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She took a pair of shoes from the bag and dropped them on the floor. “I mean, who would want to be with someone like me?” she asked. “‘Sorry, dear,’” she said in a mocking imitation of her own voice. “‘I can’t watch television with you tonight. I have to go find someone to bite.’” She shooed Tom off her blouse and shook the hair from it. “I don’t think so,” she said firmly.

“Not that it wouldn’t be nice,” she remarked as she unpacked the pants she’d intended to wear on television. “It has been a long time. And I do miss some things, like having someone hold my hand, and coming home to someone other than a cat.” She looked at Tom. “Sorry,” she apologized. Then she looked at Jasper. “Not that you aren’t lovely,” she told him. “But it’s not the same.”

She finished with the first bag and started on the second. It contained mainly toiletries, which she carried to the bathroom in several trips. “Men are so difficult, though,” she said to herself. “One never knows what they’re thinking.” She deposited her makeup bag on the bathroom counter. “Although Walter always says just what he means,” she argued.

When she’d finished, she put the suitcases back in her closet. Tom and Jasper were still watching her, Tom with a decided air of boredom and Jasper as if at any moment she might announce that it was dinnertime.

“What are you looking at me for?” Jane demanded of them. “That’s not going to work.” She sighed. “Fine. You win.”

Going into her office, she picked up the phone and dialed before she could stop herself. Walter picked up on the second ring. Jane forced herself to not hang up.

“It’s Jane,” she said. “I’m wondering, would you be free for dinner tonight? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Chapter 31

“When she finished telling him what she had so long kept hidden, she looked up, her eyes wet with tears. “Can you ever forgive me?” she asked. He knelt and took her hand. “Forgive you?” he replied. “For what? For having a foolish heart? Who among us doesn’t?”

—Jane Austen, Constance, manuscript

“IT WENT REALLY WELL,” JANE TOLD LUCY. IT WAS THE NEXT morning, and she was filling Lucy in on her dinner and conversation with Walter the night before. “He was particularly pleased to hear that I’m not really celibate. At least not by choice.”

“So you told him about the whole, you know … situation?” Lucy asked.

Jane, who was alphabetizing the mystery section, suddenly became very interested in the cover of an Ellis Peters novel. “It didn’t come up,” she mumbled.

“Excuse me?” said Lucy. “It sounded like you said you chickened out. Is that right?”

“I’m going to tell him,” Jane said. “Just not right now.”

Lucy made a clucking sound with her tongue.

“Don’t tut-tut me,” Jane warned. “I’ll get to that part eventually. It was difficult enough telling him that I have abandonment issues. When he said he would never leave me, it was all I could do not to have a breakdown on the spot.”

“Well, you have ten years or so to tell him,” Lucy said. “That’s about when he’ll start wondering why you never gain weight and your hair doesn’t turn gray.”

“I can always tell him that I’m very well preserved,” Jane suggested.

Lucy laughed. “At least the two of you are finally an item.”

“An item,” said Jane. “You make us sound like celebrities.”

“Well, one of you is,” Lucy reminded her.

Before Jane could answer her, the phone rang. Jane went into the office and picked it up.

“Jane, it’s Kelly.” His voice sounded odd—shaky and sniffly

“What’s the matter?” Jane asked, worried.

“Bryce is having an affair,” Kelly sobbed. Jane could hear him hiccuping as he burst into tears.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“I’m sure,” Kelly said. “Besides, I confronted him and he told me.”

“Oh, Kelly,” said Jane. “I’m so sorry.”

“The worst part is, he met the guy when we were in Chicago.”

“How did he have time?” Jane asked, realizing as soon as the words were out that it was probably not the right thing to say.

“They met in the gym at the hotel,” Kelly explained.