Jane Bites Back (20 page)

“A hundred thousand,” Jane said. “A hundred thousand copies?”

“Right,” Nick said. “Oh, and Comfort and Joy are giving each of the audience members a copy. That should be good for word of mouth. I don’t like to tempt fate, but I think you’re looking at the top of the list.”

“The list?” Jane asked, not understanding.

“The
Times
list,” said Nick. “As in bestsellers.”

“You’re joking,” Jane said.

“You got wood around there?” said Nick. “Knock on it. But from my lips to God’s ears.”

“A hundred thousand copies,” Jane said dazedly.

“One with five zeros,” said Nick. “Which reminds me, I have to go tell Kelly he’s got to up the print run. If he gives me any shit about it, I’ll remind him that my sister’s an editor over at Random House and that I’m not above giving her your number. Does your contract have an option clause?”

“I don’t know,” Jane answered. “I guess it does.”

“Too bad,” said Nick. “That would put the fear of Jesus into him. Anyway, I’ve got to run. My assistant will call you later with your flight and hotel information.”

He hung up before Jane could ask him any questions, such as what she should say on the show and what she should wear.
I should probably watch an episode
, she thought. She wondered if she should bring a gift.

The phone rang a third time, startling her. She was almost afraid to pick it up. “Hello?” she said.

“Jane, it’s Kelly again. Nick is in here twisting my arm about
your print run. I hate to admit it, but I agree with him. We’re going up to a hundred thousand. Also, I wanted to let you know that I’ll be in Chicago with you. Oh, and one more piece of news.”

“Two,” Jane heard Nick shout.

“Two,” Kelly repeated. “I got a call from the organizer of the Romance Writers’ Guild conference. It starts next Friday and they want you to sign books. That’s in New Orleans. We’ll fly you there from Chicago.”

Jane’s head was swimming with all of the news she’d received in the past hour.
Comfort and Joy. A hundred thousand. The
New York Times
bestseller list
. The words floated through her head like clouds.
Chicago. New Orleans. Sign books
. It was overwhelming.
I need to make a list
, she thought. Then she remembered what Kelly had said earlier.

“What’s the second thing?” she asked. She was almost afraid to hear the answer.

“Entertainment Weekly
,” Kelly replied. “They want to profile you in their book section. They’re doing a big what’s-hot-for-summer issue. You’re their main fiction selection. As it happens, one of their writers lives in Chicago. She’ll interview you at the hotel while you’re there for the taping.”

Jane heard Nick saying something in the background. “Nick says to tell you that they bumped Nora Collins for you,” he said. “I gather she’s none too happy about it.”

Jane heard what sounded like “tired old cow” being called out in Nick’s voice. Kelly laughed. “Anyway, I think that’s all the news for today.”

“I hope so,” said Jane. “I don’t think I could take any more. As it is, I’m not sure where to start to prepare.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll walk you through it all,” Kelly assured her. “You’ll be fine. Remember, you’re a superstar.”

“A superstar,” Jane repeated. “All right, then.”

She hung up for the third time that morning. For the next ten minutes she sat staring at the phone, waiting for it to ring again. When it didn’t, she took out a pad and started making a list of everything she had to do before leaving for Chicago. In the end it contained only two items.

“I guess there’s not so much to do after all,” she said as she looked at the list. She felt as if there should be more involved. Then she thought of something else.

Having a third thing made her feel oddly relieved, even though she knew full well that Lucy would be happy to stay with Tom and look after him. It gave her something to cross off the list and gave her a feeling of accomplishment. At the moment everything else in her life felt as if it were totally out of control. Her book was taking on a life of its own and dragging her along with it. After waiting so long to be published again, suddenly it was happening much too quickly.

She called Lucy in and gave her a brief rundown of what was happening. As she’d expected, Lucy was only too happy to stay with Tom for the week. Going over the store business took very little time as well, and at the end of fifteen minutes Jane had just one item on her to-do list.

“What does one wear on daytime television?” she asked Lucy.

“Nothing white,” Lucy answered instantly.

“White?” said Jane. “Why not white?”

“In case you get your period,” Lucy explained. When Jane looked at her with a confused expression, Lucy added, “I’m just saying. You don’t want to be up there onstage and get a note from Sally.”

“Where do you come up with this stuff?” Jane asked. “Aunt Flo? A note from Sally? You’re like a gynecological thesaurus.”

“Blame my mother,” said Lucy. “She never called things by their real names. Until I was seventeen I called my vagina my weet-woo.”

“I suppose that’s better than calling it your lady garden,” Jane mused. “Anyway apart from not wearing white, we haven’t narrowed down my fashion options.”

“I’ll come over tonight,” said Lucy. “We’ll go through your closet and see what you have. I’m sure something will work. And if not, we can always go to the mall.”

Jane shuddered. “The mall,” she said, pronouncing the word as if it were an incurable disease.

“Yeah, well, you might just have to suck it up,” Lucy told her. “I’m not letting you meet Comfort and Joy looking like you usually do.”

“Like I usually do?” Jane said. “What does that mean?”

Lucy indicated Jane with a wave of her hand. “Like this,” she said.

“It’s not that bad!” Jane exclaimed.

“Sorry,” said Lucy. “It kind of is.”

“Byron didn’t seem to think so,” Jane said, her dignity bruised. “Walter doesn’t think so.”

“Byron would make it with anything on two legs,” Lucy reminded her. “And Walter is … Walter. Trust me on this. You need a makeover.”

Jane looked at herself in the small mirror that hung on the wall. She did look tired, and her hair
was
a bit on the dull side. “I suppose I could use some freshening up,” she admitted.

“We’ll start right after work,” said Lucy. “It’ll be fun.”

The bell over the front door jingled, and Lucy went out to help the customer. Jane remained in the office, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

“It’ll be fun.” She repeated Lucy’s promise, trying to sound as if she believed it.

Chapter 21

“W
HAT ARE WE GOING TO DO WITH THIS
?”

Jane looked at herself in the mirror. Behind her, Lucy stood with a stunning Japanese woman dressed in a black turtleneck and stylish black pants. The woman was looking down at Jane’s hair with a bemused expression, as if it were an accident she had just come across and she was deciding whether or not the victim could be saved.

“Don’t worry,” Lucy said to Jane, patting her on the shoulder. “Aiko can do miracles.”

Jane smiled wanly. She was already regretting letting Lucy talk her into visiting her hairdresser. But according to Lucy, Aiko had graciously agreed to see Jane on short notice. Now Jane was ensconced in the woman’s chair, awaiting her verdict.

Aiko poked at Jane’s hair with a comb. “Limp,” she said.

“Sorry,” Jane apologized.

Aiko shook her head. “Horrific color,” she said.

“I did it myself,” Jane explained.

“I know,” said Aiko. She sighed deeply.

“Can you help her?” Lucy asked.

“I don’t know,” Aiko answered. “It’s bad.”

“But you’ll try?” Lucy said hopefully.

Aiko picked up a pair of scissors and snapped them open and closed several times while staring at Jane in the mirror. “I’ll try,” she confirmed.

She spun the chair around so that Jane was no longer looking at herself in the mirror.

“Aiko doesn’t like you to see what she’s doing,” Lucy explained to Jane. “It disturbs her process.”

“As long as it’s nothing too drastic,” said Jane.

Lucy put a finger to her lips. “Don’t say anything,” she whispered in Jane’s ear. “She’s a little temperamental. Just trust her. She’s a genius.”

Jane watched as Aiko pulled a pair of black latex gloves over her slim hands. “Color first,” she announced.

Jane decided that the best course of action was to close her eyes and think of England. She didn’t want to know what Aiko was doing to her head.
It’s going to be fine
, she repeated to herself.
It’s going to be fine
.

She pretended she was having a dream in which she was moved from one chair to another. Things were applied to her head, then rinsed off. Scissors snapped around her ears. Hot air blew in her face.

Then Aiko said, “Done.”

The chair was spun around, and Jane saw her new self in the mirror. She gasped. “I’m beautiful,” she said breathlessly.

“Yes,” Aiko said. For the first time since Jane had entered her salon, the woman smiled. “Beautiful.”

Jane didn’t know if she was referring to her haircut or to Jane herself, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t believe how she looked. Her hair was now a rich golden brown. Aiko had removed a great deal of it, so that it now framed Jane’s face rather than circling it like a tired holiday wreath. It was modern, natural-looking, and perfect, Jane thought.

“It’s a miracle.” Lucy was standing beside Jane, staring at her head.

“I know,” Aiko said.

Jane reached up and touched the hair where it brushed against her cheek. It felt like she was touching someone else’s face. “It’s really me,” she said.

“Now for your makeup,” said Lucy.

“No makeup,” Aiko said. “Just hair.”

“No, no,” said Lucy. “We’re doing makeup at home.”

“Good luck,” Aiko said, and walked away.

“Thank you,” Jane called after her. She looked at Lucy. “Am I done?” she asked.

Lucy nodded, then helped Jane out of the chair. Jane paid for her haircut at the front desk, where a thin young man dressed all in black said nothing as he handed Jane the credit card slip for her to sign.

“They’re very quiet, aren’t they?” Jane asked as she and Lucy left the salon.

“Aiko is all about minimalism,” said Lucy. “I think she likes you,” she added as they got into Jane’s car. “She doesn’t normally talk so much.”

Jane drove back to her house, making a stop at a drugstore so that Lucy could pick up some cosmetics she declared they needed
for the second part of Jane’s transformation. Lucy made Jane wait in the car as she shopped. Jane spent the time looking at herself in the rearview mirror. She still couldn’t believe she was looking at her own reflection, and had to resist the urge to turn around and search the backseat to see if some other woman was sitting there.

When Lucy returned, she was carrying a large bag. “Is that all for me?” Jane asked. “Am I that bad?”

“It’s just a few things,” Lucy said unconvincingly

Her lie was revealed twenty minutes later when, in Jane’s bedroom, she upended the bag and unleashed a torrent of tubes, compacts, brushes, jars, and various other items Jane didn’t recognize.

“I didn’t know you were a cosmetologist,” Jane joked.

“I had to do all the makeup for the band,” said Lucy. “I picked up a few techniques.”

Like Aiko before her, Lucy didn’t allow Jane to see herself as her face was done. However, she did explain to Jane what she was doing, as well as show her the different brushes and curlers and lip liners she used.

“Apply the darkest shadow to the inside corner of your eye,” she said. This was followed by “Use liner to give your lips shape,” “Hold the eyelash curler in place for at least ten seconds,” and “Put the blush on the apples of your cheeks.” “Are you getting all this?” she asked in between pronouncements.

“I think so,” Jane said anxiously.

“I’ll write it down,” Lucy said, shaking her head.

“It’s all so complicated,” said Jane. “In my day we just bit our lips to bring a little color to them.”

“Don’t use the ‘I was born before Maybelline was invented’ excuse,”

Lucy said. “You’ve had a thousand years to learn how to wear makeup.”

“Don’t exaggerate,” said Jane. “I just never saw much use in it.”

“Well, you should have,” Lucy said. “You look amazing.” She picked up a hand mirror and held it in front of Jane’s face. “See?”

Jane had been stunned by her new hair; now she was equally amazed at the transformation her face had undergone. It was still her, just a new and improved her. Best of all, she wasn’t all tarted up like some courtesan.