I Waxed My Legs for This?

by Holly Jacobs

  “Tonight.” In his eyes was a wealth of promises. He held her gaze for a moment, as if he was trying to figure out things, too, then he turned and walked out of the shop.

  “That’s some guy,” Mrs. Smith murmured.

  “You can say that again.” Carrie gave herself a little mental shake. “I’m so sorry you had to witness our...” She hesitated, unsure what to call what had happened.

  “Actually, watching a man go to those lengths to declare himself.” Mrs. Smith gave a little sniff. “Well, it was one of the most romantic things I’ve seen in a long time.”

  Carrie looked back at the door. “Yeah, I thought so, too.” She pulled herself up and smiled at her customer. “But, romantic or not, it wasn’t the way I like to run a business.”

  “If you could give a performance like that every day, people would flock to the store.” She shook her head. “Now, if I could only find my Jaycee a man like your Jack. I’ve been trying, but she’s not real cooperative. I might have tried to fix her up with your Jack but he seems to be taken. So I’ll have to just go ahead with my original plan.” She looked at Carrie. “He is taken, isn’t he?”

  “Maybe,” Carrie said, her heart suddenly lighter than it had been in a week. She smiled. “Maybe. We really do try to cater to our customers here, but I’m afraid Jack’s one order I won’t be filling.”

  Mrs. Smith gave a dramatic sigh, but her eyes twinkled as she smiled. She looked Carrie up and down. “Just what were you planning to wear tonight?”

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought about it. It’s just the club with Jack. Before all these problems, we used to go a couple times a week.”

  “But tonight is special.”

  Carrie thought about the look Jack had given her when he left. Shivers of anticipation crept up her spine. “Yes, I think tonight might be very special.”

  “And a special night requires a special dress, particularly for a girl who works in a dress shop.”

  “Well, there is that.”

  “And there’s also this...” Mrs. Smith walked up to a rack and pulled off a simple blue sheath.

  Only it wasn’t so simple or quite blue. It was a blue that bordered on black, the color of the sky half an hour after the sun has set.

  “I couldn’t,” Carrie whispered.

  “You could,” Mrs. Smith assured her.

  “It’s too much,” Carrie protested, though she fingered the dress that had caught her eye and her imagination since the first moment it had entered the shop.

  “It’s hardly enough,” Mrs. Smith assured her.

  “I’d look silly.”

  “You’d look irresistible. I don’t think Jack will be able to eat a thing.”

  “Felix would be insulted. He’s the cook and he takes such things very seriously.” Realizing what she said, she corrected herself. “Chef. See, if he heard me make that mistake he’d bum my food for a month, and he likes me.”

  “If Felix sees you, he’ll understand why Jack can’t eat. Carrie if the chef sees you he’ll probably bum your food only because he’ll be as flustered as every other man in the place.”

  “Mrs. Smith,” Carrie protested, weakening.

  “You know you want to,” the older woman said, playing the devil’s advocate.

  “But I shouldn’t.”

  “I’ve dealt with Eloise often enough to know she’d tell you to go for it. Since she’s not here, I suppose I’ll have to stand in for her. Try the dress on, Carrie.”

  “Mrs. Smith, I’m supposed to be the employee, you’re the customer.”

  “I’m a friend and a customer, too. And remember the customer is always right. Try on the dress, Carrie.”

  “Mrs. Smith, have you ever thought about working retail?”

  The older woman laughed. “Actually, since Jaycee is out of town and her father retired, I’ve been thinking that I should find something part-time, just to get me out of the house.”

  “Since Eloise is starting the store in Pittsburgh, I’ve been thinking about looking for someone who was interested in flexible part-time hours.”

  Mrs. Smith held out the dress. “Well, let’s look at this as my first sale. Try the dress on, Carrie.”

  “Did you boss Jaycee around like this?” Carrie grumbled, taking the dress and heading to the dressing room.

  Mrs. Smith laughed good-naturedly. “Next time she’s in town, we’ll all do lunch and the two of you can compare horror stories. Now, climb out of those slacks, and slip that dress on.”

  “I think you’ll do fine in this business,” Carrie muttered.

  “I was a teacher for thirty years, I can certainly handle an uncertain customer or two.”

  Carrie slipped the dress over her head and before she looked in the mirror, she knew she was sold.

  When she opened the curtain, Mrs. Smith whistled. “He’ll never know what hit him.”

  Chapter Ten

  MARTIN DIDN’T LOOK up as he asked, “Hello, do you have a reservation?”

  “Martin, it’s me.”

  This time he did look up. Carrie smiled at his bemused expression. “I’m meeting Jack.”

  “Carrie. You look lovely,” he said.

  She tugged at the dress. “Do you think Jack will like it?”

  The maître d’ said, “If he doesn’t, he’s blind.”

  Martin started walking into the dining room and Carrie followed.

  “Tonight is sort of important,” she admitted in hushed tones.

  Martin nodded. “Finally the two of you are going to get together.”

  She stopped. “What do you mean, finally?”

  Martin turned around and smiled. “Carrie, the entire staff has been ready to shake sense into the two of you for years. We’ve been waiting for you both to realize what was under your noses.”

  “What was that?”

  “Love.” He cleared his throat again. “Jack’s already here. He’s waiting.”

  She glanced at their usual table. “I don’t see him.”

  Martin shook his head and beckoned her forward. “He decided to try something different this time.”

  Jack had called her a half hour ago and said something had come up, could she meet him at the club?

  Carrie’s stomach rocked back and forth, rolling to the cadence of her heart, as she followed Martin. She was beyond nervous.

  She kept telling herself that this was just Jack. They’d eaten at the club a hundred times.

  But tonight was different.

  She’d been on many dates over the years, but Carrie couldn’t remember ever being so nervous.

  “Where are we going?” she asked Martin, who was leading her through the main dining room.

  “I said Jack had something special in mind.”

  “Yes, but where are we going?”

  Martin walked through the open patio doors and pointed to a table by the cliff that overlooked the lake. “There.”

  He kissed her cheek, “Now, go.”

  Carrie started down the path by herself, trying to take in the scene. The table was lit by dozens of flickering candles, their flames dancing merrily in the warm still air. “Jack,” she said, as she approached the table. He was standing on the edge of the cliff staring at the water.

  She waited in nervous anticipation for him to turn and when he did her nervousness fled.

  “Carrington,” he said, using her full name like a caress. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  She’d been waiting all her life for this moment, she realized. “I’m here. I’ve been here for a very long time.”

  “And I was too blind to see you.” He held out a chair for her and took his own after she was seated. “I’m seeing you now.”

  He poured a glass of champagne and handed it to her, then poured one for himself. “To us.”

  Hesitantly, she allowed her glass to clink with his and just watched as he took a sip.

  “You’re not drinking,” he said.

  “I’m anxious and we both know where drinkin
g and nerves get me.”

  “Come on, Carrie.”

  Carrie took a sip.

  “You went to a lot of trouble,” she murmured. The word ambience hardly touched what Jack had managed to accomplish.

  Moonlit skies bathed their banquet and the cadence of the waves beating against the shoreline beneath the cliff provided the music.

  And lovely as it all was, Carrie couldn’t fully appreciate any of it because her entire being was focused on the man.

  That he was here, that he’d gone to this kind of trouble for her sent feelings rolling through the center of her being, which she still wasn’t used to.

  Feelings of love that she’d tried to deny for so long. “So much trouble.”

  Jack smiled. “Not all that much. Martin helped.”

  “That was nice of him.” She sat there, unable to think of anything else to say.

  Jack lifted a domed lid. “Oyster?” he asked.

  Carrie’s stomach rolled. “I don’t think so.”

  He looked disappointed. “Just try one. Here,” he said, picking out a big one from the top of the pile. “This one looks good.”

  “Jack, I know you went to a lot of trouble, but I’ve never had oysters and can’t imagine ever having them. They’re gray. I mean, I’ll eat my greens, oranges and yellows, but I don’t do gray. Plus they’re slimy.”

  “You just open it and swallow,” he said and proceeded to do just that.

  “Then why bother?”

  Jack looked annoyed. “I just want you to try one.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’ll stick to the champagne.”

  “You’re not making this easy,” he muttered.

  Suddenly she laughed, more from nerves than humor. “When have I ever made your life easy?”

  His frown disappeared and his grudging laughter joined hers. “Point taken.”

  “Were we just having oysters and champagne?” Carrie’s nerves were settling a bit and she thought she could eat something.

  Actually, if she was drinking champagne, she better eat something, just nothing gray.

  He shook his head. “Martin is bringing our dinner out in a few minutes.”

  “Good.”

  They both sat in uncomfortable silence. Carrie looked at the water. The lights from various boats lit the lake, flicking much like the candles that lit the table. “This was a beautiful idea.”

  “Not as beautiful as you,” Jack said.

  “Oh.” She couldn’t think of a thing to say. Jack had never said things like that to her. She’d dreamed one day he would, but she’d never really believed he would.

  “Carrie?” Jack said, causing her to jump as he broke their silence.

  There was something in his voice that made Carrie apprehensive. “Yes?” she managed to say.

  “Listen, I might as well get this over with.” He sounded like a man on his way to an execution.

  “Yes?” she said.

  “Have an oyster,” he said again.

  “Jack, I’m not eating an oyster.”

  “Damn it, Carrie. Do you plan to make the rest of our lives this difficult?” Jack rose from his seat and moved around the table. He sank to his knees beside her and plucked an oyster off the pile. “Here, open it.”

  She was no longer swooning over the ambiance, she was annoyed. “I said I don’t want an oyster.”

  Jack shook his head. “You are…” was all he said.

  “Are what?”

  What was with him? He was losing his mind, maybe she’d taken him away on vacation too late and now he was certifiably nuts.

  “Are going to make things difficult for the rest of our lives? You’re probably going to drive me crazy, too, for good measure.” He pried the oyster open and looked annoyed. He tossed it onto the ground and pulled another off the pile.

  “Jack?” Carrie was nervous. “What did you do that for?”

  He talked as he pried open another oyster. “When we first moved in next to you and you started getting me embroiled in your escapades I thought, good grief, what a pain.”

  “I know. I don’t mean to get myself and you into...”

  Gently he placed a hand over her mouth, silencing her. It smelled overwhelmingly fishy and Carrie drew back and remained silent, not wanting his hand on her again until after he’d washed it.

  He tossed the oyster on the ground and reached for another one. “But over the years, you’ve changed.”

  She gave a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I went from kicking you while hanging from basketball hoops to making you rip hair off my legs.”

  Again he gave the oyster a toss and reached for another, grinning at her. “Yeah, that was a real hardship, right up there with rubbing lotion on your back during our vacation. You irritated me at first, when we were kids. But you know after a while, you weren’t irritating anymore. You were just someone who was a part of my life, part of me.”

  “Well, thanks for that I guess.”

  “Shh,” he said. “I worked all day on this.”

  He straightened himself and grabbed the next oyster.

  What was he doing?

  He shucked oysters and tossed them onto the ground.

  He continued his odd behavior as he talked. “Anyway, you weren’t annoying anymore, you were a part of me. Kind of like a grain of sand that gets caught in the oyster’s mouth. After a while, he doesn’t notice it’s irritating because it’s changed into something beautiful.”

  “Are you saying I’m as irritating as that grain of sand?” Carrie asked, her voice little more than a breathless whisper.

  “No, I’m saying you are the most beautiful women I’ve ever known. You’re that pearl that the oyster finally notices one day, a pearl that has literally been sitting under his nose.”

  Carrie’s lips found his, fish smell be damned.

  “Mmm. Much better than any of those practice boys,” she said. She leaned back and stared at him. “A pearl, am I?”

  He reached for the last oyster on what had once been a nice little pile. “You ruined my proposal, you know,” he said.

  He cracked open the oyster and said, “Aha.” He held it out to her. A pearl ring sat inside the shell.

  “Will you marry me?” he asked.

  Carrie didn’t touch the ring. She just stared at it.

  “I drive you crazy,” she whispered.

  “But I’m used to it after so many years.”

  Her finger ached to take the ring, but she held herself back. “I manipulated you into bed,” she confessed.

  “You can say it as much as you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that I wanted to be in your bed more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Carrie—this sounds so disgustingly mushy, but you’re my pearl. Irritating, but beautiful.”

  “That’s what you worked on the whole day?” She laughed with the giddiness of it all. “That’s so flattering.”

  “Not as flattering as you telling me about how you practiced kissing all those boys. You do know that your practicing days are over, don’t you?”

  He took the ring and held it to her finger. “Say yes, Carrie.”

  “Yes.” Her heart was suddenly filled to the point of bursting.

  Jack slipped the ring in place and kissed her. It was tender at first but within seconds it moved beyond tender and became eager and demanding.

  “I don’t think you’ll be needing any more practice,” he said.

  “You, either,” she warned, breathlessly. “You’re sure about this?”

  “Carrie, remember that night I ripped the wax from your legs?” he asked.

  “Vaguely,” she said, laughter suddenly bubbling from her lips.

  He loved her.

  Jack Templeton wanted to marry her.

  “Well, it’s as if I ripped something off my eyes that night as well. I looked at you, really looked at you and I didn’t see good old Carrie, my friend.”

  “What did you see?” she a
sked.

  “I saw you as a woman...a woman I wanted. A woman I loved. I’ve just been trying to figure out how to tell you without damaging our friendship.”

  “You mean, I waxed my legs for this?” She giggled. “You mean, if I had waxed my legs years ago we wouldn’t have wasted all that time, all those years? Geesh, Jack. If I knew dehairing my legs was all it would take, I would have done it back in high school.” She giggled again at the thought.

  Jack gave a tug and she joined him on the grass. Both of them laughing like loons.

  “Ah hum,” came a voice.

  Carrie, who was sitting in Jack’s lap, looked up and there was Martin, trays in hand, staring at them, with amusement in his eyes.

  “Food?” Carrie asked.

  “Food, you’d call Felix’s creations food? You do know if he found out, you’d be eating elsewhere for a month at least.” There was a twinkle in Martin’s eyes.

  “Ambrosia,” she corrected herself as she tried to stand without exposing anything.

  “So, I take it you two have fixed everything?” Martin asked as he set another bottle of wine on the table.

  Carrie thrust her hand toward him. She flicked her fingers back and forth.

  “What’s this?” Martin took her hand and peered at the ring glowing near the candlelight. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

  “What do you think it means?” Carrie asked, laughing.

  “That you two fools finally figured it out?”

  Jack now stood behind Carrie, with his hands wrapped around her waist. “I know it’s last minute, but do you have enough clout to get us the club for a reception in, oh, say about a month?”

  “A month?” Carrie cried. “Jack, no one can pull together a wedding in a month. And with your job there are so many bigwigs we’re going to have to invite, it will have to be something really special.”

  “Oh, it has to be special, all right, but not for any bigwigs. There’s been a slight change in my career, by the way. Bigwigs aren’t much of a problem, you see.”

  “Change?”

  “We’ll talk later.” Jack looked at the maître d’. “So, what do you think?”

  “Let me go check the reservations and see what I can come up with. I’ll be right back,” Martin said.

  “No hurry,” Jack said. “Tomorrow’s soon enough.”