She was chatting in low tones with two of Jayne’s other neighbors and co-workers—Meredith Blair, who was a jewelry designer for Colette, and Sylvie Bennett, who worked as a marketing manager for the company. Meredith, as always, was dressed in her usual, nondescript style, her long beige skirt and shapeless ivory sweater doing nothing to enhance what could be a very curvy figure and truly spectacular facial features, if Meredith would only give herself a chance. Her long, reddish-brown, curly hair was, as usual, pulled tersely away from her face, held in place with a barrette that was as nondescript as her clothing.
Although she’d only known Meredith for a month, Jayne recognized her neighbor’s low self-esteem and knew Meredith went out of her way to downplay her appearance in an effort to make herself invisible. Which wasn’t going to work much longer, as far as Jayne was concerned, because Meredith designed some of the most beautiful jewelry Jayne had ever seen. She was sure to go far in the business. People were going to start noticing her soon. And then what would Meredith do?
Not that Jayne was in any position to criticize the other woman’s style…or lack thereof. At least Meredith’s clothing matched. And was dry. Glancing down at her own questionable appearance again, Jayne found herself wishing she could be invisible—at least for today.
Sylvie, on the other hand, despite the quiet, obviously serious conversation in which the three women were engaged, appeared to be her usual feisty self. Her expression was more intense than the other women’s, as if she were gearing up for battle. Her stark black curls were swept back at her nape, her dark-brown eyes flashed fire. Coupled with her deep burgundy power suit, she appeared a formidable force indeed.
Doing her best not to make wet, squishy sounds as she walked, Jayne strode toward the group. But the three women were so wrapped up in their conversation that they didn’t even notice her approach. Not until Jayne greeted them.
“G-g-g-good m-m-m-morning,” she said through chattering teeth as she halted, resigned to her fate. “L-l-l-lovely m-m-m-morning, is-s-sn’t it-t-t-t?”
The three women turned to her at once, opening their mouths to reply. But when they got a collective look at her, they hesitated. For one taut moment no one said a word. Then all three of her neighbors responded in unison.
“Jayne, if I’d known you were walking today, I would have offered you a lift,” Sylvie told her.
“I just made it in myself before the skies opened up,” Meredith added.
“You could have taken the bus with me, you know,” Lila threw in for good measure.
Jayne lifted a hand to stop the flow of commentary. After all, it wasn’t as if they were telling her anything she didn’t already know. “I overslept, so I was running late and missed the bus,” she said. “Thanks for the offer of a lift, Sylvie, but I’m sure I missed you, too. Besides, it was barely drizzling when I left home. I thought the buildings would shelter me well enough. I should have known better. It’s definitely going to be one of those days—I can feel it in my bones.”
Automatically, she reached for the brooch Rose Carson had pinned to her blouse earlier. “I did run into Rose, though, before I left. She insisted I wear this pin.” Jayne smiled wryly as her friends leaned in for a closer look. “She said it would bring me good luck, but I don’t think anything can improve this day. Things are only going to get worse from here. Mark my words.”
There, she thought. By saying that she expected the worst, surely things would get better. Then she immediately cursed herself, because in supposing things would get better, she had surely just jinxed herself again. And on top of just jinxing herself again, she’d just tried to reverse-psychology fate. And that, she was certain, was bound to be a major metaphysical no-no.
Sure enough, in response to her remark, all three of her friends exchanged curious—and clearly very anxious—glances, and Jayne got the distinct impression that things were indeed about to get worse. Again.
“What?” she demanded, her stomach clenching nervously in response to their obvious worry. “What’s wrong?”
For a moment she didn’t think any of them would answer her. Then, finally, Lila hastily replied, “It’s just a rumor.”
Oh, that didn’t sound good at all, Jayne thought. And, just like that, all thoughts of her current state of personal discomfort immediately fled to the back of her brain. “What’s just a rumor?” she asked.
This time it was Sylvie who answered. “It’s about Colette,” she said simply.
“What about it?” Jayne asked.
“Well,” Sylvie began again, “it’s like Lila said—just a rumor.”
Jayne switched her gaze from one woman to the other and back again. “But what, exactly, is it?” she demanded more frantically. “What’s wrong? Why do you all look like you’re expecting the end of the world?”
“It’s a hostile takeover of the company,” Meredith blurted out with an artist’s kind of spontaneity.
“A hostile takeover?” Jayne echoed. “What do you mean a hostile takeover? Why would anyone want to hostilely take over Colette, Inc.? It’s such a nice company.”
“That’s why someone wants to take it over,” Meredith pointed out. “Word has it that someone—and nobody seems to know who—is buying up shares of Colette in an effort to have controlling interest.”
“But that won’t affect us, will it?” Jayne asked hopefully—and probably naively, she couldn’t help thinking.
“Well, there is that pesky business of our jobs,” Sylvie said mildly. “Hostile takeovers have a tendency to lead to downsizing, and downsizing has a tendency to cause unemployment. Oh, but hey, other than that…”
“But…but…but…” Jayne sputtered. Unfortunately she had no idea what to say.
“Look, there’s no need to panic,” Lila said emphatically. “It’s just a rumor.”
But rumors were almost always at least grounded in truth, Jayne thought. And this one was doubtless no different. “What happens if Colette is taken over?” she asked. “Hostilely or not? What will happen to our jobs?”
Jayne was completely ignorant when it came to all things corporate related. Although she genuinely enjoyed her job as a salesclerk, she really wasn’t much interested with the workings of the business as a whole. Her familiarity with Colette, Inc., was limited to the history of the company that was common knowledge in Youngsville, what she’d heard from her neighbor co-workers, and what she’d learned herself in employee training a month ago. About how Abraham Colette, whose family had been in the jewelry business in Paris for generations, came to Youngsville from France in 1902 to start over. About how he married a local girl named Teresa and started his own branch of the company, which soon became known for having the most precious of precious gems in the most exquisite of settings.
Even during the Depression, Colette, Inc., had flourished, thanks to Carl Colette, Abraham and Teresa’s son, who naturally followed in his father’s footsteps, and had had the foresight to bring in investors a decade earlier. As a result, over the years, Colette had become known nationwide, even worldwide, for its unique and elegant pieces, pieces created by only the finest designers and craftspeople.
Which, Jayne thought further, probably went a long way toward explaining this hostile takeover business.
“What will happen to our jobs if someone takes over the company?” she asked again when no one offered a reply—which wasn’t exactly reassuring. “I can’t lose this job,” she said further. “I was lucky to get it in the first place, and that was only because Rose put in a good word for me. I’m not trained to do anything. I’d never find something else that pays as well as this. I need my commissions,” she added, swallowing the hysteria she heard bubbling up in her words. “I have a brother and