It happened in a blur and Jane was helpless to stop it. Anyone within a ten-mile radius could hear the car come screeching around the corner. It was a sleek black private cab, the kind that carried some of New York’s most important citizens. It had been raining for weeks now and the car had taken the turn too sharply. The wheels lost their traction and the car slid off the road and into a bright blue mailbox on the sidewalk.

Once the world had stopped moving in slow motion, Jane ran across the street to where the cab had crashed. Smoke furled skyward in thick tendrils from the hood of the car. Jane flung open the back door and peered inward to offer assistance to anyone that might be inside. There was a man sprawled across the seat, who was mumbling curses. The front passenger’s seat had been pushed back into his legs on impact and his foot was now caught underneath. Without stopping to hear what he had to say, she reached under the seat and began gently tugging at his leg. She twisted his foot and pulled it out, setting it on the ground outside.

The man pulled his other leg out of the cab and steadied himself on the door. “Are you hurt?” Jane prompted, earning a grumble from the man. “Can I do anything?” Another grumble. She leaned into the car to see if the driver might need her also. He was an older man, his hands tightened like a vice around the wheel. “Are you alright, sir?”

“I’m fine, ma’am. Thank you.” The driver asserted his well-being as he clambered out of the vehicle, which was now starting to groan, rolling slightly back from the mailbox that was lodged in its hood. Jane turned back to the other. He was beginning to walk on shaky legs.
“Just stand to the side. I’ll be fine.” He snapped before she could have a chance to protest. She watched him wince as he put light pressure on his foot. The driver rushed around the back side of the car to pull the man up by an arm. “Stop, Pilot. I’m fine. Please, go home.” The driver seemed either too smart or too afraid to disobey. With that, Pilot was gone, as if he had dissolved into thin air.

“If you need my help, sir, I can see if anyone up in Thornfield can come down.” She nodded at the large, sleek building in front of them. Made of glass and metal, Thornfield Publishing twinkled against the concrete of the street below. It was a beacon of high standards for all publishing companies in New York. That said, Jane had only worked there about three months now and she was wary about dragging an injured stranger through the doors of such a prestige company, but she couldn’t leave him alone in the street. She turned her attention back to the man after deciding it best to bring him into Thornfield.

The man’s brow was folded down in concentration. “Thank you. I can manage. I’m sure it’s just a sprain, and besides, it isn’t that far.” He didn’t seem to have convinced himself as he began hobbling across the road, grunting as he went along.

He wasn’t extraordinarily tall, with a wide chest and broad shoulders. His face was stern and dark, surely from years of frowning and worry. He appeared older than her, definitely middle-aged. If he had been handsome or heroic in any way, she might have stopped herself from pushing any further, but she wasn’t afraid of him. If anything, she was annoyed by his outward coarseness.

She supported him with an arm. “I can’t leave you now. You’re hurt and it wouldn’t feel right. At least let me help you up into the building. ” At this, he chose to keep his protest to a whisper, grumbling mild frustrations as they moved away from the car.

“What’s your name?” He begun.

“Jane.” She was distracted as she watched both sides of the street.

“What are you doing out here at this time of day? Don’t you work?” He asked.

“Yes, I do. I work up at Thornfield Publishing.” He scrunched his brow.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a secretary.” She considered her response a moment. “Well, really, more of a babysitter, now.” She helped him up the first of the steps.

“Babysitter? Who are you babysitting?”

“Adele. The daughter of the company’s owner. He’s away a lot and he doesn’t have anyone else to watch her, so the task has fallen to me, it seems.”

“The owner of the company? Really?”

“Yes. His name is Edward Rochester. Supposedly a frightening man, but that depends on who you ask. As for me, I don’t think he’s quite as scary as people make him out to be.”
“Have you ever met him, then?” Jane shrugged.

“Well, no.” He pursed his lips.
“You work for him and babysit his daughter, yet you say you’ve never met the man? Who hired you, then?” Jane was tired of the twenty questions game the man seemed insistent on playing with her.

“He’s very busy. He doesn’t do everything personally, you know.”

“So he didn’t hire you?” Jane sighed.

“Well, I’m sure he had something to do with it but no, he didn’t interview me himself. The woman who did called herself Mrs. Fairfax. She was an older woman. Nice. Capable.” The man finally grasped the fact that Jane was not in the mood to talk and kept quiet the rest of the way.

By the time they reached the main doors, she had retrieved her I.D. card and he had squirmed out of her grip. When the doors were open he put one foot through the door frame and looked back at her. “I guess I shouldn’t keep you from your work. Who knows, maybe we’ll meet again, Jane.” She watched him limp his way into the lobby before bouncing down the steps.

“Yeah, maybe so.” She muttered to air, skipping across the street into the coffee shop. It was full of sunlight, which streamed in through the open front windows. There was no one inside except for the barista, John Rivers. They had come to know each other well since she started working at Thornfield. She stepped up to the counter, raising herself onto her toes. Upon seeing the small tidied woman, John turned to the back coffee maker and began preparing her order, one he had already familiarized himself with.

“Thank you, John.” She said, turning to sit down at a nearby table.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” He turned over his shoulder a moment to look her up and down. “You don’t look so good today. What’s up?”

“Oh, it’s just been a crazy morning. Guy got in a wreck just up the road from here. I was able to help him, luckily.” John nodded.

“Looks like you got stuck with the busy work again, too.” He was referencing the mindless errands that she was frequently in charge of. “You could be doing so much more.”

“Yeah, I know. You tell me every day.” He set the first cup down on the front counter.

“You could be a CEO. Someday.” At that, Jane began to laugh.

“No, I don’t think so. CEO’s are powerful and commanding. Important, beautiful…” At this, Jane stopped herself. She had never pretended that she was extraordinary in looks or stature. She was poor, obscure, plain, and little. This was obvious to most anyone who met her. Though she might not stand out against a crowd, Jane was as deserving as anyone else.

“I think you’d do well here, Jane. There’s always a job for you.” He interrupted her thoughts, redirecting her to the matter at hand.

“No, Thornfield was a hard job to get. Sorry. Maybe someday.” He simply nodded and finished the drinks. Jane stood, smoothed her skirt, and retrieved the coffee tray. “Thank you, John. I know you mean well.” She leaned in over the counter, placing a small kiss on his cheek.

“Goodbye, Jane. I’ll see you tomorrow?”  

“Of course. Nobody at Thornfield gets coffee as well as I do.” With that, she left the shop. She didn’t like admitting it, but she agreed with John. She knew that she could do more, be more. She had laid many a night, dreaming about what her life would look like someday. She saw herself as a doctor, a writer, an artist, a lawyer, a journalist. Never did she dream of being a secretary. However, she didn’t complain. Jane knew that if she wanted to make an impact in the world, she would have to climb the ladder, even though she hated the idea. She couldn’t help that this was the world she lived in. She pulled herself from her reverie as she pushed the door to the shop open, resting the drinks against her chest.

She jogged across the street, balancing trays of coffee in each hand. Once she was inside the front lobby of Thornfield, she had to avoid being knocked off her feet. People were in a frenzy. Front office secretaries were making frantic phone calls. Heads of staff were running down the stairs, pacing back and forth in the foyer. Mrs. Fairfax was in the middle of the lobby, on the phone with someone. Jane set the coffee down on the front marble desk and listened in.

“I need someone here now … See, he needs to be looked at … No, he isn’t … We need him in top condition … I don’t have the time to-- … What do you mean, ‘Sounds like a me problem’ … Jose, I swear to God … I’m paying you to drive this man around and you’re telling me no? ... Fine. Have fun finding a new job!” With that, she slammed the phone down onto the counter. “Oh, Jane. Good. I need a pick me up.” She blindly grabbed a cup from the tray and began to chug. She had downed half of the drink when her eyes widened and she threw the cup to the desk, turning frantically to Jane. “I need you. Now!” Mrs. Fairfax pulled Jane by the wrist, dragging her into the tight elevator next to the main front stairs.

“What? What’s happened?” Fairfax waved a hand, silently demanding that Jane shut her mouth. She nodded and simply allowed the elevator to deliver them to their unknown destination. They reached the very twelfth, and top, story of the building. The entire floor was only one room with a pair of large double wooden doors. Jane had never been here before but it wasn’t hard to guess where they were. Fairfax stood with her back to the door and grabbed Jane’s shoulders.

“Look, he’s specifically asked to see you. You have to go in there.” Fairfax was manic.

“Who are we talking about?” At this, Fairfax let out a nervous laugh.

“What do you mean? I’m talking about Edward Rochester. CEO, owner of the company? Ring any bells? He asked for you by name. He limped in this morning, said that he got in a car wreck. His leg is definitely sprained. Now, he wants to see you. It’s all a big mystery.”

“He got in a car wreck, you said? Sprained his leg?” Fairfax sighed.

“Yes. Is there a problem?” Jane’s eyes widened.

“No, no, no. Don’t do that. He can smell fear.”

“No, I’m not scared. It’s just that--”  

“Look, I don’t care. Just take a breath and get in there.” Jane nodded, before pushing open the large wooden door that led to Mr. Rochester’s office. Mrs. Fairfax followed closely behind. He was sitting behind a mahogany desk with his leg propped up by another chair. He had a smug smile on his face as he watched Jane enter the office. She strode up to his desk, placing a hand on her hip.

“This is the only Jane in the building, sir. Is this the young woman you requested to see?” Mrs. Fairfax called from the door.

“Yes, this is the right one. Thank you, Mrs. Fairfax. That’ll be all.” She nodded and left the room, slamming the door behind her. “Would you like some coffee, Jane?”

“What?” She snapped. His smile widened.

“Coffee. Would you like some coffee?” Jane closed her eyes a moment, silently reminding herself that this was, in fact, her boss and the owner of the company she worked for. This interaction could make or break her career. Then again, she had already made her first impression to him, even if she hadn’t known it at the time.

“Yes. Thank you, sir.” He picked up the phone from the edge of his desk, dialing a number. His smile never dropped as he brought the phone to his lips.

“Mrs. Fairfax. Bring up two cups of coffee for Miss Jane and myself.” Fairfax’s voice came faintly from the other end of the phone. “Also, bring Adele with you, please.” Mrs. Fairfax talked another moment before the two hung up. Mr. Rochester turned back to Jane, studying the look in her eyes as she looked him up and down.

“You have questions.” He began nonchalantly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Here we go again, Jane thought.

“You know what. Why didn’t you tell me that you were Edward Rochester.”

“You would have treated me differently if you’d known. I didn’t want that. I wanted honesty.” He chuckled to himself as he watched Jane’s brow furrow. “And it seems that you are honestly very frustrated with me.”

“Of course I am. You--” Jane restrained herself, letting her statement die in her throat. She took a breath and smiled. “I was just frustrated that you wouldn’t let me help you.”

“See, there you go lying to me.” He shook his head in mock disappointment.

“You just seem … strange to me. I haven’t made my mind up about you yet.”
“Hmmm. I see. At the very least, do you think me handsome?”

“Not particularly, no.” Jane answered frankly.

“Really?” Edward blinked a moment, looking down at his feet.

“Should I have lied to you?” She asked, eyeing him.

“No, no. I appreciate your frankness.” He chuckled a moment and returned his eyes to Jane’s face.

“You shouldn’t disturb Adele at this hour. She might be reading or napping.” Interjected Jane before Rochester could have a chance to continue.

“Reading? My Adele? You really are a miracle worker.” She scoffed.

“Do you have no faith in your own daughter?”

“It’s not that. It has to do with ability and, well, Adele is…”

“Brilliant.” She added.  

“If you say so, Jane. Is there something else you’d like me to call you? It doesn’t seem that you’re very fond of the whole ‘first names’ thing.” She shook her head.

“Whatever you like, sir.”

“Please, call me Edward.” This man’s boldness was enchanting and nauseating to her in equal measures.

Before she could get another word in, there was a knock on the door. Jane turned and Rochester perched up in his seat. Mrs. Fairfax shuffled into the room with Adele attached to her waist. Adele’s brown hair was curled up in delicate ribbons that matched the frilly dress she wore. Rochester invited them further into the room. Mrs. Fairfax sat in the far corner, pulling Adele up into her lap. There was a stack of paper in Fairfax’s hand which she started rifling through as Adele played with the hem of her dress.

Edward watched the little girl as she mindlessly twiddled her thumbs. He sighed deeply and held an arm out, a silent okay for her to hug him. She slid off of Fairfax’s lap, rushing around Edward’s large desk. As she came near his injured foot, he winced preemptively, but she cleared it before grabbing his middle.

The little girl began rapidly speaking French. “Papa. Papa. N’est-ce pas, monsieur, qu’il y a un cadeau pour Mademoiselle Eyre, dans votre petit coffre?” Edward continued to watch Jane, seemingly ignoring Adele as she rambled on.

“Do you understand what she’s saying?” He inquired, grinning.

“She’s saying something about a present. Something you might have brought back from your trip.” He laughed gruffly at this.

“She speaks of presents. Did you expect a present, Jane?” Her brow creased as she grew confused by this simple question. “Are you fond of gifts?”

“They’re usually enjoyable, I suppose. I don’t have much experience with them.”

“Perhaps, but you must have some kind of opinion about them.” The two studied each other, as though they were in a conversational standoff.

“I’d have to give it some thought, sir. A present can be many different types of things, can’t it? It’s only fair to consider a thing properly before I make an opinion for myself.”

“You’re much more sophisticated than Adele. Listen to her rambling on about gifts; you beat around the bush about it.” Jane smirked at the playful accusation.

“I’m not as confident as Adele about these things. She’s your daughter, you’ve known her all of her life. She also has the right of custom, so to speak, since she says that you have brought her playthings on your past trips. Whereas, I would hardly be able to justify myself. I’m a stranger to you and I don’t see any reason why I’ve earned a reward from you.” At this, Rochester fell back against his seat in hearty laughter. He shooed Adele away as he leaned forward on his desk, maneuvering around his leg. The little girl rushed back to the corner, crawling into Mrs. Fairfax’s lap.

“Don’t be modest. I’ve seen the work you have done with Adele. She’s not brilliant, she’s not talented, and yet in the short time she’s spent with you, I can see that she has made much improvement.” Jane pushed down her need to protest.

“Well, then. I’ll consider that my gift, sir. Every teacher wants to be praised for their pupil’s progress. I’m honored.” He scoffed and took a long swig of his untouched coffee.

“I thought you said you were merely a babysitter.”
“I did. I suppose I’m more to her than that. You may not have sent her to school yet, but that doesn’t mean that the child can’t learn something.” Edward nodded and drank in silence.

Adele moved from Fairfax’s lap to Jane’s, coming around and sitting close against the woman. With a bit of effort, the little girl picked up a paperweight from Edward’s desk and began rolling it around in her hands. She continued on in French, pointing out things in the room that she liked. She showed Jane her favorite chair, Edward’s books, knick knacks on high shelves, and the view from the window.

Rochester pushed back out of his chair and limped to where the girl had pointed. Without a beat of hesitation, Jane scooted Adele back to Fairfax and rushed to his side. This time, he allowed her to support him with an arm. He was silent, giving Jane a moment to take in the view.

The sun peeked through the spaces between buildings, sparkling against the glass and metal of the city. In comparison to the skyscrapers which stood over all other structures, Thornfield was miniscule. From the top floor the street seemed like it had shrunk below them. There were few cars parked on the edges of the road and not a soul in sight.

“You’ve been working for me three months now, right?” Jane turned her attention to him.

“Yes, sir.”

“Where did you come from?”

“I’ve been living at Lowood.”

“A boarding school, if I remember,” Jane nodded. “How long were you there?”

“Eight years.”

“My God. Eight years. That explains it, I suppose. When I saw you for the first time, I couldn’t help but think that you looked like you were from a different place. People in private schooling often have that look. Trust me, I’ve known plenty. A look like they’ve never been part of the real world. Who are your parents?”
“I don’t have any.”

“No? Someone had to have given birth to you. Do you remember them from when you were young.”

“No.”

“You have to have some kind of family. Any uncles, aunts?”

“No one that I’ve ever met.”

“What about a home?”

“I have none.”
“Where do your brothers and sisters live?”

“I don’t have any siblings.” The other scoffed and watched the street below.

“How did you hear about the job?”

“There was an advertisement in the paper. I called, Mrs. Fairfax hired me.”

“Yes,” Fairfax spoke up. Jane and Edward turned to face her. She was looking through paperwork and stroking Adele’s back. “It’s a good thing I did, too. She’s been invaluable to me. And Adele loves her. She’s so kind and good--”

“Don’t try and give her a character,” Rochester snapped. “I can judge her for myself. We met because I got in a car wreck.” Fairfax jerked towards him at hearing this.

“Sir?”

“She took her sweet time getting me out of there. I might have her to thank for this sprain.” At this comment, Jane huffed with frustration, causing Edward to chuckle before continuing his conversation.

“Have you ever lived in a big city, Jane?”

“No, sir.”

“Have you seen much society?”

“The only society I’ve seen was among the students and teachers at Lowood. I suppose Thornfield as well.”

“Do you read much?”

“Only the books that have crossed my path and there haven’t been a lot.”

“You live like a nun. I’m sure you grew up religiously. Brocklehurst, who I believe directs Lowood, is a priest, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“I’m sure you worshipped him in your time there.”

“Oh, definitely not.”

“No? A religious novice who doesn’t worship her priest? Sounds blasphemous.”

“It’s not a convent. It’s a school. I hated Brocklehurst and I wasn’t the only one that felt that way. He was harsh, pompous. He chopped off all of our hair and, for economy’s sake, never replaced our supplies. The books I did read were always half scribbled through by some 13 year old boy with an immature sense of humor.” Edward chuckled as though he were one of those boys, causing Jane to roll her eyes.

“Was that his only offense?” Rochester asked.

“He starved us and only because he didn’t want to spend the money to feed us. He bored us with long weekly lectures. He read to us every evening from books of his choosing. They were often about death and firy judgement, which made us afraid to go to bed.”

“How old were you when you went to Lowood?”

“About ten.”

“And you stayed there eight years. You’re eighteen, then?” Jane nodded. “You learned math, obviously. It’s more important than they say it is. Take for instance, the way I knew your age.” Jane chuckled. “What else did you learn there?”

“I learned reading and writing. Not much else, other than the Bible.”

“How exactly did you get hired here? You don’t seem particularly extraordinary in any way. There were plenty of other suitable candidates.” His words cut her to the quick.

“You’re the boss. You can fire me any moment.” She kept her face neutral, watching Edward as he studied her face.

“That’s true. No, I think I’ll keep you around. For a little while longer, anyways.” Jane nodded, but said nothing. Studying her face, Edward was struck with a pang of guilt and sympathy for this little woman that stood before him. He redirected the conversation in hopes of lifting her spirits a bit.

“Your school sounds a little old fashioned. Scratch that, it sounds really old fashioned.”

“It is. Old teaching, old morals. That’s why I might appear a bit old fashioned myself.” He shook his head.
“I hardly think so. You seem very forward thinking.” At this, Jane chuckled.

“Adele showed me some sketches this morning. She said they were yours. I’m not sure they were entirely yours. You must have had a teacher, right?” Jane raised her chin.

“I did not.” Rochester sat back in shock at Jane’s sudden burst of confidence.

“Oh, we’re proud, aren’t we? Well, let’s see that portfolio, then. That is, if you’re honest about their originality. I can spot a forgery quite easily, Miss Jane.” He winked and waited as Jane walked down the stairs, moving briskly as to not keep the man waiting. She retrieved a small folder from her desk drawer and stepped into the elevator, thumbing through her works. She didn’t want to show Edward any of her other things. She didn’t feel he deserved to see them. After his blunt analysis of her, she wasn’t all too ready to put her whole life at his feet. However, there was something in him that demanded everything from her, and she couldn’t bring herself to deny him this piece of herself. Thus, she found herself stepping back into his office, her portfolio tucked beneath her arm, ready to present it to him.

He was sitting back at his desk now. She moved to stand beside him, placing her art in front of him. “Judge for yourself, sir.” She added. As he began looking, Adele and Fairfax rose from their seats to peer at the pictures, as well.

“Don’t crowd.” He snapped, causing the two to step back. Edward deliberately examined each sketch and painting, causing Jane to hold her breath. She watched his eyes as he poured over her art, soaking in the depth of them. He laid three aside and threw the others to Fairfax and Adele. “Well, they’re all by the same person. Was it you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When did you find the time to do them? I can tell they took a decent amount of thought.”
“My last two vacations at Lowood, when I didn't have a job.”

“How did you come up with these.” Jane tapped her temple. “All this came from that head I see on your shoulders now?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are there other things in that brain? Other ideas like this, I mean?”

“I should certainly hope so, sir.”

He spread the three separate pieces out in front of him. The ones he had chosen were beautifully drawn landscapes. Flowing fields of wheat sprinkled with vibrant flowers, thick gray clouds over rolling seas, the pinnacle of an iceberg emerging against a wintery sky. He ran his hands over her brush work.

“Were you happy when you painted these?” Asked Rochester, continuing.

“I was absorbed and, I suppose I was happy, as well. Painting is one of the most pleasurable hobbies I’ve ever known.” He pursed his lips.

“That’s not saying much. According to you, your ‘pleasures’ have been few. Then again, looking at these, it does seem that you were lost in some kind of artists’ dreamland when you drew them. Did you work on these long every day?”
“I had nothing else to do. It was vacation. I was up from morning until night working on those.” He looked toward her.

“And do you like the way they turned out?”

“Hardly. They look nothing like the way I imagined them.”

“Not quite. Your thoughts must have had some say in how these turned out. For a school girl, they are peculiar. See how in this one, this bright star here has … they look like eyes, don’t they? How could you make them look so clear? Here, Fairfax. I’m done. Take these down, will you?” The woman stood, picking up the folder and making her exit. Edward looked at his watch.

“It’s 7:00. Why is it, Jane, that Adele isn’t packed and ready to go yet? Get going.” Adele rushed to kiss him before grabbing Jane by the hand, the two heading for the door.

“I hope you have a good night, then.” He waved his hand towards the door, silently telling them that he was tired of their company for the time being. Stepping outside of the office doors, Jane found Fairfax standing on the top steps, waiting for them.

“I thought you said Mr. Rochester wasn’t that strange, Mrs. Fairfax.” The older woman picked Adele up and walked the child down the stairs, Jane following closely behind.

“Well, is he?”

“I’m not sure. I know that he’s abrupt and unpredictable. Quite frankly, he’s a bit of an arrogant--” Jane remembered the child in Fairfax’s arms. “Well, I don’t think I need to say it.”  Mrs. Fairfax chuckled.

“He might seem that way to a stranger, but I’m so used to it, I hardly notice. Not to mention, if he’s in a bit of a mood, he should be allowed some room.” Jane’s brow creased.

“Why is that?”

“Well, partly because it’s simply in his nature and partly because he has painful memories that constantly haunt him. It’s not surprising.”

“Memories about what?”

“Family troubles, for one thing.”

“I heard he doesn’t have any family.”

“Not anymore, but he used to. He lost his older brother a few years ago.”

“His older brother?”

“Yes. Thornfield hasn’t belonged to Mr. Rochester for long, only about nine years, now.”

“Nine years is quite a bit of time. Did he love his brother that much? That he would still be mourning after all this time?”

“I suppose not. He and his brother were often at odds. Rowland, that was his brother, fought him on everything. When they heard that their father was dying, Rowland rushed to his side in order to get the man to change his will. In the final draft, Edward had no inheritance. Rowland and old man Rochester told him that he had to earn his wealth. They backed him into a corner, put him in an uncomfortable position in order for him to make his own fortune. I don’t know what that position was, but I know that he’s a broken man because of it. I’m sure you can tell that he’s not a very forgiving man, so he cut himself off from his family after their cruelness. However, Rowland had no will, so when he died, Thornfield went to Edward. He’s always hated this place, but he has no way to escape it.”

“Why should he hate Thornfield?”

“Maybe he thinks it’s gloomy.”

Fairfax’s answer was vague, but the woman wouldn’t give Jane any further information as to Edward’s life. Jane couldn’t deny her curiosity about Rochester’s apparent trials, but she knew not to push the old woman any further. It was obvious she wanted the subject to be dropped and Jane promptly obeyed. As they reached the bottom of the staircase, Jane looked back towards Edward’s office. Jane knew that she would be thinking of that man for days to come. She took Adele from Fairfax and left to get her things.