24 JANIE
JANIE
My phone buzzes, waking me for the day. I press snooze and stretch out, reveling in the obscenely soft sheets I should not be getting used to. I absently wonder if I could take the sheets with me when I move out, then my phone buzzes again.
Benedict: Happy Monday Morning! Do you want the good news or the great news, wifey?
I groan into my pillow, but really, I’m not that annoyed. At least he waited until after he knew I’d be up for work to pester me.
Janie: The bad news is that you’re still calling me that
Benedict: Okay, good first. As of today, your department can work from home!
Janie: They finalized everything with HR? Over the weekend?
Benedict: I may have gone “all billionaire” - your words, not mine - and told them this morning was a hard deadline.
Janie: I’m trying to find it in me to be mad about you doing that but…
Benedict: Oh, are we skipping the fake outrage this time? Brilliant! The great news is…
Janie: ?
Janie: How long were you going to sit there waiting until I replied?
Benedict: I was prepared for the whole day. I have water, snacks. You caved rather quickly. You must be high on the knowledge you get to be home alone all day.
Benedict: Is that it? Are you high?
Janie: BENEDICT
Benedict: FINE. The great news is your little town has absolutely nothing going on this weekend.
Janie: Does that mean no public outing?
Benedict: I could read in that text how disappointed you are not to see me. Chin up because no, that’s not what I mean. What I mean is you can finally come to New York for the weekend instead! This city misses you terribly, she told me.
Janie: Oh
Benedict: Don’t "Oh" me, you miss her too. You and New York have a longstanding love affair, it’s well-known.
Janie: You’re a weird guy, you know that?
Benedict: Weird as in dashing? Masculine? Jawline that can cut glass?
Benedict: Are you rolling your haunting gray eyes?
Janie: Haunting? Was that a typo?
Benedict: No. They haunt me. Not blue, not green, not hazel, but gray. Huge, stormy, otherworldly and exquisite and usually bothered.
Janie: My eyes are bothered?
Benedict: Does the shoe not fit?
Janie: Fair.
Benedict: I like you angry. Keeps me on my toes.
Janie: Do you have plans for the weekend? What should I pack?
Benedict: Whatever you miss eating, seeing, and doing, let’s do that.
Janie: Twist my arm.
Benedict: I would never. They’re almost as precious as your legs.
Janie: Goodbye, boss
Benedict: Have a great day, darling! XOXOXO
[Janie has muted the conversation]
7:08PM
Benedict: So? Was working from home as glorious as you’d hoped?
Janie: It really was.
Benedict: Have you had dinner?
Janie: [photo]
Benedict: [photo]
Janie: What is that, the world’s smallest appetizer?
Benedict: Yes, and also the most expensive. I bet your spaghetti tastes better too.
Janie: Doubtful. Are you in the city?
Benedict: Someplace called Milwaukee
Janie: Working dinner?
Benedict: Always. (If by working you mean eating and getting pissed with my employees.)
Janie: Everyone in the world is not your employee
Benedict: Almost
Janie: What are you actually doing on these trips?
Benedict: Miss me?
Janie: Bye, Benedict
Benedict: Oh alright, woman! I have been doing every appearance Dad and his cronies in the C-Suite don’t want to do.
He doesn’t want to come stateside as much anymore.
Important ribbon cuttings and fundraisers.
Product launches and property unveilings.
I really just stand and look hot for the official photos.
Janie: Ever so humble
Benedict: Humility is for poor people
Janie: um, wow.
Benedict: Just trying to make you flush with rage. Are you flushed? Take a photo
Janie: Why do I answer your texts?
Benedict: Because I’m your husband.
Benedict: Your hot husband.
Janie: Preening for photos and taking women out for dinner. Sounds like you’ve found your calling.
Benedict: Women?
Janie: Isn’t that what you meant by employees?
Benedict: [selfie]
Benedict: As you can see, Mrs. Clark, there are four men and one woman at dinner, whom I am not sitting next to, as I am a happily married man.
Janie: You can sit by whoever you want
Benedict: Sure ;)
Janie: I mean it, I don’t even know why I asked
Benedict: Of course ;)
Janie: Quit it
Benedict: Quit what? ;)
Janie: Goodnight!
_____
Benedict: What’s for dinner tonight?
Janie: [photo]
Benedict: Grilled cheese again? Is it your favorite?
Janie: It’s Tuesday.
Benedict: Tuesday is Grilled Cheese Day?
Janie: I always have grilled cheese for dinner on Tuesdays.
Benedict: Don’t tell me…
Janie: Tell you what?
Benedict: Janelle Rae Rollins Clark, do you have a weekly schedule for your meals?
Janie: Lots of people do, it’s called meal planning. It’s for non-billionaires on a thing called a “budget”
Benedict: I’ll have to google that
Benedict: I want you to know it is taking great strength not to FaceTime you and open an official inquiry into your eating habits.
Janie: I’m proud of you. [trophy emoji]
Benedict: You mean to tell me you rotate through the same seven meals for dinner?
Janie: Basically.
Benedict: And if I were to counter that variety is the spice of life, you’d say…
Janie: that you sound like an off-brand fortune cookie
Benedict: This is mind-boggling to me. I’m totally boggled.
Benedict: Are you at least enjoying our recently remodeled, state-of-the-art kitchen?
Janie: I am.
Benedict: Good.
One hour later
Benedict: I need to know the schedule. It’s killing me.
Janie: Why are you the way that you are?
Benedict: Married a spreadsheet addict, now I have to know all the details about everything all the time. Bloody annoying.
Janie: LOL
Janie: [screenshot]
Benedict: WTF, YOU HAVE AN ACTUAL SPREADSHEET
Janie: No need to yell about it.
Benedict: AND YOU ALSO DO THIS WITH LUNCH?!
Janie: It’s simple. It’s very Steve Jobs of me.
Benedict: The Apple man?
Janie: The genius who wore the same thing every day, yes.
Benedict: Yet you like to mix up your clothes?
Janie: Only for special occasions.
Benedict: I am deeply confused. And concerned.
Benedict: Are these at least your absolute favorite meals?
Janie: Does it look like it?
Benedict: Again…not calling you right now. Another trophy please.
Janie: [trophy emoji]
Benedict: But seriously, Janelle, pitch this spreadsheet in the damn bin, you don’t need to be on a budget anymore. If you’re going to eat the same things over and over they should be your favorites.
Janie: I appreciate what you’re saying but these are simple meals. I’m not much of a cook.
Benedict: We will be discussing this at length this weekend. Prepare yourself.
Janie: You know what? I think I’m coming down with something. Better stay here.
Benedict: Not happening.
Janie: We’ll see.
_____
Benedict: Happy Wednesday, or shall we say, Turkey Melt Day
Janie: Don’t you need to “work”?
Benedict: Speaking of, look at this:
Benedict: [photo]
Janie: Where are you?
Benedict: What does it look like to you, genuinely asking
Janie: A lobby?
Benedict: Does it look like a hospital waiting room to you?
Janie: What??!?!!? Are you in the hospital?!
Benedict: No, I’m fine.
Benedict: (nice to know you wouldn’t pick up the phone and call)
Janie: I considered it.
Benedict: So you do care about me. I might screenshot this conversation.
Janie: What’s with the lobby?
Benedict: This is supposed to be a high end health spa. Cryotherapy, hyperbaric chamber, red lights, injections and the like. Cutting edge. C.I. is about to pump a shitload of pounds into this sector and…look at it.
Benedict: The logo, the decor, it looks like an underfunded clinic in…whatever city I was just in
Janie: Milwaukee?
Benedict: Sure. Do you see it?
Janie: I do. The vibes are off
Benedict: EXACTLY.
Benedict: This is not at the level it should be for a C.I. subsidiary. Even Mellman’s has more wow factor than this.
Janie: Harsh
Benedict: Mellman’s branding has always been stellar. Their offices leave much to be desired but that’s why I got my beautiful bride the hell out of there.
Benedict: Now how pissed is this team going to be when I tell them they need to rework the entire brand right before their grand opening…
Janie: Very?
Benedict: Worth it?
Janie: I have no idea.
Benedict: What if I sent you a spreadsheet with the financial details, would that give you an idea?
Janie: Probably
Benedict: It’s got quite a few tabs at the bottom, does that turn you on?
Janie: [middle finger emoji]
Benedict: If that’s a real invitation my answer is absolutely yes. I’ll be ready the second you arrive on Friday.
Janie: It was not an invitation.
Benedict: Shame
Benedict: Shared the file with you. Let me know what you think.
Janie: Thank you, by the way.
Benedict: For?
Janie: For getting me out of the office.
Benedict: Of course, no one puts wifey in the corner
Janie: You had to ruin it
_____
Janie: Benedict Clark.
Benedict: Janelle Clark.
Janie: One: not changing my name. Two: Why is there a crap ton of fresh sushi from Yiko’s in our fridge?!
Benedict: Three: I fear you must or it’ll become a whole thing. Four: Because you love sushi and Yiko’s is the best in New York.
Janie: …
Benedict: I’d like to propose that Thursday be changed to Sushi day.
Janie: No.
Benedict: Give me one actual good reason as to why not?
Janie: It’s wasteful
Benedict: You won’t eat it all?
Janie: I will, but how did you get it here? Delivery from the city? That’s an hour and a half away! Too much of a carbon footprint for a weekly meal!
Benedict: The delivery service uses an electric car, I checked.
Janie: No you didn’t.
Benedict: No, I didn’t, but I will. What if it’s delivered by drone? What if I have to come back on Thursdays anyway, and I bring it with me?
Janie: Why are you fixating on this?
Benedict: Because two sandwich days in a row makes me sad.
Benedict: And Sushi makes you happy
Janie: It actually does.
Benedict: I remember from Vegas. Bloody hell. In fact, I’d like you to take a video when you take your first bite, please
Janie: I’m not doing that.
Benedict: Probably for the best. Still haven’t started kickboxing…
Janie: I didn’t moan that loud!
Benedict: Every straight man on the whole Vegas strip got a stiffy at that sound that night.
Janie: BYE
Benedict: See you tomorrow, darling!
_____
“He really loves these?” Harper blushes as she hands me a half dozen pumpkin cheesecake cupcakes.
“He has mentioned them four times since we had them,” I smirk back at her and add, “and for good reason. They’re insane, Harp.”
“And you noticed how many times he mentioned them and are taking some to New York for him, what a thoughtful wife,” she says softly.
“Stop it, I’m only paying him back for the sushi.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Am I not a thoughtful friend?”
She sobers immediately, “Of course you are.”
“Right, so that’s what this is, I’m being a good friend.”
Her shoulders slump in disappointment, “Fine. It’s just he’s just sooo dreamy and you are so gorgeous and the two of you together are so adorable. Texting everyday? Sushi? Cupcakes? Are you suuure there’s not more there?”
“Positive. No feels, just friends”
“What about the other feels…” She lowers her gentle voice even more. “Have you kissed yet?”
“You saw the photos,” I shrug. Everyone with a social media account saw the scene by the willow tree. In print it looked almost as hot as it was in real life.
I fight off goosebumps just thinking about it. His body looming over mine. His strong arms. His words. His grip moving me where he wanted me like I was his plaything…
Harper dips her chin at me. “You know what I mean, I mean really kissed.”
“No, we haven’t had to, thankfully.”
“You don’t want to kiss that man?”
I grab extra napkins to avoid her big, curious eyes and start to stutter, “N-not if I can h-helps it.”
“I’m glad to see you’re still a terrible liar.”
“It’s messy, you know? Of course I’m attracted to him, he’s…
attractive,” I fumble, trying not to picture him in the secret agent costume again, try not to picture his eyes when he’s mad, or hear his voice in my ear when he suddenly takes charge.
“And yeah, I think he’s attracted to me too but that will just make this knot harder to untie in the end.
Physical chemistry messes with my head.”
“That makes a lot of sense but I wish it didn’t.
If you’re so sure you won’t fall in love then I wish you could just have a little fun with him.
You deserve it and based on what I’ve read online, I bet he could deliver, if you know what I mean.
” She blushes as she says it. My sweet, shy friend.
Who apparently reads tabloid reports about my billionaire husband.
“Thank you, but I don’t need fun. I need money.”
“Still getting the texts?”
“Yes, but much less now that I set a final date and time to meet.”
Harper gasps, “Meet?”
“Yes, January second.”
“Have you told Benedict about—”
“No, and I won’t. You haven’t told anyone, right?”
She grabs my hand across the counter. “No, but it’s nothing to be embar—”
“I have to go, a Clark driver is waiting outside. Thanks for the free coffee.”
“See you next week?”
“Yup.”
I hurry out of The Roasted Chestnut like all my failures were seated around the cafe and staring at me and judging.
Fancypants Janie, back in Juniper Falls.
Genius Janie, homeless, broke, dumped by her fiancé and all her New York friends.
Friends who all moved on to better jobs, better boyfriends, weddings, babies.
And I moved back home.
I don’t have my car or my clothes or my cat, Frankie, who wasn’t even my cat but my last roommate’s cat. But my roommate and little Frankfurter and I all knew he loved me the most.
I do have a billionaire husband, though, I remember as I am tucked into the back of a black Bentley. And I can admit it I’m excited to go see him in the city. Though it’s probably more about the Big Apple than it is about Ben.
Either way, for the first time in years, instead of exhausted, I’m feeling energized and eager on a Friday afternoon after work. I actually hope we go out tonight instead of stay in.
Wait, what?
Who am I and what’s happening to me?