Accidentally Yours

by Bettye Griffin

  “I will. And congratulations to both you and Austin, Des. I know you’ll be happy together for the rest of your lives.”

  *****

  Vivian was pleased with the way she looked. Since she had a number of dressy outfits in her closet, most of which she had only worn once, she decided against buying a new one for the occasion. Besides, she wanted to reserve her cash for the travel and activity expenses she would have in her quest for a mate.

  She had left work an hour early and gone to a local salon, where her short hair had been washed and styled, then brushed back from her face with a few waves, courtesy of skillfully applied gel. She’d also had her naturally thick eyebrows shaped. Her eyebrows had a way of growing unruly when she wasn’t looking, but when they were shaped they opened up her entire face. She wore minimal eye makeup; her brows said it all.

  Instead of a dress, she wore a black tunic with shirred shoulders, sleeveless, with a gentle drape and cinched waist over matching loosely draped slacks. The tunic had no sleeves, but she wore long black gloves that would warm her arms and be compatible with the required semiformal dress, as well as hide the fact that she hadn’t had time to do anything to her nails. Her jewelry was her best small ruby drop earrings with a matching necklace and bracelet worn on the outside of her gloves. She figured most of the women would be wearing dresses, and red ones at that, given the Valentine’s Day holiday.

  The phone began to ring, and, as it had become her habit over the last few weeks, she checked the caller ID first. When she saw Gordon Wilson’s name, she didn’t answer. The creep had made a dinner date with her and then stood her up. He’d been calling ever since, but as far as she was concerned, he was too late. Unfortunately, she had written her home number on the back of her business card, and he had been calling her at work, also, where she couldn’t screen him. “We have nothing to say to each other,” she had told him in an even, unemotional tone when he caught her at her desk.

  “I’m really sorry about what happened. I had an emergency.”

  “You could have called me, Gordon. You didn’t want to talk to me then. Let’s say I’m just following your lead, because I don’t want to talk to you now.” She had hung up, but he continued to call her every few days, usually at home. He was probably calling to find out if she was going to the dance. Well, he could eat his heart out. When he saw how good she looked he’d truly regret being so careless. Even if someone had died, he could have called…and she wouldn’t have felt so humiliated, getting dressed and made up to wait for a knock that never came.

  Vivian was pleased to see that the parking lot held a respectable number of cars. The event had begun at seven-thirty, but it was now nearly ten o’clock. She didn’t believe in getting to this type of function too early. She supposed someone had to be the first to arrive, but on the other hand she didn’t believe in going in unless she knew it would be worth her while.

  Once she was parked, she reached under the armrest and pulled out her cell phone. She had the number to Glenda’s phone installed in memory and held down the assigned digit. Within seconds the line was ringing.

  “What took you so long?” she asked when Glenda picked up on the fourth ring.

  “I had to feel for the phone. I couldn’t take my eyes off the road; this exit ramp is curvy.”

  “Oh, so you’re just getting off the highway. That means you’ll be here in ten minutes.”

  “How’s the crowd?”

  “It’s good, from the looks of the parking lot I just hope they’re not all females. Listen, it’s too cold for me to wait for you out here. I’m going in to check my coat. I’ll meet you in the powder room.”

  “You bet.”

  It only took a minute or two for Vivian to ensure that she looked her best. The chilly temperature of the February night kept her makeup fresh, and the hair stylist had applied so much spray to her short tresses that it would take an eighty-mile-per-hour wind to budge them.

  After her time at the mirror she sat at one end of the flowered sofa in the powder room, drumming her fingers impatiently on its rolled arms. Ten minutes could be a long time to wait with nothing to do, and she became bored. Every woman who entered the lounge was with a friend, giving credence to the belief held by so many that grown women rarely went to the restroom alone, and she felt like an oddball. Besides, sitting in here where no one could see her was a waste of her efforts. Doggone it, she looked too good to be hidden away.

  She suppressed a smile, thinking of a catchy ditty used by an auto manufacturer in which the car’s alter ego sang that it was too sexy for mundane things like the groceries, the drive-through, and the dry cleaning. She was humming the jingle as she left the lounge. It wouldn’t hurt to check out what was going on in the ballroom and get herself a drink. She’d still be able to spot Glenda when she arrived.

  “Vivian! I was hoping I’d see you.”

  She frowned. She had had a feeling she might see Gordon tonight, but her hunch didn’t make the reality any more pleasant. His sprain had had plenty of time to heal, and by now he was probably ready to dance till dawn. He’d have to find somebody else to play Ginger to his Fred; she wasn’t interested.

  “Hello, Gordon.” She lowered her voice. “I don’t want to make a scene, so let’s just leave it at that. It was nice seeing you. Good-bye.”

  “Vivian, I wish you’d listen to me.”

  “I already made myself clear,” she hissed. “No one stands me up and gets another chance. Now, please excuse me.” She walked over to the bar, which had been set up against the wall about halfway down the length of the room. “Vodka and grapefruit juice, please,” she ordered when she had the bartender’s attention. Usually she drank wine, but Gordon’s persistence was wearing on her nerves, and she preferred something a little stronger.

  “Sounds like someone’s driving you to drink. Is there trouble in paradise?”

  The words were spoken softly, so close to her right ear that she felt them reverberate. She knew it was Zack even before she turned around. The man had a way of knowing just what to say to get the muscles of her jaw to tighten up. Maybe she should have ordered a double and nursed it all night. All she knew was that she was getting more and more tense, and she’d only been here five minutes.

  She turned to give him what she hoped was a withering look, but it wilted like day-old salad greens when he filled her line of vision. Most of the men present wore dark suits. A smaller number wore tuxedos, but Zack looked striking in a red blazer, navy shirt and slacks, and a tie and matching handkerchief printed with red curvy lines and polka dots on a navy background. Vivian always appreciated a well-dressed man, and Zack could be on a cover for GQ. One look and her resolve went the way of most New Year’s resolutions.

  He reached for her gloved hand. “What’s the matter, Vivling?” he asked in a gentle tone.

  She willed her hand not to tremble in his and was grateful for the gloves. “My name is Vivian,” she managed to say. It came out just a little louder than a whisper.

  The bartender set a drink down on a napkin in front of her. She opened her purse. Her hand was barely on a bill inside when a red-sleeved arm reached out and handed the bartender currency. Then the same arm linked itself in hers and led her away, barely giving her time to grab her drink.

  “Okay, Vivling, tell me all about it,” he said when they were well away from the bar and approaching the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gardens.

  She glanced to her left, where the arm that had just been next to hers was now around her shoulder. It had been such a smooth movement she hadn’t noticed it until after the deed was done.

  “I thought your specialty was emergency medicine. You’re behaving more like a psychiatrist.” She didn’t bother to tell him again not to call her Vivling; something told her it would be no use.

  “If there was a couch here I’d suggest you lie down.” He looked embarrassed at the cynical look on her face. “Oops. Freudian slip. Or just foot-in-mouth.”

  H
er smile was mischievous. “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

  “With you I seem to. I’m not sure why.”

  “Why don’t we sit for a few minutes?” She took advantage of the opportunity when her back was turned and treated herself to an ear-to-ear smile. Zack had seemed so vulnerable just now, like a thirteen-year-old with a crush on a classmate.

  Two vacant chairs flanked a small glass table between the windows, and they took those. “You look real good,” he said.

  “You’re trying hard to say something nice, aren’t you?”

  “What? That wasn’t nice?”

  She laughed, already feeling more relaxed. “It was very nice. Thank you.” Then she saw Glenda and waved. She wore a cream-colored silk jacquard dress, her natural hair crinkled and pinned at the crown of her head. “Oh, shucks. She doesn’t see me.” She hated to leave Zack when things were going so well, but to continue to sit with him wasn’t fair to Glenda.

  “Will you excuse me? The friend I’m meeting is here.”

  “Sure. I’ll catch you later.”

  Zack watched as she walked away from him. On the two previous occasions he’d seen her she looked cute and sexy. Tonight she was elegant and sexy. His instincts had been right. She made every other woman present look ordinary. He wanted to ask her to dance, but not to the finger- snapping kind of music they were playing now. He would wait until they played something slow and dreamy, where he could hold her in his arms.

  Vivian and Glenda were both asked to dance at the start of the very next song the deejay played. From that time on they seldom had time to sit. After an hour Vivian began to develop a thirst. She was about to go to the bar for a plain grapefruit juice when another man approached her. “Would you like to dance?”

  “Sure,” she said, deciding the bar would still be there when she was ready for it.

  They joined the other dancers in the center of the room. His movements struck her as being on the stiff side, but he was kind of cute, tall with curly black hair, a goatee, and glasses.

  The deejay played a succession of some of her favorite songs, but after the third Vivian found she was getting sluggish and gestured to her partner that she wished to stop.

  He escorted her off the dance floor and thanked her. “May I buy you a drink?”

  She hesitated. This situation could be tricky. It was a nice gesture, but a lot of men felt that the purchase of a single drink for a woman entitled them to monopolize her company for the rest of the evening. She wouldn’t be willing to exchange her freedom for the price of a Remy Martin, much less a simple grapefruit juice. Still, he seemed like a nice enough fellow, and she wouldn’t mind talking with him, at least for a little while. If he didn’t seem willing to let her go, she would manage to tactfully get away. “Thank you, yes.”

  They walked over to the bar.

  “What would you like?”

  “Just grapefruit juice, please.”

  He gave the order to the bartender, requesting a rum and coke for himself, then introduced himself as Bernard Williams. In turn she gave her name, and they carried their drinks to the reception area where it was quiet enough to talk. Vivian learned he was a stockbroker for a major firm in the Financial District and that he lived in Riverdale. In return, she shared with him the same basic information about herself: where she lived and what she did.

  She glanced at her watch. She had been talking with Bernard for forty-five minutes, and she was beginning to feel a little restless. But when the deejay slowed his pace Bernard stood and held out his hand, and she took it.

  The crowd on the dance floor typically thinned out when the slow jams were played. Vivian never could figure out the reason for this. Maybe the fellows just didn’t feel like getting that close to anyone. As she stepped into Bernard’s arms, she wondered where Zack was. A glance around at the other couples on the floor did not reveal that he was among them, and in that red jacket he would be easy to spot. Wherever he was, she hoped he saw her with Bernard, who, while not the best-looking man in the place—that honor would ultimately go to Zack—was no slouch in the looks department. He looked every inch the successful businessman in a navy blue suit that seemed perfectly tailored to his tall, thin body. If there was anything that irked her more than seeing women incorporate those dyed fabric shoes—obviously left over from days of serving as a bridesmaid—into their everyday wardrobes, it was a man whose clothes didn’t fit properly.

  Zack was standing with a number of other men near the door. He stood slightly behind them so that Vivian would not be able to see him. If she didn’t see him, she wouldn’t know that he knew she was in the arms of another man. He had received compliments on his ensemble from men and women alike, but now he felt like his red blazer stood out like a fire engine among a group of black limousines.

  He had felt a sensuous light flickering between them when they talked earlier. It was like there was no one else in the building but the two of them…until she had spotted her friend, and then the magic moment passed.

  He’d danced and socialized since then, but all the while kept an eye on where Vivian was and who she was with. Some undernourished-looking dude had latched on to her, and, from the looks of it, wasn’t ready to let go.

  “Hi!”

  He turned his head in a lackadaisical manner. He was getting tired of bold females approaching him.

  But it wasn’t another brazen husband-hunter who stood before him; it was Vivian’s girlfriend, the one who had been with her at the hospital and whose name he couldn’t remember. “Hello. You’re Vivian’s friend, aren’t you?” He hoped she would furnish her name.

  “Yes. Glenda.” She grinned. “How’ve you been, Doc?”

  “I’m well. Call me Zack.”

  “I understand you were on the ski trip.”

  “You were there, too?”

  “Yes. I’m not an experienced skier like you and Viv. That’s why you didn’t see me. I was with the novices who had to take a lesson on a little baby slope.”

  He nodded. “One lesson makes it hard to get into, unless you’re there for a few days and have the time to really get into it.”

  “I guess that explains why I didn’t care for it much.” Glenda scanned the couples dancing. “Oh, there’s Viv. I was wondering where she was.” She turned to Zack. “I’m afraid she might be trapped.”

  “What do you mean, trapped?”

  “I think she might be having trouble shaking this guy she’s talking to. She signaled to me a few minutes ago, just before they started dancing. After they finish I’ll make an excuse to go and get her. We do this type of thing for each other all the time.” She patted his upper arm. “I just wanted to say hello. See you later.”

  “Good seeing you, Glenda.” Zack looked at Vivian again. She appeared to be enjoying herself, but he wasn’t fazed. Glenda had just provided him with valuable information, and he had news for her. He would be the one to get Vivian away from her dance partner. Maybe it wasn’t in the same league as rescuing her from a burning building, but he was sure she would be grateful just the same.

  He walked over to where Vivian and the stranger were dancing and tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me. May I cut in?”

  The man, as he expected, looked stunned. It certainly wasn’t a request one heard at every function, but he quickly recovered and acquiesced, with a parting smile Vivian’s way.

  “This is a surprise,” Vivian said as she and Zack fell into step. His timing couldn’t have been better. It was almost as if he knew she was scheming up a way to make a graceful break from Bernard, not because she disliked him, but just so she could do a little more socializing. There was no reason why she couldn’t meet two new men in a single evening. This was only February, but her average so far was zero, and she needed to double up; it would increase her odds of meeting her goal of getting the life partner she sought. Could it be that Zack was interested in being a contender after all?

  She loved being so close to him. He had a delicious, musky sce
nt, and the fabric of his blazer—it felt like a wool blend to her palms—was so soft and welcoming. How wonderful it would be to be able to claim this highly desirable man as her very own.

  By the time they had made a single revolution, she became aware that the eyes of various women standing or moving about on the sidelines were fixated on her and Zack. They probably all knew him from NBP, but, of course, she was new to the group. Some of the stares were more obvious than others, and while some were curious, others were outright hostile. That meant she and Zack must make an attractive couple.

  “I hope you didn’t mind my breaking in,” he said.

  “I thought it was very sweet. I’m flattered.”

  The music began to fade out, to Vivian’s colossal disappointment. That meant the slow jams were over and the dance music was about to return, and she and Zack had barely had a chance to say two words to each other.

  The strains of the next song began as the music they were dancing to grew fainter. “Oh, no, you’re not going anywhere yet,” Zack said in a playful tone when she broke away from him with the intent of going to the sidelines. “This is a great tune.”

  She had to agree. The deejay favored what was generally referred to as classic R&B, music that had been at the top of the charts about twenty years before, but sounded as good to her ears and her sense of rhythm at thirty-four as it had at fourteen. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who felt that way. The crowd around them became thick, but their space wasn’t reduced. The nice thing about having an event in a banquet room at a hotel or country club was that there was plenty of room in the center of the floor, unlike nightclubs with a hundred or more people trying to squeeze on parquet dance floors measuring perhaps twelve-by-twelve feet.

  Zack was a wonderful dancer whose moves seemed effortless. Vivian found herself working hard to keep up with him. She had been moving conservatively while dancing previously, conscious of her outfit. Certain moves, while perfectly appropriate in a T-shirt and jeans, one just didn’t make when all gussied up. Ordering a beer was one of them, even though a cold beer was a great thirst quencher. Getting down on the dance floor was another. She wanted her movements to be smooth, not jerky.