Excerpt from
Just Like That

© Karin Kallmaker, 2005

No portion of this work may be reproduced by any means
without express written consent of the publisher.

From Chapter 3

The door chime tinkled and Syrah glanced up. “Goodness, is it noon already?”

Jane had a sour expression as she crossed the room. “Yeah, and I’m filthy. I need to wash up.” She disappeared into the kitchen with Bennett in hot pursuit.

“I don’t have many strawberries, Jane, so no poaching.” The door swung shut behind them.

Missy finished the Pinot with a slight shiver of delight. “This is extremely tasty. I thought the Chardonnay was good, but in comparison, it’s not in this league.”

“That’s why I served the Chardonnay to you first. You’ll find a lot of our Chardonnay in the markets, but only a specialty shop will have the Pinot.”

“I can really taste the difference.”

The kitchen door swung open again. “You’d think the strawberries are made of gold,” Jane complained.

Missy transferred her gaze from Syrah to Jane and Syrah was abruptly aware that Missy’s eyes were a light, twinkling shade of blue and the color that flushed her pale skin quite attractive. One slender hand needlessly tidied her short blonde curls and the carefully crimsoned lips were parted as if she was going to say something but had forgotten how to speak.

After several seconds, Syrah glanced at Jane and nearly did a double-take. Jane’s color was rising, too, but only someone who knew her well would be able to tell under the tan. She seemed frozen in place and was uncharacteristically quite, quite silent.

Bennett bustled out of the kitchen again, then paused to take in the tableau. She looked first at the blushing Missy, then the deer-in-the-headlights Jane, and finally gave Syrah a look that said, “And look what you’ve missed out on now!”

The stillness was broken by the arrival of her father, who beamed at Jane. “Haven’t seen you in a dog’s year.”

Jane, flushed to her ears, managed to say, “Hi. Yeah,” before she went back to staring at Missy.

Syrah hoisted the first bottle of red on the tasting list. “Cabernet?”

Missy’s batting eyelashes could have fanned a forest fire. “Yes, please, unless you’ve…got a date.” Her gaze darted to Jane, who, Syrah decided, looked exceedingly stupid with her mouth hanging open.

“Not a date,” she started to say.

“I’ll finish pouring, Syrah, you could use a break after dealing with the testing meters all morning.” Her father took the bottle of cabernet out of her hand and turned his genial host’s smile on Missy. “I’m Anthony Ardani. What have you liked so far?”

“This is Missy Bingley, who’s just bought Netherfield,” Bennett explained.

Syrah marched across the room to clamp onto Jane’s arm. “Let’s go for a swim,” she said pleasantly, all the while dragging Jane toward the door.

“What the heck was that all about?” she demanded once they were in Jane’s old truck.

“Who was that?”

“Missy Bingley. You said she needed a wife.”

“Wow.”

“I thought I should get you two a room or something.”

“Wow.” Jane’s turn onto the back road was distracted. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Syrah rolled her eyes. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

“Oh, come on, Syrah. Wasn’t she gorgeous? And that smile!”

Syrah had to grin. “I’ll admit she’s very pretty. And quite charming.”

“Did she notice me?”

“Gee, I don’t know. She just blushed and stared for two full minutes.”

“Not on account of me.”

“Well, it wasn’t over me, and it wasn’t over Bennett.”

 “I have to figure out how to see her again. Maybe I can get onto one of the landscaping crews she’s going to need.”

Jane was incapable of speaking on any other subject for the duration of their dip in the pond. She took forever to get dressed, which made them late, and was still in a rosy, puppy-love state when she shoved Syrah out of the truck at the foot of the road.

Hiking up the winding road to the house, she saw that Missy Bingley’s car was still there. If only Jane had known, Syrah mused, I wouldn’t be getting all sweaty walking up the hill.

Her father was chatting with Missy in an easy fashion and wrapping several bottles. Missy turned when she heard the door chime and smiled sweetly at Syrah, but her gaze searched behind her, then fell.

“Jane was late getting back to work and couldn’t stop in,” Syrah explained.

“Of course.”

Syrah sighed to herself. She didn’t want to lose Jane to some doomed romance for the duration of the summer, but they’d been friends too long for her not to help Jane when she could. “She’s an artist, most of the time. But right now she’s making the rent money landscaping.”

“Jane’s quite talented,” her father observed. “I can’t say I understand her art, but she has a way with plants. Our hillside was originally her creation.”

Missy glanced out the window. “Is it? It’s lovely, all the different shades of purple and red, with oranges along the crest. I love those feathery sages mixed with the spikey ones—is that aloe? All that variety but it’s beautiful as a whole, too.”

“You should see her paintings,” Syrah offered.

“Yes.” Missy’s tone made Syrah want an insulin injection. “Yes, I should.

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Just Like That is a contemporary lesbian romance based on the themes of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice by Karin Kallmaker. Available from: