Chapter 19
JANE
Ihadn’t been to a real, luxury spa probably since high school. Back when my mother still believed rest was something you scheduled like a dentist appointment instead of something you earned by collapsing.
I also hadn’t taken this long off work since college, and even then I’d been working as adjunct faculty while finishing my PhD, grading papers between research meetings and sleeping in four-hour increments.
Alex had insisted, however, just saying “Jane” in that maddeningly calm voice when I’d tried arguing, and so, I’d stopped. Because going to a spa wasn’t a punishment and I was only human. This was a real treat for me and I decided to be gracious about it rather than confrontational.
Which was how I’d found myself standing in a marble antechamber, stripped down to nothing but a towel, being led by two serene spa attendants into a private room that looked like something out of an architectural digest spread.
Steam curled lazily in the air. The hot pools were carved from stone, their surfaces glassy and inviting, and the entire space smelled like mint, cool, clean, and expensive.
There was a bottle of champagne on ice waiting on a low table, condensation beading down the glass. It was a little over the top, but it was also kind of incredible.
I took a cautious step forward, suddenly acutely aware of my bare skin and my damp hair twisted up on my head, and I wondered what I’d do if they realized I was an imposter. Not one of the elite who belonged here. Not anymore anyway.
I was already working at lowering myself into the water quickly, before anyone saw me or could kick me out, when I realized I wasn’t alone.
There was a woman in one of the pools. Frankly, drop-dead gorgeous didn’t begin even to cover it.
She had deep tan skin, dark curly hair slicked back from the steam, and sharp cheekbones softened by a relaxed smile.
She was watching me as I discreetly lowered myself into the water, letting the heat swallow me up, but she didn’t seem rude or appraising. It was more like she was just curious.
Relief rushed through my muscles almost instantly once I was submerged, and the attendants murmured something polite before they retreated. The door closed softly behind them, leaving us alone in the quiet hum of circulating water.
The woman caught my eyes again and smiled, swimming to the edge of her pool with easy grace and rested her arms on the stone. “Hi. I’m Zara.” She looked at me like I was familiar to her somehow, but I couldn’t place her. Thankfully, she didn’t wait for me to ask. “You’re Jane Westwood, right?”
It was the first time I’d heard it out loud like that, my name with Westwood on the end. I hadn’t legally changed it yet. Hearing it felt odd but not wrong. Strangely, I even kind of liked it.
Zara tilted her head though, then laughed softly. “Sorry. Dr. Jane Thayer-Westwood, right?”
“Yeah, that’s me.” I smiled, finally breaking out of the surprise of being recognized like this. “I’m honestly not even sure what it looks like on paper yet.”
Her grin widened. “That’s fair. It hasn’t been very long, has it? How’s it going so far?”
“Uh, fine.” I blinked a few times, probably too rapidly since she laughed and quickly explained herself.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” she said. “My brother is one of Alex’s attorneys. That’s how I know who you are. Plus, our family is also deeply entrenched in the whole social-elite, arranged-marriage ecosystem.”
She said it with an eye roll and a shrug, like it was an inconvenient dress code she couldn’t quite escape. “So far I’ve gotten a pass. Hopefully having two unwed, older brothers buys me a few years.”
“And if not?” I asked.
“Then I become very, very difficult,” she replied cheerfully. “A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do, right? Just because my family marries me off doesn’t mean I have to make it easy for the poor dude they eventually choose for me.”
I liked her immediately. “Well, to be fair, if they choose him for you, he probably won’t be poor.”
She winked. “Neither am I.”
It turned out that Zara was one of those people who could make you feel like you had known them for years within just the first few minutes.
She spoke with her hands and laughed easily, telling me the highlights of her entire life story, asking me questions, and listening like she was genuinely curious about the answers.
“I’m a fashion designer,” she offered without even having to be asked.
“I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty big in the art scene in Chicago right now too, so I split my time between studio work and gallery openings.
How’s Alex handling being married to an actual powerhouse instead of just some meek girl who swoons whenever he looks at her? ”
Surprise rippled through me, but I laughed. “Girls swoon when he looks at them?”
She pursed her lips and cocked an eyebrow. “Girl, have you seen your husband? Panties have been known to spontaneously go up in flames when he walks into a room. He doesn’t even need to look directly at the women wearing them.”
More laughter bubbled out of me, my cheeks flushing as I finally nodded.
Just a little nod as my teeth sank into my lower lip for a second.
“Yeah, okay. I can see that being true, but to answer your question, he’s been great.
Honestly. I’m not just saying it. He really has been a superstar about this whole thing. ”
She pretended to fan herself. “You’re lucky. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not into your husband or anything, but a girl could do much worse. Especially if he’s not being a gigantic tool about it.”
“Agreed.” I laughed again, genuinely enjoying having her around in a way I truly hadn’t expected when I’d realized I wasn’t alone in here.
It had been years since I’d made a friend, but after less than two hours with Zara, I felt like I’d found a kindred spirit. A true friend I would have in my life for years to come.
“Oooh, there’s a party in Lake Forrest next weekend,” she said. “You should come. Bring Alex.”
“I will,” I said, and I meant it. “Thank you for inviting us.”
We chatted a while longer, the conversation drifting from art to family to the strange, shared understanding of what it meant to be born into expectation. It felt easy. Uncomplicated. Luxurious in its own way.
Eventually, I climbed out of the pool and went to get dressed. My skin felt warm and loose, and my mind was calmer than it had been in months. Zara disappeared into a shower, but before I left the spa, I reached into my purse for my phone and sighed when I saw I had six missed calls.
All from Colin. There was a voicemail too, and although I would have liked to cling to the feeling of peace for a while longer, my brother wasn’t a drama queen. If he’d called that many times, it meant something urgent was happening.
I pressed play, and the tranquility of the spa cracked instantly as his voice filled my ear. “Jane, I need you to get to the office. Right now.”
The bubble burst. So much for taking the rest of the day off.
By the time I arrived at Thayer Steelworks, the faintest trace of mint still clinging to my skin, I could hear shouting echoing down the marble-lined corridor and it told me all I needed to know. The brief reprieve from being me really was over.
I wasn’t a girl who floated around in stone pools that were the perfect temperature all day long, sipping champagne at nine in the morning and giggling about art and society. I was the girl who was trying to hold together a company that was over a hundred years old with duct tape and cable ties.
Following the noise that seemed to be coming from the executive conference room, my heels clicked with purpose. Irritation sharpened my focus. Man, I was having such a good day so far.
I rounded the corner and walked straight into the conference room without knocking, and as I walked in, every man on the board turned to look at me. The room went dead silent, but I took it all in with the detached clarity that always came to me in moments like this.
My uncle’s seat was empty, as usual. My mother’s chair sat vacant as well, untouched, her nameplate gleaming under the lights.
Along the far wall, where executives usually hovered during meetings they weren’t meant to speak in, Alex and Nate stood shoulder to shoulder. Alex was leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, but he seemed utterly at ease as he smirked at me.
The board members, on the other hand, were sweating. Literally. One man had gone pale. Another was gripping his pen so tightly, his knuckles were white.
I’d just interrupted something big. I could feel it humming in the air, the remnants of raised voices and bad decisions wafting through the room like the smell of an open sewage line.
“Honey,” Alex said smoothly, pushing off the wall and crossing over to me. “You’re here.”
As he reached me, he slid an arm around my waist, pulling me to him, and he leaned in and kissed my cheek.
It was brief, just a polite peck, but it burned just as searingly as our kiss at the gala.
My skin tingled where his lips had touched it.
The warmth of him enveloping me was as comforting as the hot water in that pool.
Through sheer force of will, I managed to keep my expression neutral as he pulled back, his hand briefly settling at my lower back, soothing and possessive all at once. The board watched us with wide, fearful eyes, like they hadn’t believed the news was actually true until this exact moment.
Alex turned back to them, as casual as a man discussing quarterly projections, and pointed at one man in particular. “Did you want to repeat what you said about my wife a few minutes ago or should we call this meeting adjourned? You all have some decisions to make as it stands.”
The man in question turned beet red, opened his mouth, closed it again, and then he began rapidly gathering his belongings, papers shoved into his briefcase with shaking hands. One by one, the others followed suit, chairs scraping back as they shuffled out of the room.
Not one of them met my eyes as they left, leaving only the three of us in the cavernous space. Nate looked mildly amused. Alex looked pleased as he adjusted his grip on my waist, still not letting go despite the show being over now.
“What did you do?” I asked.
Alex smiled down at me, infuriatingly relaxed. “I handled it.”
I stared at him, about to ask exactly how he’d done that when he broke eye contact to glance at his watch. “Are you hungry? We were going to go for lunch.”
I gaped at him as Nate stepped forward and opened the door for me, like rolling into someone’s else’s office and causing chaos was just another Monday for them both.
“After you, Dr. Westwood,” he said lightly.
Oh, absolutely not.
I grabbed Alex by the arm, my fingers curling into the sleeve of his jacket, and dragged him down the hall. He let me tow him past startled assistants and gawking employees until we reached my office and I slammed the door behind us.
While I still had no idea what they’d just done or why this was beginning to feel distinctly like another Westwood power grab, I had no intention of being swept to the side, kept in the dark, and fed shit. I wasn’t a mushroom, and it was about damn time that my husband learned that about me.