Bet Me

by Jennifer Crusie

  Damn it, Liza thought.

  “There will be retching,” Min said, and grinned back.

  “And in your case, I will throw up on your shoes,” Liza said to Tony, needing to yell at somebody.

  “What happens to me?” Roger asked Bonnie.

  “Wonderful things,” Bonnie said, slipping her arm into his.

  “I hate you,” Tony said to Roger. “You keep fucking up the curve.”

  Min laughed, and Cal watched her laugh, and Liza thought, Oh, no. He looked like a man with a goal, and she knew what it was. I catch you with a snow globe, buddy, she thought, and you are dead meat.

  Cal glanced over at her and froze. “What?” he said.

  “Nothing,” Liza said and smiled at him with intent. “Nothing at all.”

  “Who’s the lucky woman tonight?” Shanna said when Cal went to the bar for refills.

  “No woman,” Cal said. “I’m resting. How’s Elvis? Still singing ‘She’ on permanent rotation?”

  “Don’t knock Elvis. If he was a girl, I’d marry him.” She craned her head to look around Cal. “I see the Goon Brothers and two women. Let me guess. The tall skinny redhead is yours.”

  “No,” Cal said. “Refills all around for them, Scotch for me.”

  Shanna looked past him again. “You’re with the little blonde in the blue? She looks vacant to me.”

  “Misleading,” Cal said. “But no, not her, either. She’s Roger’s.”

  “Then where—” Shanna began.

  “Hi,” Min said from behind him, and he turned, smiling automatically. “I completely understand your need to flirt with the bartender, but Tony sent me to remind you to hurry.”

  Shanna leaned over the bar and stuck her hand out to Min. “Hi, I’m Shanna, Cal’s next-door neighbor.”

  Min looked surprised but took it. “I’m Min.” She hesitated, and then she leaned over the bar. “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “Oh, please do,” Shanna said, looking deep into her eyes.

  “Excuse me?” Cal said, not sure whether he was annoyed or turned on that Shanna was hitting on Min in front of him.

  “You have the most beautiful hair,” Min said, ignoring him. “How do you keep it from frizzing?”

  “I don’t wash it,” Shanna said. “Just rinse and condition it. It’ll never frizz on you again.”

  “You’re kidding,” Min said. “I’m going to try that. I’m so sick of pinning my hair up that I’ll try anything.”

  “Well, come back in when you let it down,” Shanna said. “I want to see it.”

  Me, too, Cal thought.

  “I will do that,” Min said. “Thank you.” She turned back to Cal. “Do you need help carrying the drinks?”

  “Yes,” Cal said before Shanna could say “No” and hand him a tray.

  “I’ll be right back then,” Min said, and went over to the jukebox.

  Cal leaned on the bar as he watched her cross the room. “Get those drinks, babe.”

  “Tell me she’s bi,” Shanna said, watching Min, too. “The things she could do with that mouth . . .”

  “The things I could do with that mouth,” Cal said. The things I have done with that mouth. He felt a little dizzy again. Well, it was warm in the bar.

  “I’ll get those drinks,” Shanna said and left while Cal watched Min flip cards on the jukebox. He focused on the gorgeous curve of her neck as she read the song titles. She looked juicy, bitable there, and that set off a whole new train of thought that he told himself was all right as long as he didn’t do anything about it.

  When Shanna came back with six glasses and mugs on a tray, she said, “So how long have you been seeing her?”

  “I met her a week ago, but we’re not—”

  “Early yet.” Shanna nodded. “She’s got another month, probably two before you wander off. Tell her nice things about me so I can lay a foundation.”

  “For what?” Cal said.

  “She’s going to need comforting when you tell her to have a nice life. I will be that comfort. Are you sleeping with her yet?”

  “I’m not even dating her,” Cal said as Min fed some coins into the jukebox and punched in some numbers. “Give me my Scotch. I think we’re going to be listening to Elvis Presley and I will need it.”

  “Not dating her, huh? Good news for me.” Shanna slid his glass across to him.

  Cal shook his head. “No. She does not play for your team. And you’re still grief-stricken, remember?”

  “I’m feeling much better,” Shanna said, as “The Devil in Disguise” boomed out of the jukebox. “How do you know she doesn’t play for my team?”

  “I kissed her. She plays for mine. Although not for me.”

  “Not for you, huh?” Shanna took two fives from her pocket and slapped them on the bar. “I got ten bucks says you can’t kiss her again right here.”

  “No kidding.” Cal laughed at the thought of the damage Min would do to him if he tried. “Also no bet.”

  Shanna tilted her head. “Okay. I got ten bucks says you can kiss her right here.”

  “I’ve explained this to you,” Cal said. “You have to figure the odds and then take the side that’s probable. You don’t just flip a coin.”

  Shanna tapped her finger on the two fives. “Ten says you can do it.”

  “What’s with you?” Cal said. “When did you turn into somebody who likes to watch?”

  “I’m just—” Shanna began.

  “Hey,” Min said, from behind Cal, startling them both. “I thought you weren’t going to bet on me anymore.”

  Cal looked down at her exasperated face. Her lush lower lip stuck out a little, not enough for a pout but enough to remind him of why he’d been staying away from her. “I never said that. Besides, what makes you think I’m—”

  “You’re both staring at me and there’s money on the bar,” Min said. “We’ve been here before.” Her eyes were dark, crackling with heat now as she scowled at him, and he began to breathe a little faster, remembering.

  “He didn’t make the bet,” Shanna said. “I did. In fact, he—”

  Cal took a ten out of his pocket and slapped it on the bar over Shanna’s two fives. “You’re on,” he said, and leaned down to Min.

  Chapter Seven

  “Oh, yeah, he’s innocent,” Min said and then stopped as Cal leaned closer, giving her plenty of time to back away.

  Her eyes widened and her lips parted, and she said, “Uh,” and then he kissed her, gently, wanting to remember every second this time, the way she felt and tasted, soft and sweet, and he felt her suck in her breath, and then she kissed him back, giving him everything again, and the voice in his head said, THIS ONE, and he forgot his good intentions and cradled her face in his hand and lost himself in her.

  When he broke the kiss, her eyes were half-closed and her cheeks were flushed. “Did you win?” she said, breathless, and he said, “Yes,” and kissed her again, harder this time, feeling her hand clutch his shirt, and then something smacked him on the back of the head and knocked him into her, and she jerked away and said, “Ouch. Ouch.”

  “Damn it,” he said, swinging around to face Liza. “Stop doing that.”

  “I will if you will,” she said.

  “No, really,” Min said, sounding dazed. “It was okay. It was just another bet.”

  “Scum,” Liza said.

  “Look,” Cal said, trying to catch his breath. “Min can take care of herself.”

  Liza stepped closer. “Yeah, tell me you know her. Tell me you care about her. Tell me you’re going to love her until the end of time.”

  “What is it with you?” Cal said. “I kissed her. It happens.”

  Shanna picked up the twenty bucks on the bar. “And I, for one, am very grateful you did. Thank you very much,”

  “I thought you won,” Min said to Cal. Her eyes were hot, and she was breathing faster, too.

  “I did,” Cal said, falling back into her. “I just lost the bet.”


  “Come on, Stats,” Liza said, pulling on her arm.

  “Right,” Min said, shaking her head a little as if to clear it. “Did anybody see that?”

  “The entire bar was holding up numbers,” Liza said. “It was like the Olympics.”

  “How’d we do?” Cal said, putting an edge on his voice as he cooled off.

  “The Russian judge thought you needed work,” Liza said. “There was hooting.”

  “Well, the Russians are tough,” Cal said. “Could you let go of her, please?”

  “I don’t think so,” Liza said and tugged Min’s arm again.

  “I should go back,” Min said to Cal. “You know. Because of the plan.”

  “What plan?” Cal said.

  “Not dating. Taking a break. Remember? Both of us?”

  “Right,” Cal said, thinking, Why did I think that was a good idea?“ The plan. Waiting for Elvis. Great.” He picked up his Scotch again. “Here’s to the plan.”

  “Yeah, well, have a nice life.” Min picked up the tray of drinks and followed Liza back to the table.

  “So the tall redhead hates you,” Shanna said.

  “Liza,” Cal said. “I have never done a thing to that woman.”

  “I think it’s what you want to do to her friend,” Shanna said. “Still, it does seem like an overreaction. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “Like what?” Cal said. “I am innocent on this one.” No, I’m not.

  “No, you’re not,” Shanna said. “I saw that kiss. And you’re right. She plays for your team.”

  “Not anymore,” Cal said, feeling the back of his head. “We agreed on a plan. Not dating.” He gestured with his glass. “I’m going to drink this and then go home for aspirin.”

  “That’s not going to help,” Shanna said. “Try a cold shower, too.”

  “Good to see you’ve got your sense of humor back,” Cal said, and went home to find some peace and painkillers.

  That week, Min began screening her calls to duck David, who had developed a pressing need to talk to her, but she didn’t need to screen for Cal, who remained annoyingly silent. It was really frustrating avoiding the calls of somebody who didn’t have the decency to pick up a phone. Even the If Dinner turned annoying when Liza told them about meeting Cal’s ex-girlfriend.

  “Cynthie says he’s a great guy,” Liza said. “He’s just caught up in some kind of pathology where he has to make women love him and then leave him. He got conditional love as a child and now he’s desperate for it.”

  Min frowned. “He does not strike me as desperate.”

  Bonnie shook her head. “Me, either. The ex sounds sort of over the top.”

  “Well, she’s a psychologist,” Liza said. “You know how they are. But it does explain why he’d leave such a string of broken hearts behind him and still be the guy we know. I’m suspicious of him but I don’t think he’s cruel. He wouldn’t enjoy dumping them.” She looked back at Min. “Cynthie said one of the things he’d do would be to find things you needed and give them to you. I told her about your snow globes, and she said you should brace yourself for incoming.”

  “He brought me a cat,” Min said, and Liza put down her fork.

  “A cat?” Liza said. “He must be losing his touch. That should have been a snow globe. Where is this cat?”

  “Bedroom,” Min said and Liza got up and went to look. When she came back she said, “It’s the cat from hell. What was he thinking?”

  Min shrugged, not wanting to argue. “He brought me takeout from Emilio’s and it followed him in. And then he saw the snow globes.”

  “And?” Liza said.

  “And he told me I collect couples,” Min said. “Which I had never seen before, but he’s right.”

  Liza opened her mouth to object and then got up and went to the mantel. “I’ll be damned,” she said after a moment. “They’re all couples except mine, unless Captain Hook is dating Maleficent on the sly. How’d I miss this?”

  “Better question is how’d he get it?” Bonnie said.

  Min shook her head. “I think he’s just really, really, really good with people. Empathetic.” She hesitated and then said to Bonnie, “After you said he was dyslexic, I researched it on the net. There are all kinds of barriers—”

  “Do not feel sorry for him,” Liza said.

  “I don’t,” Min said. “Are you kidding? Look at him, he has it all. But he’s had to work for it. Anyway, one of the aspects of dyslexics is that they’re often very empathetic. That’s Cal. He spends all his time looking outward, making sure he understands other people. I don’t think he has much self-knowledge, but he makes sure he knows the people in his world. He knows me.”

  Liza put the villains down with a clunk and came back to the table. “No, he doesn’t. He’s trying—”

  “No,” Min said, losing patience with her. “We talked about my weight. He said I dress like I hate my body.”

  “Good for him,” Liza said. “I mean, he’s a beast, but he’s right on that one. What did he say exactly?”

  Min pushed her plate away. “Lots of things, but the gist was that I had a sexy body and I should dress like I’m proud of it.”

  “Then he asked you to bed,” Liza said.

  “No, then he said we should eat,” Min said. “Oh, and he told me what I was doing wrong on the chicken marsala, so I’m going to try it again.”

  “He brought you food, understood your snow globes, taught you to cook, said you had a sexy body, and left without making a pass,” Bonnie said.

  Min nodded.

  Bonnie looked at Liza. “He is a beast.”

  “No, this is what Cynthie was talking about,” Liza said. “He will fulfill her every need until she falls for him and then he’ll leave.”

  Min bit her lip. “Look, I’m not falling for him, although I swear every time he kisses me, I hear voices and see stars. If nothing else, there’s that bet. Which I asked him about and which he lied about, so it’s over. Really.”

  “Uh huh,” Liza said, clearly not convinced.

  Neither was Min, so on Friday afternoon while she was at work, she very sensibly decided not to go to The Long Shot that night and called her sister instead. “I want to go shopping.”

  “Shopping?” Di said.

  “Somebody told me that I dress like I hate my body.”

  “You do,” Di said. “You want to change? Yes.”

  “Just a little,” Min said, hastily. “I—”

  “I know where we’ll go,” Diana said. “We’re going to transform you!”

  “No,” Min said. “Soften a little, maybe, but not—”

  “I’ll be waiting out front at five,” Di said. “This is going to be so much fun.”

  “Well,” Min said, but Di had already hung up. “Oh. Well. All right.”

  She hung up and decided not to worry about transformation until she was actually in Diana’s clutches. She went back to finishing up her work week, and then, as she was putting on her jacket to go meet Di, the phone rang. When she answered, a woman said, “My name is Elizabeth Morrisey, and I’m looking for a Min Dobbs who met my son Harrison at Cherry Hill Park a week ago.”

  “Bink?” Min said, dumbfounded.

  “Yes,” the woman said. “Oh, good. I’m so sorry to bother you at work, but I couldn’t find a home listing. Just a moment.” Min heard the phone clunk a little, and then Harry came on. “Min?” he said, breathing hard into the phone.

  “Yes,” she said, grinning. “How are you, Harry?”

  “I’m fine. Are you coming to the park tomorrow?”

  “Well, I wasn’t—”

  “Because you could come to my game,” Harry said, showing an ability to focus that was much like his uncle’s. “It’s at ten o’clock. In the morning. And we could have a doughnut.”

  “Well,” Min said, taken aback.

  Harry breathed into the phone again. He sounded like Darth Vader, only smaller.

  “Sure,” she said.
“Why not? I’ll get the doughnuts—”

  “My mom’ll get them,” Harry said. “I told her what kind.”

  “Well, good,” Min said, regrouping. “Thank you for—”

  Harry dropped the phone, and Min heard Bink say, “Say good-bye politely, Harry,” and Harry came back on and said, “Good-bye,” and dropped the phone again.

  “Hello?” Bink said when she’d picked it up.

  “Hello,” Min said, trying not to laugh.

  “We’re still working on our phone skills,” Bink said.

  “He did pretty good,” Min said. “Except for the breathing.”

  “I appreciate this,” Bink said. “Harry has spoken of you often this week.”

  “He has?” Min said, surprised.

  “And your shoes,” Bink said.

  “He’s a lot like his uncle,” Min said.

  “We can only hope,” Bink said. “Tomorrow at ten, then?”

  “Tomorrow at ten,” Min said and sat for a moment after Bink hung up.

  That hadn’t been Cal’s idea. If he’d wanted her there, he’d have called her. He probably didn’t even know she was coming. She finished putting on her jacket and thought about surprising him the next day. It would be good to take him off guard for a change, catch him flatfooted.

  She picked up her purse and went down to meet Diana, suddenly interested in being transformed.

  The next morning, Cal was watching a particularly hopeless outfielder named Bentley try to throw a ball when two cool hands covered his eyes from behind. He smelled lavender and cinnamon and felt a rush of pleasure so intense, he almost sighed. “This is not like you, Minnie,” he said, and then he turned and saw Cynthie, like a cold shower, pulling her hands back. “Cyn?”

  “Hi,” Cynthie said.

  “Sorry,” Cal said, taking a step back. “You wear the same perfume as a friend of mine. Except she doesn’t wear perfume, come to think of it.” Nor does she come to these damn games, he thought, mad at himself for making such a stupid mistake.

  “Perfume,” Cynthie said, looking poleaxed.

  “So,” Cal said, taking another step back. “How’ve you been?” A ball rolled past his feet and he bent to pick it up. “You should get back to the other side of the fence. These kids have no control.”