Jane waited as Cameron came around the car to open the door for her. She probably should have just opened it herself, but she technically needed his help to stand while wearing the form-fitting red dress.
He’d been a gentleman all night, even when confronted by Lacey. Jane had been impressed—more than impressed. Cameron Vance wasn’t the man she had first thought he was. She supposed she was guilty of stereotyping him simply because he was wealthy. She should know better, but money had never been a simple thing for her.
She’d always had to work hard to keep a roof overhead, and even though she was living with her dad rent-free right now, she was paying half of all utilities and repairs to the house, as well as secretly paying some of his medical expenses, while putting money into savings each month. She hoped to expand her business and hire on a part-time helper, especially since she was often cleaning until 6:00 or 7:00 p.m. at night.
The door opened, and Cameron offered his hand, just as she knew he would.
Jane stood, her hand in Cameron’s warm, sturdy one.
Cameron was right. The fresh air after the rain storm smelled wonderful, and when she got home, she’d probably sit on the back porch for a while. She wanted to remember every bit of the evening, with the exception of the Lacey confrontation.
Cameron dropped her hand and opened the rear door to fetch the basket. “I’ll carry it in for you,” he said.
They walked to the porch. Jane felt awkward since this wasn’t her house, and this wasn’t really a date, and she was wearing Cameron’s mom’s dress. She was both relieved and disappointed when the front door suddenly opened before they reached the porch.
“Oh,” Selena said, coming out. “I was just leaving. You’re back already?”
“We’re both pretty tired,” Cameron said. “Did the auction numbers come in strong?”
“Jerry’s double checking everything, but it looks like we raised almost one-hundred thousand on the auction alone,” Selena said.
“Wow, that’s great,” Cameron said.
Selena’s gaze turned to Jane. “Do you need help getting out of that dress before I leave?”
“If you don’t mind,” Jane said.
And just like that, the evening with Cameron was over. He set the basket in the front foyer, and moments later he was gone. Jane went upstairs with Selena, who chattered on and on about the success of the night, while Jane only half-listened. Her thoughts were with the man she’d laughed with and danced with and who’d spent more on a basket than she made in a week.
Then she remembered, she’d forgotten to give him one of the flavored honey jars. A plan started to form in her mind of how she might take one to him and see him again, but she immediately squelched the idea.
She’d leave the jar here with a note to his mom explaining it.
That would be the rational thing to do.
“How much should I leave Mrs. Vance for the dry-cleaning bill?” Jane said as she unclasped the pearl necklace and set it in the velvet jewelry box on the vanity table.
“Oh, you shouldn’t worry about it,” Selena said.
Jane turned to face the woman. “I wore the dress, and I’m sure it needs to be cleaned, although I was very careful with it.”
Still, Selena waved her off. “Louisa wouldn’t want you to. In fact, she would be offended.”
“Are you sure?” Jane asked. “I can leave some money with a note. I forgot to give Cameron some of the honey from the gift basket anyway.”
“You must believe me,” Selena said. “Louisa loves to help people; she would never expect you to pay for dry cleaning.”
“All right,” Jane said, forming another plan in her mind. Maybe she could call Cameron and discuss the dry-cleaning protocol with him. It could just be a simple, casual conversation. No expectations. She could thank him again for a lovely evening.
No. Cameron was Cameron, and she was Jane—the cleaning lady who just happened to be Cinderella for a night. The sight of her in the mirror, back in her regular clothes, drove that idea home.
“You’ve been great, Selena,” Jane said. “I appreciate all your help tonight.”
“Oh, you’ve been the one who’s helped out tonight,” Selena said with a laugh. “I’m sure Louisa and Cameron will be calling you to thank you again.”
Jane’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Cameron calling her, even though she knew it wouldn’t actually happen. That would be above and beyond Cameron’s obligation—of which he had none toward her.
The evening had been wonderful, but it was over now. She headed down the stairs with Selena. In the foyer, Jane bent to open the clear plastic wrapping of the gift basket and fished out a raspberry-flavored honey. She set it on the small table by the entrance, then searched through her purse for her small notebook that came in handy from time to time. She ripped out a blank page and wrote a quick message to Cameron.
Selena opened the door, and Jane said, “I’ll come out with you.”
Jane followed her out, carrying the basket. “Thanks again for everything, Selena.”
“No problem,” she said. “I hope to see you soon.”
Jane just smiled. She knew there was no chance. Her life had crossed with the Vances for the last time. She set the basket on the front seat of her car, then gave a final wave to Selena as she got into her own car.
On the drive to her dad’s house, Jane finally had her thoughts to herself to mull over the evening. She’d probably read too much into Cameron’s attentions toward her. But when she thought of dancing with him, especially that final dance when he’d pulled her closer, she knew that her rapid pulse hadn’t been just circumstance. She liked Cameron Vance. A lot.
But tomorrow it would all fade away and become a hazy dream she could look back at once in a while. She only wished they’d taken a picture—so at least she could remember the dress. But it was probably a good thing they hadn’t. It would be too hard to forget Cameron in his tux if she could look at a picture.
She turned into her dad’s driveway. The porch light was on, but the rest of the house was dark. She was surprised he hadn’t at least left the living room light on. But then again, she wasn’t a teenager anymore.
She climbed out of the car and picked up the basket from the seat. The gourmet food would be delicious, and her father would be astounded at the price Cameron paid for it. She planned to thoroughly enjoy each item in the basket. She might even take pictures.
Jane used her key to unlock the front door, then quietly shut the door behind her. She set the basket on the kitchen table, then went into her room to change into her standard sleeping wear—yoga pants and a well-washed T-shirt. She grabbed an oversized sweater, then she went out into the backyard and set the old lawn chair on the small, weathered wooden deck. The deck was also littered with pine needles from a too-close pine tree that had probably been planted before the previous homeowner built the deck. She settled back on the lawn chair and pulled the sweater close.
The temperature was perfect, the night sounds soothing. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while, but she closed her eyes anyway, listening to the breeze stirring the aspens at the edge of the yard.
“Jane? Did you fall asleep out here?”
Was she dreaming about her dad’s voice? She cracked an eye open and was nearly blinded by the sun shining right in her face.
Then a shape moved in front of the bright light.
Jane blinked. “Dad?” She must have fallen asleep in the lawn chair. She bolted up. “Oh, no. I’m late. What time is it?”
“It’s Sunday,” her dad said with a chuckle. Then he frowned. “Did you get drunk last night?”
“No.” When she saw the doubt on her dad’s face, she swung her feet off the lawn chair and stood up. “Honest, Dad. I sipped some wine, but it was too sweet.” The truth was, she didn’t entirely trust herself around Cameron, and wine would have relaxed some of her inhibitions.
Her dad chuckled.
He was in a good mood today.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he started, “but I had some of those wafers in the basket.”
“That’s fine, but did you check the sugar content?”
When her dad didn’t answer, Jane sighed and moved past him and walked into the house. She fished the wafer package out of the garbage. Her stomach roiled when she saw the sugar content. “Dad? Come in here. We need to test your blood.”
He came in, a sheepish expression in his brown eyes. He sat down like a five-year-old kid who was in trouble with his mom while Jane grabbed the glucose meter. She pricked his finger, then waited for the results.
When she saw the high number, she said, “What did you eat for breakfast?”
“Juice and that leftover blueberry muffin.”
“I’m giving you a dose of insulin, then we’re going to the clinic,” Jane said. She prepared the syringe, then handed it over to her dad. One thing she’d always insisted on was that her dad give himself his own shots. It helped him take more responsibility.
Then she hurried into her room, refusing to listen to any of her dad’s protests. She didn’t have time to dress, so she tugged off her shirt to at least put on a bra. Then, shirt back on, she hurried to the front room. Her dad had just opened the door, his cane gripped in one hand.
“Come on,” she said, looping her arm in his. He might be fine, but if his levels skyrocketed, he could pass out on her. So they walked arm and arm to her car, and she got him into the passenger seat, then shut the door.
Once she sat down, her dad said, “I feel all right. You’re overreacting.”
Jane started the engine. “If you start feeling faint, then it’s too late. I hope I’m overreacting, but the truth is that you don’t take your diabetes seriously enough.” She handed him her phone, then started backing out of the driveway. “Look up the clinic hours. I’m not sure what they are on Sundays.”
Her dad fiddled with the phone. “I can’t get anything to work on this thing.”
“Here,” Jane said, holding out her hand.
He gave her the phone back, and she pulled over to a sidewalk curb. She quickly browsed the clinic name, then clicked on the listed website. “It opens at 10:00 on Sundays.” It was only 8:45 a.m., so Jane took a right at the next street instead of a left. She didn’t want to stress out her dad by telling him they were going to the hospital, but when she glanced over at him, he’d closed his eyes. “Dad? Are you all right?”
“I’m just nauseous from your driving.”
It wasn’t her driving, and when she pulled up to the ER entrance, his skin was very pale. She jumped out of the car, dashed through the sliding glass doors, and stopped at the check-in desk. “I think my dad’s going into diabetic shock,” she said to the woman behind the desk.
“Where is he?”
“In my car,” Jane said, pointing outside. “Right there.”
The woman nodded, then picked up the phone. Moments later two men had loaded her dad onto a gurney and wheeled him inside. Jane watched in disbelief as her father was wheeled past her, eyes shut, face drained of color.
Someone grasped her arm, and Jane turned to see that it was a lady in blue patterned scrubs. “Come sit down,” the nurse said. “I’ll get you some water. Don’t worry, they’ll take good care of your dad.”
“How do you know?” Jane blurted. She felt the tears burn in her eyes, and she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” the nurse said. “I know you’re worried. I’ll go check to see what’s going on, all right?”
“All right,” Jane echoed, sitting numbly on the edge of a waiting room chair. No one else was in the waiting room, and all she could hear were muffled hospital sounds. She wasn’t sure how long she waited—maybe five minutes, maybe twenty—before the nurse returned.
“Good news.” The nurse sat next to Jane. “Your dad’s going to be fine.”
Jane exhaled and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the nurse was waiting patiently, a smile on her face, her blue eyes friendly.
“Your dad’s awake and talking, but the doctor wants to keep him for a few hours of observation.” The nurse looked down at an iPad she carried. “What’s his regular insulin dose, and when was his last one?”
Jane answered the nurse’s questions, then said, “When can I see him?”
Another smile. “I’ll take you back now.”
Jane wanted to hug the woman. Instead, she nodded. “Great, thank you.”
They walked through the waiting room, then down a corridor. The nurse led her into an exam room, where Jane’s dad was in a hospital bed, hooked up to a monitor.
The color had returned to his face, but he looked more fragile than Jane liked.
She hurried to his side and grasped his hand.
“I’m sorry, Jane,” her dad said. “I should have paid more attention to the sugar content.”
Jane blinked back tears. “I should have hid that basket in my room.”
Her dad gave a weak smile. “That might not have stopped me.”
But Jane felt guilty anyway. She’d been good about keeping food temptations out of the house for the most part. She had a small candy stash in her bedroom, but her dad didn’t know about it. “I’m glad you woke me up and told me what you did.”
Her dad nodded, his gaze somber. “I’m going to do better, I promise.”
Jane leaned down and kissed her dad’s cheek. “A promise is a promise. I’m holding you to it.”
“Now, go see when I can get out of here,” her dad said.
“They said a few hours,” Jane said.
A nurse bustled in, a different one than the one who’d led Jane in. “I need to take your vitals again, Mr. Morris.”
Jane moved away from the bed.
“They’re serving a hot breakfast in the cafeteria, miss,” the nurse continued, looking at Jane.
“Oh, I’m not really dressed.”
The nurse chuckled. “There’s no fashion statement at this hospital.”
“Go on, Jane,” her dad said. “I’ll be fine with Debbie here.”
Jane realized the nurse’s name tag said Debbie. She gave her dad a sharp look. Debbie was a nice-looking woman, maybe in her fifties. Her dad winked.
Jane sighed. She was hungry, and she might as well eat while her dad was being taken care of. “All right. I’ll be back soon.”
She followed the signs to the cafeteria, and she was just about to open the glass doors when someone said, “Jane?”
She’d know Cameron’s voice anywhere. She slowly turned to see him crossing the lobby and coming toward her.