Rachel Gibson - See Jane Score

“It’s all made up,” someone said. But it didn’t feel at all made up to Luc. It was all so eerily familiar it raised the hair on the back of his neck. The red dress. The part about hard nipples. About being cold or turned on. The red thong panties. Sucking a bruise.

A piece of the puzzle slid into place. It was Jane. Someone had been eavesdropping on him and Jane, but that was impossible. You make me want to suck a bruise on you just so I can kiss it better -Luc remembered saying that as he’d touched her soft skin. The night she’d worn the red dress, he’d wanted to leave a mark on her. His mark. Had they been followed? In his mind, he moved a few more pieces of the puzzle, but he still didn’t get a clear picture.

“Hey, boys. What are you all doing?”

Luc glanced up from the glossy pages of the magazine to Jane’s green eyes. He would have to tell her. She’d freak out.

“Sharky,” the guys greeted her.

The corners of her lips tilted up slightly as she looked at him. Then her gaze fell on the open magazine and her little smile froze.

“Have you ever heard of The Life of Honey Pie ?” Sutter asked her.

Jane’s gaze locked with Luc’s. “Yes. I have.”

“Honey Pie wrote about Luc.”

Color drained from her already pale complexion. “Are you sure it’s you?”

“Positive.”

“I’m sorry, Luc.”

Luc rose from his chair. She understood what it meant. To him. She understood even what the rest of the guys didn’t. Now, when anything was written about him, the Honey Pie article would be mentioned, just one more excuse to dissect his private life. To dig into the stuff that just didn’t matter. He moved to her and looked into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, then shook her head.

Without thinking about it, Luc took her arm and they walked from the bar. They crossed the lobby and entered the elevator. “I’m so sorry, Luc,” she said just above a whisper.

“It’s not your fault, Jane.” He punched the number to her floor, then glanced over at her. She stood in the corner of the elevator. Her eyes were huge and filling with water and she suddenly looked very small. By the time they got to her hotel room, tears were falling down her cheeks. He hadn’t even told her of his bizarre suspicions and she was already crying.

“Jane,” he began as soon the door shut behind him. “I know this will sound crazy…” He paused to sort it all out in his head. “There are some things in that Honey Pie piece-of-shit article that are just too close to be a coincidence. Things that were written about you and me that actually happened. I don’t know how she knew so much. It’s like someone was watching us and taking notes.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed and stuck her hands between her knees. She didn’t say anything, and he continued to try and explain what he didn’t understand. “Your red dress, for one. She described your red dress with the chain down the back.”

“Oh, God.”

He sat down beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. The things the writer of the article knew about him were disturbing. Jane was already so upset, he didn’t go into any more detail because he didn’t want to scare her more than necessary. “I can’t believe this is starting up again. I’ve been careful to get away from this sort of crap.” He gave her a squeeze. Thoughts tumbled in his head but made no sense “I feel crazy. Paranoid. A little insane. Maybe I should hire a PI to get to the bottom of this.”

She jumped up as if her pants had caught fire and walked to the chair by the window. She chewed on her bottom lip and gazed somewhere over the top of his head. “You’re not flattered?”

“Hell, no! I feel like some total stranger has been watching me. Us. Sneaking around, hiding in the shadows.”

“We would have noticed someone following us.”

“You’re probably right, but I don’t know how else to explain the things in that magazine. I know how crazy it sounds.” And it did sound crazy. Even to him, and he’d read it. “Maybe one of the guys…” He shook his head as he thought out loud. “I don’t like to think that one of the guys had something to do with this, but who else?” He shrugged. “Maybe I’ve lost my mind.”

She looked at him for several long moments, then said in a rush, “I wrote it.”

“What?”

“I write the Honey Pie serial.”

“What?”

She took a deep breath and said, “I’m Honey Pie.”

“Right.”

“I am,” she said through her tears.

“Why are you saying this?”

“Damn it! I can’t believe I’m going to have to prove it to you. I never even wanted you to find out about it.” She wiped her cheeks and folded her arms across her chest. “Who else would know that you asked me if I was cold or turned on? We were alone in my apartment.”

And then, one by one, the pieces of the puzzle slid into place. The things that only he and Jane knew. The note he’d seen stuck in her day planner reminding her of some “Honey Pie” decision she had to make. Jane was Honey Pie. She couldn’t be. “No.”

“Yes.”

He stood and looked across the room at Jane. At the dark curls he loved to touch. Her smooth white skin and pink mouth he loved to kiss. This woman looked like Jane, but if she was really Honey Pie, she was not the woman he thought he knew.

“Now you don’t have to hire someone,” she said as if that were some damn consolation. “And you don’t have to suspect one of the guys.”

He stared into her eyes as if he could see the unbelievable truth written there. What he saw was guilt. His chest felt suddenly hollow. He’d trusted her enough to let her into his home and his life. His sister’s life too. He felt like such an ass.

“I wrote it the night after you kissed me the first time. You could say I was inspired by you.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “I wrote it a long time before we became involved.”

“Not that long.” Even to himself, his voice sounded strange. Like his chest, hollow, waiting for his anger to rise up and fill it. It would, but not yet. “You’ve always known how I feel about that made-up bullshit being written about me. I told you.”

“I know, but please don’t be angry. Or rather, be angry, because you have every right. It’s just that…” Her tears filled her eyes again and she wiped at them with her fingers. “It’s just that I was so attracted to you, and you kissed me and I wrote it.”

“And sent it in to be published in a porno magazine.”

“I was hoping you’d be flattered.”

“You knew I wouldn’t be.” The anger he’d been holding swelled in his chest. He had to get out of there. He had to get away from Jane. The woman he’d thought he was falling in love with. “You must have had a real good laugh when I thought you were a prude. When I thought my fantasies would shock you.”

She shook her head. “No.”

Not only had she betrayed his trust in her, she’d made a raging fool of him. “What else am I going to read about myself?”

“Nothing.”

“Right.” He walked to the door and reached for the handle.

“Luc, wait! Don’t go.” He paused. Her voice came to him, filled with tears and the same stabbing pain that twisted in his gut. “Please,” she cried. “We can work this out. I can make this up to you.”

He didn’t turn around. He didn’t want to see her. “I don’t think so, Jane.”

“I love you.”

Her words were one more knife to his back, and the anger he’d been holding back finally broke free. He thought he would come apart with it. “Then I would hate to see what you do to people you don’t love.” He opened the door. “Stay the hell away from me, and stay away from my sister.”