Wanting to keep their newfound peace, she didn’t mention the date she had with Jason that weekend. She wasn’t exactly ready to break it to Monica how close she was to getting him back. Until it was a done deal, and there was less risk of it falling apart, she would rather keep it to herself. She didn’t want Monica to get her hopes up.
But one thing was certain, she wouldn’t sleep with him no matter what. As tempting as it was, it wouldn’t be right. Jason was Monica’s ex-boyfriend. She respected the fact that even though Jason would be sleeping with Monica’s body, he would still be cheating—in a crazy roundabout way. And she knew Jason wouldn’t want to be a cheater.
That Friday night, as she stood before the closet searching for just the right outfit, she repeated over and over in her head, He’s not mine. It’s Monica he wants. He’s not mine. It’s Monica he wants. And keeping with her vow to herself to keep things under wraps, she chose a dressy pair of pants and a V-necked blouse with long bell sleeves that was feminine but not too sexy.
Tonight she’d try a different ploy, she’d appeal to his mind rather than his body. Really challenge him, talk to him, listen. He’d learn what a caring, attentive, intelligent person Monica was.
The doorbell rang and her heart skipped more than a couple of beats as she took a few seconds to do a final mirror check before answering the door.
She was doing this for Monica, she told herself as she studied Monica’s reflection in the mirror. As long as she remembered that, she’d be okay.
After working closely with Monica for a week, and literally walking in her shoes, Jane had developed a genuine fondness for her former rival. Now, with a more realistic view of Monica’s life, Jane was eager to fix Monica’s messed-up finances and faltering romantic relationship. It was the least she could do until they switched back, whenever that might happen. Monica was doing Jane a few favors as well, including earning her a hefty raise and helping her lose a few more pounds. By the end of the week they both admitted the arrangement was working out far better than either had ever expected, despite their earlier difficulties.
The doorbell rang again, and Jane rushed to the front door to answer it, finding Jason on the porch with a gorgeous bouquet of flowers in one fist. He grinned, displaying an even row of pearly whites and a cute dimple she hadn’t noticed before on his left cheek, and thrust his arm forward to hand her the flowers.
Smiling so wide her cheeks ached, she took the bouquet from him and stepped to the side to let him into the house. As he brushed past her, she gazed up into his eyes. “Wow. How sweet. Thank you.” A fly buzzed by her ear, and too busy staring at his dark blue—or where they violet?—eyes, she blindly fanned her hand to shoo the fly away. “They’re absolutely gorgeous.”
“Are you talking about the flowers?”
The pesky fly continued buzzing around her head and she waved her hand again, this time making contact but knocking it into her head instead of swatting it away. An angry buzz rattled next to her ear and then she felt a sharp sting. “Ouch!” She dropped the flowers and palmed the spot where the burning was originating. The insect to blame, tangled in her hair, wriggled under her hand. “Oh! Ouch!”
“What? What?” Jason looked alarmed. He sounded alarmed too.
“I think I was stung by a bee!” Combing her fingers through her hair to free the insect, she ran to the bathroom to take a look in the mirror.
Instantly, she realized something was wrong. The right side of her face felt funny. Tingly and hot. Her eyelid looked strange, a little puffy, and her lips and tongue were starting to feel funny too. She spun around, finding Jason behind her. “Do I look strange to you?” “Strange? Noooo?”
“Here. My face. Does it look swollen? Should it be doing that?” Jason scrutinized her face. “It does look a little swollen.”
A very alarming thought occurred to her as she explored her face with her fingertips. Something was definitely wrong. “Am I allergic to bees?”
His eyes wide with worry, he said, “I don’t know. Should I call someone?”
She turned back around to see if the swelling was getting worse. It was. Her whole right side of her face was getting puffier by the minute. “Yeah. 9-1-1!” Her heart started racing and her hands trembled. “Oh my God, I’m going to kill her.” “Her? Who?” Jason punched the buttons on the cordless and said something into the receiver.
