Read Online Plain Jane by Fern Michaels - Free Book Online Page A

safe.”
    â€œOkay, so you impressed him with our books, then what?” Trixie prompted.
    â€œWe ate, we talked, and then I took him out to the well to meet my ghosts. That’s why he came in the first place, you know. He has an interest in the paranormal.”
    â€œA serious interest, or is he just curious?”
    â€œA serious interest.”
    â€œI see. And then . . .” she prompted again.
    â€œHe had to go, but he asked if he could come back tomorrow, and he invited me to the movie next Thursday,” Jane said all in one breath.
    â€œThat’s it?” Trixie asked, obviously disappointed.
    Jane bit into her Pop-Tart and shrugged. For some strange reason she didn’t want to tell Trixie that Mike kissed her. Her practical self told her it was because the kiss really hadn’t been anything more than a peck. And her professional self told her it was because it was special.
    Trixie waved an arm. “Phooey. You’re no fun at all.”
    Jane hid a smile behind her Pop-Tart. “Where’s Fred?”
    â€œIn the bathroom. Where else?” Trixie rolled her eyes and Jane marveled at the half-inch-long false eyelashes her godmother glued on every morning. Once, a few years back, a colleague had said that her eyelashes looked like a herd of tarantulas on the march. It was true. They did. “He takes forever in the morning,” Trixie went on. “He spends most of his time grooming his hair, combing his mustache, and blow-drying his beard.”
    Jane looked around the sterile-looking kitchen. State of the art. The best of the best. Everything was white or black, pretty much the way Trixie viewed everything in her life; it was or it wasn’t. Black or white. She supposed it wasn’t a bad thing.
    â€œHow do you think he’ll be in bed, Janie?” Trixie asked without blinking an eye.
    Jane laughed. Typical. So typical of her godmother. No mincing of words, not even a warm-up. “I think I have a way to go before that happens. If it happens. Let’s face it, Trix, the guy can have just about any woman he wants. Why would he want me? I’m overweight. I have curly hair, too curly, and I’m no fashion plate and—”
    â€œStop that right this minute,” Trixie scolded, wagging her finger. “You sound like you’re describing a horse at auction. You put too much emphasis on looks. It’s what’s in here,” she said, putting her hand against her heart, “that counts. You’re kind, sweet, lovable, and you care about people. Stop putting yourself down. If your beauty-queen mother wasn’t already dead, I’d kill her myself for making you think you were a Plain Jane. I never did like that woman. She was a royal pain in the ass. The only one who didn’t seem to know or see her for what she was was your father, God rest his soul. There was no finer man in these parts than your father.”
    Jane licked melted icing off her fingers. “Oh, he knew. We used to have long talks about Mom. He always tried to build me up after Mother ripped me apart. By the way, that old poem isn’t true—sticks and stones will break your bones but words will never hurt you. They do hurt.” She picked her plate up and took it over to the sink. “I just hate it when I go off on these tangents.”
    â€œLike I said,” Trixie said to Jane’s back, “your mother was a pain in the ass.” Reaching behind her, she pulled a pile of stuff off the counter. “Want to see our new book? We just got our author copies yesterday. Fred was going to drop off one for you. And before you ask, yes, we signed it.” She held the book. “What do you think? Is the cover gory enough?”
    Jane studied the glossy book jacket with a critical eye. The author’s name was emblazoned across a black background. The coloring of the lettering matched the blood running off a corpse hanging from a tree. The