I admit I’d screwed up where Jane was concerned, but my heart had been in the right place. If Jane couldn’t see that . . .
But I was still worried about her. Whitney was evil incarnate. Sweet Jane would be putty in her hands. I wasn’t about to mention that point to Jane, though, because her reaction wouldn’t be pretty.
Naturally the town grapevine conspired to make sure I found out that Jane had accepted Whitney’s invitation to lunch.
Furious with that skinny interloper Whitney, I drowned my sorrows in piles of drywall and mud. I worked ten straight hours that day and tried to avoid any more news about the damn Lunch that Rocked the World.
And as if this day couldn’t get any worse, I had to drag myself to a Festival Committee meeting that night. Even though this was an officially announced meeting, Jennifer and Whitney were no-shows. But I still had to contend with Jane’s frosty behavior toward me. I was relieved that none of the others seemed to notice her curt responses to my comments.
We turned to the topic of the Pet Fashion Show and began coming up with all the possible categories we would offer. I listed what we’d settled on so far. “We have Most Glamorous, Most Dignified, Cutest, Scariest, Most Creative Costume. What else?”
“Most Sporty?” Ellie suggested, and I wrote that down.
Sylvia raised her hand. “How about the one who Most Resembles Food?”
“Oh, like a Dachshund dressed like a hot dog,” Jane said.
“Right. Or a cat dressed as a pizza.”
I checked my list. “We should also decide whether the same animals will parade around together or whether it should be cats with cats and dogs with dogs. Or should we just have a free-for-all?”
We had a hearty debate and finally decided that they should all compete with each other. It was a “pet” show, after all. Not a dog show or a cat show.
“Let’s give it a cute name,” Ellie said. “‘Pet Fashion Show’ is boring.”
“What do you have in mind?” Jane asked.
Ellie looked hopeful. “How about the Pet Parade? That’s a little jazzier.”
Sylvia raised her hand. “I’m entering my cat. I was thinking we could call it the Cat Crawl?”
“The Mutt Strut,” Judy said.
“The Bunny Hop,” Ellie cried.
By now we were giggling as some of them came up with truly silly names, depending on the pet. Procession of the Parrots. The Cavalcade of Cows. Pigs on Parade.
I’d been trying to avoid eye contact with Jane because I hated seeing that scowl on her face. But now I looked at her and she was smiling and so was I. A moment of connection happened and then she looked away.
So there was hope.
Chapter Twelve
In her insatiable need to ruin my life, not only did Whitney try to go after Jane, but she also convinced her husband, Tommy, to nag me until I confessed the reason behind my fallout with Jane. That way, Whitney would be able to casually drop all the right little barbs and stoke Jane’s anger at me and separate us further.
I was probably being a little paranoid about the whole situation, but honestly Whitney was a thing to be feared. Still, Jane knew all about my past with Whitney, so maybe, despite her anger, she might see the truth. It was my only hope.
I ran into Tommy at City Hall that morning when I stopped by to drop off another building permit. He pulled me aside and asked what was going on between me and Jane.
“Why do you ask?” I said.
“Don’t tell Whitney I said anything, but she’s really concerned about you two.”
“Oh, that’s so nice of her,” I said, inwardly rolling my eyes. Tommy was so naive.
“She’s just that way,” Tommy said with a shrug. “She hates it when the people she cares about are having problems. The thing is, she knows you’ll be fine. You’re strong. But she thinks Jane could use a friend right now and is trying to set up a lunch with her.”
I fumed silently. “Your wife is really generous.”
He nodded vigorously. “I know, right? She’s the greatest. I think she’ll be able to give Jane some good advice about her bed-and-breakfast. Whitney is fantastic when it comes to running a business.”
Seeing as how she’d run exactly zero businesses in her life, I could see how he would believe that.
“Oh, Tommy, you’re so lucky you married her.” My voice was as sweet as sugar while in my head I was dreaming of ways to torture the conniving little witch. Like, maybe chop off the stiletto heels from all her shoes when she wasn’t looking.