“Oh fuck,” he said and when the doorbell rang, he yanked it open, prepared to deck Shanna if she was going to yap about Min anymore.
It was Cyn, looking hot as hell in her blue halter top and short black skirt. She tilted her head up at him and her glossy black hair swung back. “I know you’re upset,” she said, softly. “I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I’m all right,” he said, as she stepped closer.
“No, you’re not,” she said. “She hit you hard.” She held up a bottle of Glenlivet. “Come on, talk about it. You’ll feel better.”
She’ll do anything I ask, Cal thought. And the world is full of women like her. Why do I need Min?
Cynthie smiled up at him, lovely and warm. “Do I get to come in?”
“No,” Cal said. “I have to make a phone call.”
Chapter Fifteen
Cynthie said, “I can wait,” and he remembered Min saying, “You get to know the real us and then you leave us.” Cynthie smiled up at him, her heart in her eyes, and he thought, Oh, hell.
He shook his head at her. “I’m sorry. Somebody explained to me what I’ve done to you. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to hurt anybody, but I never meant to marry you, either.”
Cynthie took a deep breath and nodded. “That’s all right, I can wait—”
“There’s somebody else,” Cal said, as gently as he could. “I’m sorry, but I’m in love with somebody else.”
She flinched. “No. You love me.”
“I never said that. You know that.”
“Yes, but you do.” Her hands gripped the bottle tighter. “You don’t realize it, but you do. We’re perfect for each other.”
He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t see how desperate she was.
“It’s Min,” Cynthie said. “I know it’s Min. Look, she’s a nice woman, but she’s not me.”
“I know,” Cal said. “That’s the problem.” Cynthie’s face twisted, and he said, “I’m sorry, Cyn.”
He shut the door in her face and leaned against the door for a moment, trying not to think about how much damage he’d done to her, not even wanting to think about anybody else.
Except Min.
Fix this, he told himself and sat down to figure out a way.
At about the same time Shanna was reading Cal the riot act, Min was listening to Liza say, “This is really good,” as she speared the last marsala-soaked mushroom at Min’s dining room table. Then Liza said, “Tell me again why we’re doing this.”
“Because we always had chicken marsala on Tuesday nights,” Min said, stabbing her chicken with no enthusiasm as Elvis prowled about her ankles, impatient for leftovers. “I’m trying to cloud the association.”
“Very practical,” Liza said. “Except you’re miserable, so there’s not enough cloud in the world, babe.”
“May I have the butter, please?” Diana said, picking up another piece of bread from Emilio’s.
Bonnie pushed the butter dish her way. “Have you heard from him?” she asked Min.
“Of course not,” Min said, revving up her anger again so she wouldn’t have to think about how she’d been waiting for a phone call for two days. “He’s mad at me. Can you believe it? He’s mad at me. Did I make a bet? Noooo. But he’s—”
“Oh, please, no more of this,” Liza said. “You’ve bitched about him for two days. Face it, the man has a point.”
Min put down her fork, and Diana stopped buttering her bread.
“He does not have a point,” Min snapped. “This whole mess is because he does not have a point and now you’re turning on me? It’s not enough that Bonnie sandbagged me with that fairy tale garbage, now you—”
“It’s not garbage,” Bonnie said. “You got the fairy tale. You got the handsome prince who loved you. It worked.”
“It did not work,” Min said, slamming her hand down on the table. “He went into a snit and left. Just my luck, I get a snitty prince. Which is why he wasn’t a prince. Which is why I don’t believe that garbage. I do not believe in the fairy tale, okay?”
“I don’t think it matters,” Bonnie said, mild as ever. “The fairy tale believes in you.”
Min turned to Liza. “Tell her.”
Liza leaned her elbow on the table. “She’s right.”
Min flopped back in her chair. “Oh, for crying out loud. If this wasn’t my apartment, I’d leave.”
“Well, look at it from his point of view,” Liza said. “He didn’t make the bet. He tried not to date you, but he had to keep coming back because he was nuts about you, and you kept kissing him and then turning him down. He was patient, he charmed your parents, he was good to your friends, he found your snow globe, he taught you to cook, he got you a cat, for Christ’s sake, and then it turns out that while he was knocking himself out for you, you were playing him for a fool.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Min said, but her anger cooled considerably.
“He really is a sweetie,” Diana said, licking butter off her lip.
“Liza’s right,” Bonnie said. “You know how awful school was for all three of these boys. They’re all sensitive about being dumb. You hit Cal right on his sore spot, in front of his friends, in front of Cynthie, in front of David.”
“Ouch,” Min said faintly. She tried to summon up her old outrage over the bet, but after two days of venting, she’d been running out of steam anyway.
“I know you needed to be mad to deal with the pain,” Liza said. “I do that, too. But if you want him back, get over it. Because if there wasn’t a bet—”
“There wasn’t,” Min said miserably. “I believe him on that.”
“Then he’s given you everything and you haven’t given him a damn thing.”
“That’s pretty harsh,” Bonnie said to Liza.
“Why didn’t you just ask him about the bet?” Liza said.
“I did,” Min said.
“You said, ‘Did you make a bet with David that you could sleep with me in a month?’ ”
“No,” Min said, not meeting her eyes. “I asked him if there was anything he wasn’t telling me.”
Bonnie nodded. “And what did he say?”
Min sat back. “He kept confessing to things that weren’t the bet.”
“That must have been fun for everyone,” Liza said. “Why didn’t you flat out ask him?”
Min put her head in her hands. “I was afraid, okay? You know how all those people say, ‘If they just talked about their problems, they’d all go away’? Well, I bet none of those people talk about their problems. I mean, it sounds good, but it’s a terrible gamble.” She looked up at Liza. “I knew he made that bet. I heard him. And I . . .” She stopped and swallowed. “I knew I only had a month and I wanted that month with him.” She shook her head. “Not everybody faces life head-on the way that you do.”
“Well, they should,” Liza said. “You screwed up. So now you’re going to have to grovel.”
“What?” Bonnie said, while Min gaped at Liza, and Diana watched them all, fascinated.
Liza got up from the table, picked up Min’s phone, and brought it over to her. “Call him. Tell him you were wrong, he was right, and you’ll do anything to make it up to him.”
Min swallowed. “You want me to grovel?”
“Yes,” Liza said. “I’m not going to watch you lose him because of your dumb pride. Call and offer him anything he wants if he’ll take you back.”
Min looked at Bonnie, who nodded.
Min looked at the phone. If she called Cal, she’d at least get to hear his voice. How pathetic was that? “Pathetic,” she said out loud.
“Only if you let this go,” Liza said. “For once in your life, do the irrational, reckless thing. Call him.”
Min sat there, frozen in fear. Then she took a deep breath and picked up the phone.
Cal was rehearsing his “How about a late dinner tomorrow?” speech when the phone rang, but when he picked it up and heard Min’s tentative “Hi?” he forg
ot it all.
“Hi,” he said and sat down hard on the couch.
“Don’t say anything,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. “Let me get this out. I was wrong not to tell you I knew about the bet. I was wrong not to trust you. Everything you said at the wedding was right. It’s my fault. I want you back. I want us back. I love you and I need you—”
Relief made Cal dizzy.
“And I want to see you now,” she went on, and Cal thought, Christ, yes, and then the other shoe dropped. “Now?” he said and looked at the clock. Twenty-six hours before the bet was up. Just tell her yes, he thought, she doesn’t care about the bet anymore, she said so, and then he remembered how she’d sounded when she’d said it at the wedding.
“It’s been driving me crazy saying no to you all these weeks,” Min was babbling, “but if you’re not ready for that, that’s okay, I just want to see you. I haven’t seen you for two days, and I miss you so much. Can I come over right now? Just to talk? Or, you know, we could do other things. I can think of several. If you want more than talk. More would be good with me. Or not. Whatever.”
More would be great with me, Cal thought and shook his head to clear it.
“I’m on my knees here,” Min said, her voice straining to be chipper. “And not in a good way. Can I come over?”
“No,” Cal said. “I’ll come to you. Later.” He swallowed. “Tomorrow. Nine-thirty. Tomorrow night, nine-thirty.”
“Not now?” Min said, her voice cracking.
“No,” Cal said. “No. Nine-thirty. Tomorrow. I’ll bring dinner.”
“I can cook now,” Min said. “I can make dinner. I can make it now.”
“I’ll bring dinner tomorrow,” Cal said, thinking, Christ, I’ve been stupid.
“Fine, whatever.” Min waited for a moment and then added, “I’m kind of hungry now, though.”
“Tomorrow, nine-thirty, your place,” Cal said, gritting his teeth.
“Okay,” Min said. “All right. Tomorrow night it is.” He was about to say good-bye when she said, “Are you seeing Cynthie?”
“Christ, no,” Cal said, casting a guilty look at the door.
“Because you left with her. And David said you were. Or I wouldn’t have asked. I mean, it’s none of my business.”
“It’s your business,” Cal said. “And David is an idiot. Stop talking to him.”
“I’m trying,” Min said.
Cal felt all his tension morph into a much more convenient anger. “What does that mean, you’re trying?”
“He calls. For some reason, this whole mess has convinced him that he and I should get married.”
“He’s wrong,” Cal snapped.
“I know that,” Min said, her voice not placating anymore.
“You’ve got caller ID. Stop picking up the phone.”
“Look, I’m not completely stupid.”
“You’re not stupid at all,” Cal said, “your past month’s performance notwithstanding.” He winced. Stupid. Stupid.
“Hey, you made the bet.”
“I did not—”
“The second one. The take-me-to-dinner one. I screwed up but I’m not going to pay for it for the rest of my life. You’re culpable here, too. You made that dinner bet.”
There you go, Cal thought. Shanna was right, damn it.
“Not that I’m assuming you’re going to be around for the rest of my life,” Min said, tentative again.
“Tomorrow night,” Cal said and hung up, before either one of them said something even dumber, pretty sure he’d done the right thing. Christ, I’m in a Doris Day movie, he thought, and went to tell Shanna that he’d done what she said.
“I love you,” Min said forlornly to the dial tone.
“What happened?” Liza said. “What was all that stuff about Cynthie and David? I told you to grovel, not fight.”
Min put the phone down and picked up Elvis for comfort. “He doesn’t want to see me until tomorrow.”
“That’s strange,” Liza said. “If I’d promised Tony sex like that, he’d have been here before I hung up the phone.”
“I didn’t actually promise him sex,” Min said.
“Oh, please,” Liza and Bonnie said together, and even Diana nodded and said, “Yes, you did.”
“Could I keep some shred of dignity here?” Min said. “He just said no to sex, the bastard.”
“No, he didn’t,” Bonnie said, patting her hand. “He just said, not until tomorrow.” She frowned. “I don’t get him.”
“Tell us what he said,” Liza said.
“He said he’d come over here tomorrow at nine-thirty, and he’d bring dinner. Like I want to eat.” Min sniffed. “I hate this. This is dumb.”
“What’s so special about nine-thirty tomorrow night?” Liza said. “What’s tomorrow? It’s just Wednesday.”
“It’s Roger’s and my anniversary,” Bonnie said. “He’s ordering champagne, and then he’s going to pick me up at the bar the way he did four weeks ago, and then he’s going to propose.”
“Cute,” Min said.
“That’s it,” Liza said, straightening. “Tomorrow night it’s four weeks since David made the bet.”
“But Cal didn’t take the bet,” Min snapped. “I’m tired of this conversation. He didn’t—”
“But everybody knows about it,” Liza said. “So if you give in before the time’s up, he wins. And he loves to win. He always wins. He lives to win.”
“Not seeing your point,” Min said.
“He’s throwing the bet,” Liza said.
“Why?” Min stood up and Elvis leaped for the floor. “Why in the name of God—”
“It’s sort of gallant,” Bonnie said.
“If you ask me, it’s a control thing, too,” Liza said, disdain in her voice. “He gets to call the shots. What happened at nine-thirty?”
Min shrugged, confused. “We got to the restaurant a little before ten, so we were probably leaving the bar about then.”
Liza nodded. “He’s giving himself some leeway.” She frowned. “Although more than he needs if he’s bringing dinner. Then there’ll be foreplay. It’s going to take some time to get you—”
“He can have me when he walks in the door,” Min said.
Diana picked up her bread again. “I’ll go to the movies tomorrow night. You’re going to need this place to yourself, and I’m not going back home. Mom’s still mad I moved in here. She’s convinced I’m eating carbs.” She bit into the bread, and Min laughed in spite of herself and then began to consider the situation.
So what if Cal lost the bet? Ten bucks. He could afford it. “No,” she said. “I’m not going to be the bet he lost, that’s not how I want us to start. He’s going to win that bet tomorrow night, and he’s going to be very happy doing it.”
“Why tomorrow?” Liza said.
“Because I’m going to need a really hot nightgown,” Min said. “And a lot more courage than I have right now. And a plan.”
“Explain,” Liza said, and Min leaned in and they began to talk.
“What the hell is going on?” David said the next evening when he called Cynthie. “I thought you said that fight at the wedding would end it.”
“We lost,” Cynthie said, her voice sounding tired. “He loves her so much, he’s forgiven her.”
“I just talked to Min,” David said, reliving the experience in vivid detail. “She told me she’s going to make sure he wins, so I should get my checkbook out. She sounded mad at me.”
“David, it’s done,” Cynthie said. “The only thing we can do is wait and hope infatuation wears itself out and they come to their senses.”
“Six months to three years? I’m not waiting on Calvin Morrisey.” David thought of Cal with loathing. He had Min so snowed she believed he’d actually throw that bet. He’d probably set it up so she’d insist on his winning. He’d probably . . . David sat back. “Wait a minute. What if Min found out he was playing her? What if he tricked her into sleeping with
him so he could win the bet?”
“He’s not,” Cynthie said, tiredly. “It’s done, David.”
“No, it’s not,” David said. “Not if the bet’s for midnight. What if her family and friends found out he made that bet?”
“It’s done, David,” Cynthie said.
“I’m not done,” David said. “I’m going to win.”
At eight, Cal had a bottle of wine and a box of Krispy Kremes ready to take to Min’s apartment, and an hour and a half of rabid sexual frustration to kill when the phone rang.
“Cal,” Diana said when he answered. “You have to get over here. Min’s in trouble.”
“What—” Cal said, and then all he heard was a dial tone. “Okay,” he said, and headed over to Min’s apartment, deeply suspicious.
When he knocked on the door, Diana opened it. “Thank God you’re here,” she said, and hauled him inside. Then she slipped out the door and left, slamming it behind her.
“What is this?” Cal turned around and saw Min, dressed in a short black trench coat, her back against the door, that glint in her eyes. “Oh, funny,” he said, trying to sound mad. “Did you ever hear the story about the actuary who cried ‘Wolf’?”
“Yes,” Min said. “The wolf ate her.” She grinned at him, and his pulse kicked up. “I have news for you, Charm Boy. You are not going to throw this bet.”
“Oh, yes, I am,” Cal said, retreating around her couch while Elvis watched with contempt. “If we sleep together now, there will come a day when we’re arguing about the electric bill, and you’ll say, ‘You only dated me for the bet.’ I’m not paying for this for the rest of my life when all I have to do is wait an hour and a half.” He looked at the clock on the mantel. “Eighty minutes.”
“The rest of your life, huh?” Min said.
“Yes, Minerva, the rest of my life. You think I’d go through the hell this month has been just for the sex?”
Min blinked. “Well, yes.”
Cal thought about it. “Okay, you have a point.”
“Did I mention I’m not wearing underwear?” Min slid around the couch and he backed around to the other side.
“You do this to torture me, don’t you?” Cal said.
Bet Me Page 33
