Allison Leigh - Plain Jane and the Playboy / Valentine's Fortune - Plain Jane and the Playboy

Jane Gilliam was certainly different from the type of woman he was accustomed to. Maybe she deserved closer scrutiny, he mused. Her kiss had been a definite surprise. Maybe there were other surprises to be uncovered as well.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, “I’ll leave word at the hostess desk for her. She’s bound to ask there if she can’t find you.”

Jane hesitated—but not too much. She really wanted to be with Jorge for as long as possible.

“Well, if you think it’s all right.”

She couldn’t keep from smiling. Everything inside her was cheering. The evening wasn’t ending yet. She’d gotten a reprieve. Who knew, once they got to her apartment, maybe he’d stay a while for coffee and conversation. She loved listening to the sound of his voice.

Amused by her shy eagerness, Jorge ran the back of his knuckles along her cheek, then watched, fascinated, as a small nerve along her cheekbone winked in and out as if it was flirting with him.

“I think it’s all right,” he assured her.

From across the room, Maria Mendoza was in the middle of instructing several of the busboys to subtly begin gathering up dishes that had clearly been abandoned when she suddenly noticed her son talking to a young woman. Not just talking to her, but leaning in the way he did when he’d singled someone out.

Squinting, Maria looked closer. For once, the woman who had caught her son’s attention didn’t look as if she was modeling all the makeup offered at a department display counter. In fact, she looked almost sweet. There was nothing brash or flashy about her. And the dress she was wearing wasn’t cut down to her navel.

She was the kind of young woman, Maria thought as she abruptly stopped addressing the busboys, that she would have personally hand-selected for Jorge.

She knew her, she realized. Jane…something. Jane Gilliam, that was it. She’d met her once through Patrick Fortune. He spoke very highly of the young woman’s selflessness and her dedication to the children she worked with, as well as her passionate pledge to help every child to learn how to read.

Several times during the evening, she’d noted that the poor girl was sitting off by herself. At one point, Jane had even taken out a book from her purse and had begun to read. While everyone else had been enjoying themselves, the shy young woman clearly felt cut off by loneliness.

Well, she obviously wasn’t lonely anymore, Maria thought, pleased. Not with Jorge talking to her. Jane seemed to be hanging on his every word.

Maria’s mother’s heart swelled with hope and joy. Could Jorge finally, finally be growing up? Could he finally be abandoning that wanton side that had him going from one shallow beauty to another? Had he left that life behind him to turn his attention to a woman of substance?

She fervently hoped so. Maybe all those prayers to St. Jude, patron saint of hopeless causes, were finally paying off.

“Señora Mendoza?” Luis, one of the busboys hesitantly tried to get her attention. “You did not finish telling us what you wanted us to do.”

She needed to get over there, Maria thought, to find out if what she was seeing was real. “Do what you are paid to do, Luis,” Maria told the young man. He needed to show a little initiative if he ever hoped to be anything more than just a busboy. “Must I do all the thinking for you?”

Luis looked a little chagrinned as he bowed his head. “No, Señora.”

Maria patted his arm. “Good, then get to it, please.”

Even as she spoke, she quickly began making her way through the revelers who were still left. But her eyes never left her target: Jorge and the young woman. Though no longer in her thirties, Maria prided herself on still being very quick on her feet when she wanted to be.

She made it to her son’s side before he had a chance to get away.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, she could see that she’d caught him by surprise. Good. “Are you leaving, Jorge?” she asked innocently.

“Yes, in a few minutes, Mama.” And then, for form’s sake—and because he loved her—he added, “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Maria assured him magnanimously even as her eyes covertly darted toward Jane and then back again. “You’ve been a great help tonight. Your father is very grateful. There were more people here than were expected.”

Maria paused, waiting. But Jorge was not taking the hint. He wasn’t making any introductions. Maria was not shy about taking matters into her own hands. It was how she’d gotten to where she was now.

She turned toward Jane, a bright smile on her face. “Hello, you might not remember me, but we met—”

It was only around good-looking men that Jane found herself almost hopelessly tongue-tied, feeling about as sharp as a button. When dealing with the rest of the world, she became friendly and cheery, which was more her natural state.

She smiled warmly now at the older woman. “Of course I remember you, Señora Mendoza. Mr. Fortune introduced us last year. He speaks very highly of you every time your name comes up.”

She was gracious as well as sweet, Maria thought. “As he does you,” Maria responded.

For a moment, Jorge almost felt as if he were on the outside looking in. It wasn’t a situation he was accustomed to. Moreover, his mother’s behavior was a bit of a surprise. She wasn’t usually this friendly with any of the women he charmed.

Bemused, Jorge looked from Jane to his mother. He could read his mother’s mind as clearly as if the words had been written on a huge billboard and hung around her neck.

Sorry, Ma, not going to happen , he thought.

Granted, Jane was special in her own unique way and he had to admit that he was attracted and somewhat captivated by her, but neither condition meant that he was about to suddenly abandon his bachelor life for this woman with the huge, soulful brown eyes. At most, he’d get further acquainted with her, spend a little time pleasuring them both, and then move on. It was his way.

“I was just about to take Jane home,” he told his mother. “She came with Isabella, so if you see her, just let her know that I’ve taken care of Jane’s transportation for the evening.”

“Of course.” Maria’s smile was just a tad strained as she offered it to Jane. Turning, Maria began to leave but at the last moment, she buttonholed her son and whispered a warning into his ear. “Don’t you hurt this one.” Releasing him, she smiled broadly. This time, there was nothing forced about it. Before leaving for good, she looked over her shoulder at Jane and said, “I hope I will see you again very soon.”

Me, too, Señora. Me, too, Jane couldn’t help thinking, even though she knew the chances of that happening were very, very slim.

Jorge waited until his mother disappeared into the crowd. The woman really did have eyes in the back of her head, he thought. Turning to Jane, he inclined his head and asked, “Ready?”

He wouldn’t believe just how ready she was, Jane thought. “I just have to get my coat,” she told him. She pointed vaguely in the general direction of the coatroom.

There was a crowd around the desk, Jorge noted. No sense in their both standing around, waiting their turn. He’d have better luck getting to the front of the line if he went alone.

“Why don’t you give me the claim number?” Jorge suggested. “I’ll go get it for you.”

She wasn’t accustomed to such attentive gallantry. Usually, she was the one running the errands. Flipping open the clip on her clutch purse, she began searching through it.

“It’s here someplace,” Jane murmured. She was forced to go through the purse twice before she finally located the small, square card with the red claim number on it. “Here it is,” she announced triumphantly.