“Suits. Dresses my mother wouldn’t wear. For Pete’s sake—”
“Cassie.” Dawn grabbed her friend’s hands and held on until she looked at her. “Cut it out.”
“Cut what out? You cannot possibly meet this guy looking like a cross between Mary Poppins and Velvet Brown.”
“That’s exactly the point. I’m not meeting… Who?”
“Mary Poppins. The nanny with necklines up to her chin and sleeves to her wrists.”
“I know who Mary Poppins is. Who’s Velvet Brown?”
Cassie blew a strand of dark hair off her forehead. “Jeez, it’s sweltering in here. Turn the AC up, will you?”
“It’s up as high as it goes.”
“Yeah, well, you need to buy a new unit.”
“My landlady needs to buy a new unit, not me. And you didn’t answer my question. Who’s Velvet Brown?”
“National Velvet,” Cassie said briskly, tugging her hands free.
“Huh?”
“Don’t you watch old movies?”
“No. And will you please stop dragging stuff from my closet? I told you, I’m not—”
“National Velvet. Elizabeth Taylor. Do you know who she is? A gorgeous actress. She was maybe sixteen then, with this big, wonderful horse…”
Dawn sank down on the edge of the mattress. “I’m lost,” she said, “totally lost.”
“I told you, it’s a movie. Makes me weepy whenever I see it, Velvet and her horse…”
“What does an old movie and a horse have to do with me?”
“Everything. You have stuff you wear to work—and then there’s crud like this.” Cassie stepped from the closet, nose wrinkled, a pair of well-used boots dangling from her fingers. “You mucking out stables in your spare time, or what?”
“Or what,” Dawn said, trying to sound casual. She rode with Tommy almost every Sunday. She’d never been on a horse until she’d sent him to the ranch and she still didn’t ride very well, but her son loved horses—and what was a woman with a son to protect doing, violating her own rules? No men. No dates. No desire for either. That was the comfortable pattern she’d followed for four long years. “Cass.” She took a deep breath. “Listen to me. I am not going to meet that man.”
“Yes, you are, and in less than an hour, so help me decide what you should wear.”
“I’m not. I don’t want to meet him for drinks and dinner. Drinks, for God’s sake.” Dawn groaned and fell backward across the bed, her arms stretched out in supplication. “I don’t drink drinks! And if I did, I wouldn’t drink them with him. What got into me? Why’d I ever agree to this?”
“You agreed because you’re a living, breathing woman and he’s the most gorgeous thing in Vegas.”
“I thought you said Keir was the most gorgeous thing in Vegas.”
“I never said that.”
“Yes, you did. Why don’t you ask him for a date?”
“Who? Keir?” Cassie went back into the closet. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not being ridiculous. You’ve asked men out before.”
“Keir isn’t `men,’ he’s—he’s Keir. He’s an O’Connell. And we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about… Aha!”
“Aha, what?”
“Aha, you’ve been holding out. You do, too, have real clothes. Female clothes.” Cassie emerged from the closet and smiled triumphantly. “White jeans. Black silk T-shirt. Catch.”
The jeans and shirt sailed into Dawn’s lap. She’d bought the outfit for a Rocking Horse Ranch Parents and Kids dinner. The first time around, she’d bought a dress. A Mary Poppins dress, she thought wryly.
Everyone else had worn jeans.
“You look nice, Mama,” Tommy had whispered shyly, slipping his hand into hers, but she’d known she looked as out of place as she felt. Each year since, she’d worn the white jeans and the silk T-shirt. Each time, Tommy said she looked beautiful. Would a man think so, too? Harman wouldn’t. He didn’t like her in jeans, didn’t like her in silk, didn’t like—
Dawn pushed the clothing aside. “Forget it. I’m not going.”
“And you can borrow these,” Cassie said, kicking off her shoes.
“Those? With the nine inch heels? No way.”
“Three inch heels. And I know, it’s not the most hygienic trade but I promise, cross my heart and hope to die, the nail polish on my toes works as an antiseptic.”
Dawn laughed. “I didn’t mean—Cass, this is just so silly…”
“Look, I just spent half an hour battling dust bunnies in your closet. The least you can do is let me see how you look in the only things you own that pass for date clothes, okay?”
Dawn sighed. “It’s all I’m going to do.” She slipped off her robe and stepped into the jeans, pulled on the T-shirt, slid her feet into Cassie’s shoes and gaped down at them. They were all straps and heel. “How do you walk in these things?”
“Slowly. And carefully.” Cassie grinned. “Sometimes, you just have to grab your date’s arm for support, you know?”
“I don’t have a date.”
“This is silly. A perfectly nice man asks you to have dinner and you act as if a sex fiend invited you out for the evening. What’s with you?”
“Nothing’s with me. I just—I don’t—”
“Whoa.” Cassie’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t think he’s dangerous, do you? That he’s somehow connected to your ex?”
“No,” Dawn said, and meant it. She’d discarded that idea almost as soon as she’d thought it. “I can’t imagine Gray and Har—Gray and my husband in the same room.” She laughed. “I can’t even imagine them on the same planet. And you’ve got it wrong, Cass. I told you, I don’t have an `ex.’ Legally, I’m still—”
“Married. Right. To some no-good bastard who still scares you, even though he’s out of your life. What you need is to go out, forget the past and have some fun.”
Dawn shook her head. Pulling on the T-shirt had loosened the scrunchie she wore. It slid off, and her hair swung loose around her face.
“I don’t want that kind of fun,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to get involved with anybody. I’m perfectly happy just the way I am.”
“Amazing,” Cassie said, lifting her eyes to the ceiling. “A guy asks her for a drink and she hears Mendelssohn playing in the background.”
“What?”
“Mendelssohn. The Wedding March.” Cassie lifted one eyebrow. “Surprising the heck out of you today, aren’t I? Old movies, dead composers…”
“And bad advice. There’s no reason for me to meet this man.”
“He has a name. Why not use it?”
“Fine. If it makes you feel better, I’ll say the whole thing. There’s no reason for me to meet Gray Baron.”
“Gorgeous name. Gorgeous guy.”
“You saw him for two minutes.”
“Two minutes was enough. When I spotted you talking to him, I knew he was spectacular. And when I got closer… Mmm-hmm. Those eyes. That voice. That smile.” Cassie clasped her hands over her heart. “Just to hear him say, `Nice to meet you, Miss Berk,’ was enough to turn me inside out.”
“Fine.” Dawn folded her arms. “You go out with him.”
“Well, I would, except I think he’d notice that I wasn’t you.” Cassie jerked her chin toward the mirror. “You look terrific, by the way.”
“I feel dumb. Jeans and heels? It isn’t me.”
“But it is. Go on, take a look.”
She did. What she saw was a stranger, a woman with her hair streaming down her back and her cheeks flushed with color, wearing a pair of snug jeans and heels that were like nothing she’d ever worn in her life.
“I must have gained weight. The jeans are tight.”
“They fit the way they should.”
“They’re tight.” Dawn sucked in her flat belly and turned sideways. “And look at these shoes. They’re—they’re—”
“Sexy?” Cassie said helpfully.
Sexy
was exactly the word. The heels were skinny and high; the straps crisscrossed her bare feet, left her toes peeping out. Dawn stared at her reflection. Sexy shoes. Sexy jeans. Her hair loose and wild. If Gray saw her like this, would he give her that little smile he’d given her yesterday, when he’d leaned in close and her heart had banged straight into her throat?
It banged now, just at the thought. What was the matter with her? Why would she ever want a man to look at her that way and want the same thing Harman had wanted? A little shudder of revulsion sliced through her. She turned away from the mirror and kicked off the shoes.
“Show’s over,” she said briskly. “How about if I phone for some Chinese?”
“What do you mean, how about if you phone for Chinese? You told this guy you’d meet him. You can’t just stand him up.”
“You’re right. I’ll call and tell him I changed my mind.” Dawn picked up the scrunchie and tossed it on the bed. “I’ll order first. What’s it going to be? Hunan Shrimp? Kung Pao Chicken? Would you rather have something light? I could put together a tuna—”
“Don’t look to me to save you,” Cassie said. “I have a date.” She began taking clothes from the bed and putting them away. “Some of us believe in letting guys buy us dinner.”
Dawn decided not to rise to the bait. “Who is he?”
“Someone I met last night. A dentist from Kansas. He’s taking me to that steak house, the one that advertises—”
“Kansas City ribs. Yeah. I figured. Is he nice?”
“He seems okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Okay is fine with me. I gave up looking for Prince Charming years ago…and stop trying to change the subject. Why are you canceling your date?”
“Are we back to that? It’s not a date. I only said I’d have dinner with him.”
“If it’s not a date, why not go ahead and keep it?”
“For heaven’s sake…” Dawn took a breath. She felt edgy and irritated, and why let it out on Cassie? If she’d let Gray fast-talk her into this, whose fault was it but her own? “All right. It’s a date. And that’s just the point. I don’t do dates. I’m not looking for Prince Charming or even a reasonable stand-in. I’m happy the way I am, single and unencumbered, and that’s that.”
Cassie lifted her eyebrows. “Wow,” she said, very softly. “I’m impressed. You’re unen—whatever.”
“Unencumbered, and don’t play dumb with me.” Dawn snatched a blouse from the bed and jammed it onto a hanger. “You know exactly what I’m saying. I don’t want a man in my life. Not now. Not ever. Once was more than enough, thank you very much.”
“You met this guy yesterday, he asks you out on a date and now he’s trying to move into your life? Huh. That’s amazing.”
“I didn’t say—”
“Look, he wants to take you to dinner. That’s all he wants. Well, okay. He’s a man and you’re a woman, and unless he’s brain dead, he’s hoping for more than that—but the rest is up to you. If you want to stop at a drink, fine. If you want to tack on dinner, great. And if it turns out that he makes your temperature climb and you want to end up in bed with him—”
“Never!” Dawn whirled around. “I don’t want to go to bed with Gray or anybody else.”
“Hey. I didn’t mean—”
“I’d sooner enter a convent than—than—” Dawn’s voice trembled. From the look on Cassie’s face, she knew she’d said far more than she’d ever intended. “This is silly,” she said, fighting to sound calm. “We’ve gone from why I should go out with a man to why I should sleep with him.”
“I never said that. All I meant was—”
“I know what you meant. And, trust me, I don’t want it. None of it. Not the dating, not the sex… I’m happy the way I am.”
“I don’t think you are. I think this guy turned you on.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“And why wouldn’t he?” Cassie continued blithely. “There isn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t react to a good-looking guy, especially when he makes it clear he’s interested in her.”
“My God, you are so damned sure of yourself!” Dawn slapped her hands on her hips. “Trust me, okay? There are lots of women who feel the way I do.”
“If that’s true, I feel sorry for them. And for you, because it means that bastard husband of yours won the war.”
Dawn glared at Cassie. Then she grabbed the scrunchie and pulled her hair through it. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you do. If you’re going to judge every guy you meet by the one you lived with, then that bastard still has you under his thumb. Oh, don’t look at me that way. You haven’t said more than three words about him but you don’t have to. Men like him are all the same. They’re control freaks. They’re only happy when they’re telling you what to do. Am I right?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Maybe it’s time you did. Dawn, you’re letting your ex own you.”
“I keep telling you, he isn’t my ex. I’m still married to him.”
“And I’m telling you that unless you start living your life for yourself, you might as will still be living with him.” Cassie’s voice softened. “Don’t you see that?”
The women stared at each other. Then Dawn turned away and made a show of rearranging the hangers in the closet.
“I know you mean well,” she said in a low voice, “but my situation is—it’s complicated. Even if you’re right—and I’m not saying you are—even if it might be a good idea for me to get out a little, I can’t. I can’t, Cass,” she said, turning to face her friend, her eyes pleading for understanding. “I honestly can’t.”
“Listen to me, okay? You’re not signing on for forever. You meet the man, you have a glass of wine, you smile, he smiles, you talk a little, laugh a little. Heck, you flirt a little and maybe you begin to remember what it’s like to be a woman. You have dinner and then it’s over. You say good-night, you come home, and you have a couple of memories that you can call up in the middle of the night, when you’re feeling alone.” Dawn was shaking her head and Cassie reached out and caught hold of her hand. “Don’t say no without thinking it through.”
“I’m telling you, it isn’t that simple. There are—there are things you don’t know…”
“I don’t suppose you want to tell me what they are.” Cassie sighed. “No. I can see that you don’t.”
“Only because it wouldn’t change things. My life is—it’s—”
“Complicated,” Cassie said, with a wry smile.
“Yes. And it wouldn’t help either of us if I drew you into it.” Dawn squeezed Cassie’s hand. “Thank you, though.”
“For what?”
“For caring about me. For giving me advice.”
“We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends are supposed to care. And if my advice was any good, you’d be heading out the door to meet that hunk who’s expecting you in—” she checked her watch and looked up “—in less than fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen…?” Dawn groaned and made a grab for the phone. She dialed the hotel, reached Gray’s room, paced back and forth while she waited for him to pick up. After five rings, she disconnected. “He’s not there. What now?”
“Call back. Leave a message. Maybe he’s in the shower.”
“Right. In the shower.” The thought of Gray, standing naked under the water, turned her face warm and she swung away from the knowing glint in Cassie’s eye. “Okay. I’ll call back.”
This time, she waited for his voice mail to pick up. Then she left a polite message. She was sorry, she couldn’t meet him, something had come up…
“Of course,” Cassie said, checking her fingernails, “he’s probably already downstairs, waiting for you.”
“Not yet. I’m not supposed to meet him for another ten minutes.”
“Uh-huh. Well, maybe he stopped to buy you flowers.”
“Flowers?”
“Yeah. You know,
colored petals, leaves and stems.” Cassie grinned at the expression on Dawn’s face. “It’s been known to happen. Or maybe he just wants to be there first. Whatever, if he’s already left his room, he’s not going to get that message. He’ll just hang around for hours and hours.”
“Oh, stop! He’ll give up after a little while.”
“You mean, once he figures out that he’s been stood up?”
“Yes. No. Oh, hell…”
“Exactly. I have to admit, that’s a novel way to repay a gallant knight for an act of kindness.”
“Cassie. You’re a cruel woman.”
“I’m an honest woman. And I’ve got to go. My dentist’s picking me up soon. Unlike some people I could mention, I don’t believe in turning down a free meal.”
“I was only going to have a drink,” Dawn said, sinking down on the edge of the bed. “Just a drink.”
“My point, exactly.” Cassie looked at her discarded shoes, smiled to herself and slipped her feet into a pair of Dawn’s sandals. “You don’t mind if I borrow these, do you?”
“What? Oh. No. No, take them, but why? I don’t need—”
“Yeah, I know, but I figure, just in case you change your mind—”
“I won’t. I can’t. It’s too late, even if…” Dawn gave a troubled sigh. “I feel terrible. It’s wrong to stand him up, isn’t it?”
“As wrong as snow in July,” Cassie said cheerfully. She gave Dawn a quick hug. “I’m off. See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, okay. Have fun.”
The front door swung shut. Dawn leaned back on her hands, crossed her legs and swung one foot in a slow arc. Now what? She felt horribly guilty, picturing Gray waiting outside the hotel. She could call the front desk and ask someone to please go look for a tall man with dark hair, waiting near the main entrance. Better still, she could phone her office. Who was working tonight? Amy? She could ask Amy…
Sure she could. By tomorrow, the entire world would know she’d made a date with Gray and then called it off.
She looked at the clock. He’d be looking for her right about now. God, she felt awful. The right thing would be to drive to the hotel and tell him, to his face, that she was sorry, she’d changed her mind…but it was too late. Despite what Cassie said, she knew that Gray wouldn’t wait around indefinitely. Okay, then. She could drive to the Song and leave a note for him at the desk. That, at least, would be polite. And there’d be no risk of running into him. Surely, he’d have given up waiting by then.
Raising the Stakes Page 18
