her a…He squinted to remember.
A homely little geek who’s probably never had a good lay.
He cringed, thinking that no matter how mousy the woman was, she didn’t deserve that kind of put-down. His mother had raised him better than that.
Perry pulled on his chin and vowed to find a way to make it up to Jane what’s-her-name…somehow.
3
THE NEXT MORNING, Jane stepped out into the hallway and set down a bag of garbage so she could lock her condo door. She blinked rapidly to focus on the lock through the sunglasses—ridiculous, but necessary to hide her gritty, puffy eyes. Her new neighbor and his girlfriend would get a good belly laugh if they knew that their offhand remarks about her sad little life had caused her a sleepless night of crying into her pillow. She was quite sure she was so insignificant to them that they wouldn’t even recall what they’d said.
While she struggled to slide the key into the keyhole, her new neighbor’s door opened, to her dismay. She didn’t look up, just stabbed at the keyhole as a flush raced up her neck and face.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Morning,” she murmured, keeping her back to him.
“Having problems?”
“No.” She set her jaw and tried to steady her hand, but she continued to fumble.
Suddenly a large hand closed over hers gently. “Let me.”
She stiffened, but relinquished the key and stepped back from his big body just to escape his touch. She turned, expecting to see his girlfriend loitering nearby, but he was alone, and dressed in a suit as best as she could tell through her dark lenses. His briefcase sat on the floor next to her garbage bag.
The deadbolt clicked. Then he turned and handed her the keys, flashing a smile.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
“Hey, no wonder you couldn’t see,” he said with a laugh. “What’s up with the shades?”
And before she realized what he was doing, he had lifted them from her face. She blinked at the sudden light and grabbed to retrieve the glasses, mortified for him to see her swollen, red-rimmed eyes. If he thought she was homely yesterday, this morning she was downright ugly.
She saw him blanch before she jammed the dark glasses back on her face. “Allergies,” she murmured, then reached for her garbage.
“I got that,” he said, snatching up the bag. “Actually, you can show me where I need to put my trash.”
She didn’t say anything, just nodded, and walked down the hall to the garbage chute. “There,” she said, pointing. “See you later.”
She veered off toward the stairs, thinking he’d take the elevator. Instead, after dropping the garbage, he followed her down the stairs.
“Hey, I’m sorry again about the noise last night,” he said. “I didn’t realize the walls were so thin.”
She didn’t respond—she knew Perry Brewer’s type. He’d throw a few nice words her way, then ask her to be home to sign for his furniture delivery. Jane picked up the pace and managed to reach the parking garage first.
“I didn’t get your last name,” he said a few paces behind her.
She rolled her eyes—as if he remembered her first name.
He caught up to her and gave her a little smile.
“Come on, we’re neighbors—I should know your last name.”
“It’s Kurtz. Goodbye.” She strode past her empty parking spot toward the guest parking area, relieved to be away from him, although she could feel his gaze boring into her back, surveying her chinos, yellow polo shirt, black Skechers sneakers and ponytail. Was he fascinated in her as a geeky specimen?
When she reached her car, she groaned to see a sizable dent in her driver’s side door, obviously caused by the door of another car that was long gone. She removed her dark glasses and bent to run her hand over the dent—her car was old, but she tried to take good care of it. To add insult to injury, she realized suddenly that her back tire was flat, caused, no doubt, by the nail sticking out of it. A handful of nails lay scattered around the back of her car, probably dropped by some maintenance worker who also parked in the guest area.
She blinked back hot tears—she didn’t need this. She’d overslept because she was so tired and was already running late.
At the sound of a car slowing, she turned her head to see the big, black SUV, and Perry leaning toward the lowered passenger side window.
“Need a ride?”
She wiped her eyes and jammed the glasses back on her face. “No, I’ll call a repair service.”
“That could take a while. I can drop you wherever you need to be.”
She massaged her temples—she just wanted the vile man to go away.
“I feel responsible,” he called, then leaned over and opened the passenger side door. “Let me do this.”
Jane stared at the open door. Then she glanced at her watch. It would mean the difference between her getting to work on time or throwing her entire day—and maybe the show—off schedule.
“Come on,” he cajoled. Jane decided it was the least he could do since his girlfriend was the root cause of her current predicament.
She walked over and took the hand he extended to climb into the SUV. His fingers were strong and warm as they enclosed hers. She clambered into the seat with an unladylike bounce, and tugged her hand from his. She closed the door and sat as close to it as possible while she put on her seatbelt. Perry was smiling at her like some kind of gallant knight in training. Even through the dark glasses, she could see he was more handsome in his suit than he’d been half-dressed last night. And she was surprised to discover that Nasty Boy had a professional job.
“Where am I taking you?” he asked.
She tore her gaze from him to stare straight ahead and gave him the street address.
“That’s the cable TV station, isn’t it?”
She nodded.
“What do you do for them?”
Jane squirmed, reluctant to give the man any more ammunition to use against her.
“I work on a local talk show.”
“What’s the name of the show?”
“Just Between Us.”
“Hey, that’s the show with the looker host, right?”
“Eve Best…yes, she’s beautiful.” Jane looked out the window, with the words that he’d said about her own appearance looping in her head. Homely little geek…homely little geek…homely little geek. She inched closer to the door.
“Sounds like an exciting job,” he said, but she didn’t offer any commentary. The silence stretched awkwardly, and she willed the morning traffic to move faster.
His cell phone rang and he said, “Excuse me,” then hit a hands-free speaker button on his visor. “Perry Brewer.”
“You’re late,” a woman’s voice accused.
“Good morning to you, too, Theresa. I’m on my way.”
“You’re due in court in thirty minutes, cowboy. Are you going to make it?”
“I’ll be there,” he said smoothly. “And I have the files I need.”
“I don’t have to tell you what’s riding on this hearing, Perry.”
“No, Theresa, you don’t,” he said, his voice more solemn.
“Good luck. Call me when it’s over.”
“Will do.” He disconnected the call, then glanced over at Jane. “Sorry about that.”
“No problem,” she said. “But it sounds as if I’m making you late. You can let me out here and I’ll get a taxi.”
“No need,” he said easily. “We’re almost there, and I’ll be going against traffic when I leave your office.”
Silence fell between them again, and Jane started to feel rude for not reciprocating his small talk. “So you’re an attorney?”
He cracked a little smile. “That’s what my business card says.”
“And you have a big case today?”
“Bigger than most.”
She pictured him in front of a courtroom and realized that the man was probably good at what he did—he was, after all, charming, convincing…two-faced.
With the requisite small talk out of the way, she concentrated on the bumper of the car in front of them, checked the strap on her shoulder bag and generally fidgeted. The man made her nervous and hyperaware of her appearance. Next to his ultra-feminine girlfriend, she felt like a boy.
And she didn’t like it.
PERRY WATCHED the slender woman next to him out of the corner of his eye, squirming, positioning herself as far away from him as possible. He felt like a jerk. Seeing those puffy eyes of hers this morning was like a punch to his gut—it didn’t take a genius to figure out that his callous words of the night before had upset her…had made her cry all night from the looks of it.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, remorse coursing through him. Words of apology watered in his mouth, but he had a feeling that he’d only make things worse if he brought it up. Still, he had to own up to his bad behavior.
“Listen…Jane,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I have a big mouth and I have a feeling that you overheard something I said last night that…was unkind.”
She didn’t say anything, but he could tell by the way she stiffened that he was right—she had over-heard him…and her red-rimmed eyes had nothing to do with allergies.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
“No need to apologize,” she said quickly, tugging on the strap of her bag. “You have a right to your opinion.”
“But I didn’t mean it. I was in a bad mood and I’d had too much to drink.”
She gave him a little half smile. “It’s okay, Mr. Brewer—I have a mirror. I know that I’m not…exciting.”
The resignation in her voice tugged at his heart. “Jane—”
“That’s my building on the corner. I’ll get out here.”
“I’ll drive you to the front—”
But she was already out of the vehicle, swinging down to the curb.
“Do you need a ride home?” he shouted, strangely eager to do something else for her.
“No, thanks. Good luck on your case.” Then she slammed the door and took off jogging toward the entrance of her building.
He watched her moving away from him, juggling her oversized shoulder bag, her ponytail bouncing like a teenager’s. Dressed like a coed, she looked young…and alone. And she had wished him luck on his case…even after what he’d said about her, she had tried to be nice.
Were there really people like that left in the world?
A horn sounded behind him, jarring him out of his reverie. He hit the gas pedal and told himself to focus—he was facing the biggest case of his career this morning.
Yet all he could think about on the way to the courthouse was the young woman he had wounded with his careless words. And he realized with a start that he’d like to get to know Jane Kurtz better…if only he could convince her to let him.
4
JANE’S SKIN TINGLED with humiliation as she hurried to her office. She wasn’t sure what was worse—knowing what Perry had said about her, or him knowing that she knew.
And him knowing that his words had affected her.
One thing was certain, she realized when she removed her sunglasses in the makeup room and got a good look at her red, swollen eyes—she was going to have to call upon some major concealer today, or she would spend the day fending off questions from her coworkers.
So she sat down in front of a brightly lit mirror and for the first time in a long time, began to apply some of her expertise to her own face. With a practiced eye, she dipped a sponge into a pot of foundation that was a shade lighter than her skin tone, and proceeded to erase the damage of the night’s tears…if only it were so easy to erase the damage of his words cutting into her soul. His apology had only driven the knife deeper.
Worse, she couldn’t figure out why she had let his words get to her. Because they had so directly fed into her own restlessness of late? Because she was worried that she was doomed to be ignored by everyone around her? To be alone indefinitely.
The appearance of her friend Eve Best for her daily makeup application ended Jane’s musings. “Good morning!”
Eve was the most upbeat person Jane knew—just being around her made Jane feel better. “Good morning.”
“Ready for me?”
“Sure.” Jane stood and gestured toward the chair she’d vacated.
“How was your evening with your remote control?” Eve teased as she sat down.
“Interrupted,” Jane said, shaking out a paper cape to tuck around the collar of Eve’s blouse. “My new neighbor is so loud, he disturbed my entire evening.”
“He?” Eve asked with a smile. “Have you met him?”
“Yes. Once to tell him that his girlfriend was parked in my parking place, and once to tell him to keep the noise down. And…I had a flat tire this morning, so he dropped me off here.”
Eve’s eyebrows rose. “Is he cute?”
Jane shrugged. “I guess so. But he’s also a jerk.”
“Gee, he can’t be too much of a jerk if he offered you a ride to work.”
Jane avoided Eve’s perceptive gaze and instead handed her a headband to secure her hair away from her face. “How were ratings yesterday?” she asked, to change the subject.
Eve studied her with a little frown, then said, “The best ever. I need for today’s show to be strong, too, to keep the viewers we captured yesterday.”
“You’ll pull it off,” Jane said, hoping to soothe the concern she heard in her friend’s voice.
Eve smiled at her in the mirror. “Thanks. But lately I’ve been asking myself why I’m doing this.” She gave a little laugh. “My life would be so much easier if I could just win the lottery.”
Jane laughed. “Mine, too.” She checked the date on her watch. “Hey, maybe we’ll get lucky today.” She proceeded to airbrush a layer of foundation on Eve’s lovely face, but this morning Jane’s focus was compromised as she continually blinked her scratchy, sleep-deprived eyes. More than once she had to switch off the machine and correct mistakes manually.
“You okay?” Eve asked suspiciously. “You look tired.”
“I…didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Your neighbor again?”
Jane simply nodded, but spared her friend the gory details.
“Sounds like a fun guy,” Eve said slyly.
Jane didn’t respond, but admitted to herself that some of her tears last night had been due to the fact that Perry Brewer was correct in his assessment of her. Not only was she a homely geek, but listening to him pleasure his girlfriend had struck a chord in her—no man had ever given her that kind of physical satisfaction.
He was right. She’d never had a good lay in her life.
“Uh…Jane? Since when do you use green blush?”
Jane gasped at her ghoulish handiwork. “I’m sorry—I’ll fix it.”
“That neighbor of yours sure has you distracted,” Eve remarked.
“Nothing a pair of earplugs won’t fix,” Jane murmured.
Turning her mind firmly away from Perry Brewer and his correct assumptions, she focused on Eve’s makeup and methodically played up the woman’s eyes, cheeks, and mouth. When she finished, Jane styled Eve’s luxurious hair while they chatted about today’s show.
“I just hope that ‘Unleashing Your Inner Wild Child’ appeals to enough viewers,” Eve said wryly. “It sounds a little like a sexual exorcism.”
Jane laughed and removed the paper cape, then stepped back and surveyed Eve’s turquoise-colored blouse. “I have a necklace that would look great with that outfit.”
From the bureau where she kept stock costume pieces, Jane removed a chunky silver and turquoise necklace and clasped it around Eve’s neck. Eve touched the piece and smiled wide. “It’s perfect. You have such a good eye, Jane.”
Jane smiled. “That’s what you pay me for.”
An assistant producer appeared in the doorway. “Bette Valentine is here.”
Eve glanced up at Jane. “And you’re going to earn your paycheck today.”
The women shared a laugh, then Eve heaved a sigh and pushed to her feet. “See you later.”
“Okay,” Jane said, fighting a yawn.
She had just finished cleaning up the vanity area when Bette Valentine sailed into the room sporting her typical tropical muu-muu, garish makeup, clanging earrings, and teased red hair.
“Hello, hello,” the middle-aged woman sang.
“Hello, Ms. Valentine,” Jane said, hoping her smile was stronger than it felt. “I’m Jane.”
“I remember from the last time I was on the show,” the woman said with a smile. “Although I’m not sure why they sent me in here. I did my own makeup already.”
“I’ll just give you a little touch up,” Jane said, gesturing to the chair. “You don’t want to look shiny under all those lights.”
The woman sat down, her bracelets and other jewelry jangling.
“Ms. Valentine, just between us, you might want to remove any jewelry that makes noise. The microphone will pick it up and our viewers won’t be able to hear you.”
“Oh? We wouldn’t want that,” the woman conceded.
“And I think I have a color of eye shadow that will better highlight those gorgeous green eyes of yours.”
One compliment at a time, she tweaked the woman’s appearance to tone down the makeup, extract some poof from the hair, and she even found a silver beaded tassel belt to cinch the voluminous muu-muu.
“That’s nice,” the woman agreed with a nod. Then she angled her head at Jane. “You’re quite pretty, you know.”
Jane blanched, her tongue tied as her mind replayed her neighbor’s brutal assessment of her. “No…I’m not.”
Ms. Valentine laughed and gripped Jane’s hands. “Dear, you’re just the sort of person I’m targeting today. You need to ‘Unleash your inner wild child.’ “
A flush climbed Jane’s neck. “I don’t have…I mean, I’m not—”
“Do you have a man in your life, Jane?”
“No, but—”
“It’s because you haven’t released the passion that lives deep within you.”
Jane squirmed. All this touchy-feely stuff made her nervous.
The woman clasped her hands tighter. “You have a secret. You hide behind your plain clothes and your ponytail because you’re afraid to let men see the wild child in you that’s dying to get out. Yet you grow bored with the men who don’t recognize that about you.”
Jane started to protest, but Bette stared into her eyes with such intensity that for a split second, Jane felt as if the woman had a “third eye,” that she could see something that Jane herself couldn’t even see.
“She’s in there,” Bette said, releasing one of Jane’s hands and tapping her lightly on the chest. “You need to find the courage to unleash her.”
Jane’s heart was hammering beneath the woman’s hand, and she couldn’t speak—wouldn’t know what to say if she could. For some reason, the woman’s words made her want to laugh…and cry. It was as if she had channeled into Jane’s deepest fear lately—that she was doomed to be the girl whose name no one could remember.
“Ms. Valentine,” an assistant said from the door, “you’re on in five.”
The woman gave Jane’s hand one last squeeze. “This one’s for you, hon.”
Jane simply stared after the flamboyant woman, feeling as if she’d been emotionally dive-bombed and blaming some of her vulnerability on her lack of sleep. But as she cleaned her tools and supplies, she turned up the monitor and watched the show with more interest than usual.
Eve introduced Bette Valentine to much applause—the colorful woman was a favorite guest. “Tell us what you mean, Bette, when you say that women should unleash their inner wild child.”
Bette’s voice was hypnotic and she emphasized main points with her elegant hands. “Women are taught from a young age to repress behavior that might seem unladylike or too aggressive, especially when it comes to sex. Some women internalize those behaviors to the point of extreme shyness, but inside, they’re dying to burst out.”