I’m determined to keep a smile on my face throughout the evening. It should really be like any other evening where I work taking care of Paige. This is my job. I was a fool for ever thinking of it like anything else. It’s only a small, sad amount of vanity that has me changing my clothes in late afternoon. Of course I don’t put on anything fancy. I don’t even own anything fancy. I’m windswept from walking outside, so I put on a fresh black T-shirt and jeans, wash my face, and brush my hair into a ponytail. It does not make me look like Zoey Aldridge in the least.

The doorbell rings for the first time at six thirty. And it continues to ring until there are eight new people in the house. Luckily the table is long enough to hold everyone.

I walk Paige downstairs right before dinner starts. She’s vibrating with nerves and excitement. People stand around in one of the formal sitting areas, a fire burning. Zoey holds court in a gorgeous black dress and high heels. Mr. Rochester sits in an armchair, facing away from us.

Paige squeezes my hand, and I give her a gentle squeeze back.

“See?” I whisper. “There’s Uncle Beau.”

A few of the people standing with glasses of wine look our way. I feel a flush heat my cheeks. I don’t want to be noticed by them. Maybe it’s immature of me, but I want to push Paige into Mr. Rochester’s arms and then run away. Instead I stand there because she needs me. Even if I end up looking like a forlorn fool in front of these rich people.

I crouch down to meet her eyes. “What’s wrong, honey?”

Her eyes are wide as saucers. She doesn’t answer. I think she’s frozen in fear.

Mr. Rochester turns to face us.

“Paige,” he says, and it seems to break the ice. She runs to him and buries her face in his arm. She still looks shy with the group, but at least she’s found her anchor.

I give him a grateful smile and then step into the hallway.

“Wait,” he says.

Run, my mind supplies, but instead I freeze. A deer in the headlights. Nothing good will happen to me inside that room. The command in his voice holds me in place. I’m out of sight right now, and I stand very still, hoping he’ll think I’ve already left.

“Jane.”

I’m Jane, now. The way he became Beau. It’s a boundary that we don’t need to cross.

I take a step back to the doorway, hoping that he needs me to fetch something. An innocuous errand for me to run. Anything but what I suspect will happen next. “Yes, Mr. Rochester?”

His full name reminds him of his place. And mine.

He quirks his lips. “Come join us.”