Jane Bites Back_ A Novel - Michael Thomas Ford [84]
She left the hotel ten minutes later. Jasper was lying on the floor in front of the desk as if he’d been there his whole life. Jane stopped to scratch his head, and he wagged his nub of a tail. “I’ll see you later,” she told him.
Another cab ride took her to the conference hotel. The gathering was in full swing now, and the lobby bustled with action as people rushed around looking for panels or chasing after friends. Jane located the schedule of the day’s happenings and looked for her name. She found it listed in two places—once for her panel and another for a signing she was apparently doing at two o’clock. But first she had to find something called the Peacock Room.
She found it on the third floor. It was a very large room, and it was already filled with people. Jane noticed Chiara Carrington, looking stunning in a ruby-colored pantsuit, standing near a raised platform at the front of the room. She was talking to a short, heavyset woman with badly permed hair. The woman, seeing Jane, said something to Chiara, who turned and frowned. Then she said something to the other woman, who laughed and covered her mouth with her hand.
This is going to be just grand, Jane thought as she walked toward the two women. When she reached them, she smiled and held out her hand to the blond woman. “You must be Penelope,” she said.
Chiara gave a stifled laugh as the woman replied, “I’m Rebecca Little, the editor in chief of Romance magazine. I’m moderating the panel.”
“Oh,” said Jane, blushing. Not only had she offended Chiara earlier, she had now revealed that she didn’t know who either Rebecca Little or Penelope Wentz was. She was making a wonderful first impression, she thought.
“Penelope hasn’t arrived yet,” Rebecca said. “I’m actually surprised that she’s coming at all.”
Chiara made a sound of agreement. Jane resisted saying anything, lest she appear even more ignorant, but she couldn’t resist. “Why is that?” she asked.
“Well, nobody’s ever seen her,” Chiara said, as if this was common knowledge and Jane had once again failed a simple test.
“She doesn’t put any author photos on her books, she does all of her interviews by email, and she’s never come to any of the conferences,” Rebecca explained. “I’ve been trying to get her for years. I have no idea what made her change her mind this year, but I’m so glad she did. Her identity is one of the big mysteries of the genre.” She nodded at the audience. “That’s why it’s so packed.” She patted Chiara’s arm. “And of course because they want to see you,” she added.
Chiara smiled demurely. “And Jane,” she said.
“Of course,” said Rebecca. “And Jane.”
Jane wished Sally Higgins-Smythe were there. At least she likes me, she thought. These two would just as soon push me off a cliff. For a moment she wondered if perhaps Charlotte had somehow told them about her supposed theft of her own manuscript. Perhaps the panel was even an elaborate setup, and she was going to be exposed.
You’re just being paranoid, she told herself. Everything is going to be fine.
“Excuse me.”
As soon as she heard the deep voice, she knew it was not going to be fine after all. Jane turned to see Byron standing behind her. He was dressed in jeans, a black leather coat, and a white shirt open at the neck to expose a triangle of pale skin. He had grown a goatee, and if she hadn’t known him so well, she almost wouldn’t have recognized him.
“What are you doing—” she began.
He ignored her, extending his hand to Rebecca. “You must be Rebecca,” he said in his most charming voice. He smiled, showing his white teeth. “I’m Penelope Wentz.”
Chapter 28
“Can you honestly say you haven’t thought of me?” Jonathan asked, taking her hand. “Have you not missed our conversations? Have you not missed my kiss?” She looked into his face, trying to say that she had not, but the words died in her mouth.