I closed my eyes before murmuring, “Same here.”
We said goodbye and I disconnected the call on an exhale, feeling wobbly and acknowledging the sudden urge to eat a party-size bag of peanut M&M’s. I settled for a cup of nonfat, sugar-free vanilla yogurt with a little cocoa sprinkled over the top (not the same, no matter how much the weight-loss gurus try to convince you otherwise) and tucked myself into a chair with my legs beneath me.
So I was going to see Redford again. I lay my head back on the chair and released a sigh that ended in a moan. Just speaking to him on the phone had left me feeling fuzzy, as if he had brushed his naked body against mine. How pathetic was I that the mere sound of his voice could rattle me after all this time? Especially when Redford had obviously found someone else to brush up against.
I wasn’t naïve enough to think that Redford hadn’t taken other lovers after our annulment. But because our sexual relationship had been so radical and so…incomparable for me, deep down I guess I’d hoped it had been for him, too. That he hadn’t played the “kiss you all under” game with anyone else, or that no other woman had left teeth marks in his shoulder.
I laughed at myself. I hadn’t really expected Redford to be pining for me, had I?
I mindlessly spooned yogurt into my mouth, sucking on the spoon (which even Freud would have deemed too obvious for analysis), while my thoughts coiled into themselves in confusion. I was scraping the bottom of the container with an eye toward licking the foil lid when the phone rang again.
My pulse jumped—maybe Redford had forgotten to tell me something. I idly wondered if he had kept my phone number and address somewhere, or if he’d simply looked me up through directory assistance. I padded to the bedroom where I’d left the handset and pushed the connect button. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Kenzie said. “I called back, but the line was busy.”
I wavered, wondering if I should tell anyone about my impending reunion with Redford. But I needed to tell someone, so I spilled my guts.
Kenzie was quiet for a few seconds, then said, “Damn. He’s the one with the huge schlong, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “Do we have to go there?”
“Are you prepared to see this man again?”
“Sure,” I said, trying to sound casual. “It’s no big deal.”
“I don’t know, Denise. You were really weird when you came back from Las Vegas. Kind of…zombie-like.”
A changed woman, like Eve after eating from the Tree of Knowledge. I swallowed hard. “I’ll be fine.”
“If you say so,” she said, but sounded doubtful.
“Subject change. So you were saying that you’re not coming back to the city this week.”
“Right. I, um, haven’t been feeling very well, and I think I’ll take it easy here for the next couple of weeks.”
“Flu bug?” I asked, flopping onto my bed.
“Actually…it’s morning sickness.”
A few seconds passed before her words sank in, then I sat straight up. “You’re pregnant?”
She laughed. “So it would seem.”
“Omigod…congratulations!” Disbelief rolled over me in waves. The fact that one of us was going to be a mother made me feel so…old.
“Thanks, Denise. Sam and I both are thrilled, of course.”
“As you should be,” I said, feeling myself going misty. “When are you due? Do you know what you’re having? Do you have a name picked out?”
Kenzie laughed again. “August, no, and no. Lots of decisions to make between now and then. Oh, there’s the other line. Talk to you later in the week?”
“Sure.” I congratulated her again on the baby, then hung up, unsettled by Kenzie’s declaration, yet knowing it was inevitable that we all move on with our lives. At least, it seemed as if everyone else was moving forward. Even Redford had moved on. His phone call proved that I, on the other hand, was pathetically mired in the past, more so than I would have thought possible.
With new resolve, I removed the wedding gown from my closet and lifted the plastic. I would need a good photo in order to list the dress on eBay and get top dollar. With trepidation, I undressed, then stepped into the gown and shimmied the satiny dress over my hips. The cool fabric glided over my skin like a caress. I fastened the halter around the nape of my neck, then reached around to pull up the zipper that ended just below my shoulder blades. Minus the leotard, the dress fit even better. I couldn’t resist a peek into the full-length mirror sitting in the corner of my cramped bedroom, and at the sight of myself in the ethereal gown, I nearly lost my nerve.
I imagined looking down at the end of the aisle and seeing my groom standing there, his eyes shining with love and desire at the sight of me in this gorgeous gown. Later he would remove the dress with kisses and caresses, his hands and breath so hurried that the gown would have barely fallen to the floor before we were buried inside each other.
I blinked, realizing my arms were covered with goose bumps, and my nipples were budded. I wanted to keep this dress, but doing so would be wasteful and foolish. Just having it in my closet was making me silly and soft. And horny.
So I made myself step away from the mirror and, with relative detachment, set up my digital camera and tripod. I set the timer and posed for three shots in a bridal stance. Then I removed the dress and carefully replaced the plastic with a bittersweet pang. Some woman out there would both appreciate and be able to use the dress, and that gave me a bit of solace.
I pulled up the digital photos, selected the best one and cropped out my head and other extraneous background details. Then I logged on to eBay and listed my impulsive purchase in an eight-day auction, ending next Monday evening. I wanted to be done with the auction before I had to turn my attention to the audit.
Exquisite designer wedding gown, NWT (new with tags), size ten, creamy white, halter-style dress with pearl-studded skirt and short train, will make any bride feel like a princess on her special day.
I sighed while transferring the details from the tags to the screen. My heart hung low in my chest, but I knew that getting rid of the dress would help to clear my head of past and future marriage fantasies. No wonder Barry wouldn’t commit. I was probably giving off “rewind” vibes.
A fact that I repeated to myself over and over as I dressed for our dinner that evening. Since I’d had precious little to eat since the yogurt, my stomach was howling for food. And I had a headache from playing my conversation with Redford over and over in my head. But when I walked up to Barry, who was sitting at the bar in the hushed atmosphere of the posh restaurant, I forced myself to tamp down all thoughts of Redford and the past. Barry was kind, successful, ambitious and…here…in New York…where my life was. One could not underestimate the necessity of proximity to keep a relationship alive.
Barry stood and smiled back, but his eyes reflected something else—regret? Fear? Guilt? He brushed a quick kiss on my mouth and hurriedly threw back the rest of his drink.
Something was wrong…I could sense it. It was obvious from his stiff body language as we followed the hostess to a premium table, as he held out my chair, as he claimed his own seat and snapped the linen napkin over his lap. He didn’t seem to want to make eye contact, and he was pulling on his ear—a sure sign that something was on his mind. Tiny alarms sounded in my head as I sipped from my water glass, and my mind started tossing out scenarios to explain his nervous behavior. He’d been offered a job in L.A. Ellen had changed her mind about doing business with Trayser Brothers. Then the truth spanked me:
Barry was going to dump me.
Of course—it made perfect sense. A classy restaurant on a Sunday evening…Break the news in public, then start the week with a clean slate as a single man. Leave town for a few weeks and things would be smoothed over by the time he returned. He’d asked me to meet him to avoid the awkwardness of taking me home afterward, had taken his toiletry bag home to avoid a trip back to my place. I swallowed a mouthful of water with my disappointment, my app
etite gone. This was what I got for fantasizing about another man who wasn’t even around, while ignoring a perfectly good guy who was right under my nose.
Moving and speaking awkwardly, Barry ordered a pricey bottle of shiraz. I perused the menu, seeing nothing, and watched him under my lashes, my nerves jumping. When the wine arrived and Barry lifted his glass to mine, he made eye contact for the first time.
“To a great friendship,” he said, wetting his lips.
Sadness bled through me and I clinked my glass against his, wondering if he would make me wait until the end of the meal to do the deed. But after he drank from his glass, his eyes changed, and I steeled myself for his brush-off.
He reached across the table and clasped my hand. “Denise, we’ve been together for a while now…long enough, I think.”
I nodded, determined to make it easy for him, easy for me.
“Will you marry me, Denise?”
A full ten seconds passed before his words registered. I squinted at him, confused. “Pardon me?”
He grinned. “You’re going to make this hard, aren’t you?” He swung out of his seat and got down on one knee in front of my chair. A stir sounded around us as other diners turned to stare. He reached into his jacket pocket and removed a black velvet ring box, then opened it to reveal a diamond the size of a peanut M&M. “Denise Cooke, will you marry me?”
My jaw was slack, which I knew wasn’t a particularly attractive expression for me, but I couldn’t help it. “Stunned” wasn’t the right word—I was positively staggered. I felt the eyes of strangers on me, the air heavy with anticipation. Unwittingly, the setting of my first proposal rose in my mind—the bar, the paper clip Redford had bent into a band as a temporary engagement ring until, he’d said, he could retrieve his grandmother’s diamond. In retrospect, it all seemed so childish.
I stared at the rock Barry offered me, overwhelmed by his gesture. “It’s huge,” I murmured.
“It’s one of those new laboratory-made diamonds. About one-fourth the cost of a regular diamond.”
I tried not to feel deflated. “Oh.”
“I knew you’d approve, as frugal as you are.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“So,” he said, his voice high and tight as he gave a slight nod to the people staring at us. “What do you say, Denise?”
My insides were like hash. I felt like an idiot—I was sure he was trying to break up with me, and the man had been trying to propose! He wanted to marry me. It was my second chance to get it right.
I looked into Barry’s shining eyes and my heart welled. I knew this man’s likes and dislikes—that he wanted to have children…someday, and that we would always live in a big city, pursuing our big-city careers. There was no mistake that Barry and I were perfectly suited to one another. I took a deep breath and said, “Yes, Barry…I’ll marry you.”
6
CINDY AND JACKI stared at my left hand in the middle of the café table, then at me, their lunch salads forgotten.
“Oh, my God,” Cindy said. “Barry proposed!”
I nodded. “Last night.”
“It’s a freaking boulder,” Jacki said, her eyes bugged. “He must have spent a fortune.”
I decided not to let them in on the “laboratory created” part. They might try to convince me it wasn’t romantic to scrimp on an engagement ring. In truth, I appreciated the fact that Barry was saving money for other things, like our wedding, our honeymoon, disability insurance.
Cindy’s eyes grew moist. “And this on top of Kenzie’s baby news. I’m just so happy.”
I squeezed her hand, sending up a little prayer that she’d find a good man soon.
“Have you told Kenzie?” Jacki asked me.
“Not yet,” I said, wondering what Kenzie would say, then wondering why I thought she’d be anything but happy for me. “I’m going to call her later.”
Jacki raised her water glass. “To the happy couple.”
I clinked my glass to theirs in appreciation.
“Well, that’s three down, one to go.” Jacki winked at Cindy. “You’re next.”
Cindy smiled wistfully. “I hope so.”
“How’s the class going?”
“So far, so good. There’s a really cute guy in the class who’s been talking to me. And I found my dream wedding dress Saturday.” Then she turned to me, her eyes and mouth rounded. “Oh, Denise—it worked! You buying a wedding gown turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy!”
“Huh?” Jacki said.
I squirmed as Cindy relayed the “running of the brides” stint and how I’d wound up with a gown.
“Did you know Barry was going to propose?” Jacki asked.
I shook my head. “No idea. Evidenced by the fact that yesterday afternoon, I listed the gown on eBay.”
Cindy’s face fell. “You didn’t.”
I sighed. “I did. And the reserve price I set has already been met.”
Jacki lifted an eyebrow. “Knowing you, the reserve price was more than you paid for it.”
“Well, yeah, but it’s a great dress. If I’d have known that Barry was going to propose…”
“So cancel the auction,” Cindy said.
I frowned. “After bidding starts, I can’t.” Since I made spending money by selling odds and ends on eBay, I wasn’t willing to risk being banned from the online auction house.
“Don’t look so glum,” Cindy said. “You’ll find another dress.”
I picked at the fruit on my plate. “It’s not just the dress,” I said carefully, acknowledging the dread that had kept me awake all night.
“What?” they asked in unison, leaning forward.
“I, um, never quite got around to telling Barry that I was married before.”
Jacki’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? It never came up?”
I shook my head. “I thought about telling him lots of times, but I was afraid he’d think I was—I don’t know—hinting or something.”
Jacki pursed her mouth. “Last night might have been a good time to say something.”
“He had to leave for L.A. earlier than he expected,” I said. “We barely had time to finish dinner.” My excuse sounded lame even to my ears. I groaned and dropped my fork onto my plate. “What am I going to do?”
“Call him today and tell him,” Jacki said emphatically.
“Yeah, Denise,” Cindy said. “Your marriage to Redmon—”
“Redford.”
“—only lasted two weeks.”
“Six,” I corrected.
“Still,” she argued. “You had the marriage annulled. That means it never happened.”
I smirked. “Only it did happen.”
Cindy scoffed. “It’s not as if you have this secret long-term relationship in your history, or as if your ex-husband is going to show up on your doorstep.”
I grimaced. “Well, actually…”
They lunged forward again. “What?”
I told them about the audit letter and the phone call from Redford, my sense of panic increasing as their jaws dropped lower.
“Your ex-husband is coming here?” Jacki asked. “The really hot one with the big Johnson?”
I frowned. “He’s not my ex-husband. He’s my…non-husband. And I’m afraid if I tell Barry now, he’ll think there’s unfinished business between me and Redford.”
Jacki angled her head. “Is there?”
“No!” I said quickly. “Of course not. Redford has a family.”
“He remarried?”
“Yes,” I said, then squinted. “Well, he didn’t say so exactly, but he mentioned children…girls.”
“Marriage and children aren’t mutually exclusive,” Cindy pointed out.
“Is he still in the Marine Corps?” Jacki asked.
“Retired a few months ago. He joined his family horse business in Kentucky.”
“Oh, that’s so romantic,” Cindy said. “He’s a cowboy! Does he wear a hat?”
“I have no idea. He has
his life, and I have mine. When this audit is over, we’ll never see each other again.”
“What about this audit?” Jacki asked. “Are you in trouble?”
“I don’t think so. I called the field office this morning to confirm our appointment and from all appearances, it seems pretty routine.” At least I hoped so.
“You’d better be careful,” Jacki said, pointing her fork at me. “The IRS can ruin your life.”
“My cousin Joey had to go to jail for six months,” Cindy declared.
I frowned. “That’s kind of extreme…did he not even bother to file?”
“Oh, he filed, but a fast-talking tax preparer found all these so-called ‘deductions’ that saved him a ton of money. Next thing you know, my cousin’s being audited and the tax preparer has skipped town. Joey winds up in the clink, with a record for fraud. He lost his job and his wife left him. Sad.”
I felt myself go pale. Trayser Brothers would fire me on the spot if I was charged with tax fraud. “I d-don’t expect anything like that to happen. But still, I’d like to keep this quiet,” I said sheepishly. “My clients might misunderstand.”
“Does Barry know?” Jacki asked.
I shook my head.
“So you don’t plan to tell Barry about the audit, about Redford, or that you were married?”
“Technically, she wasn’t married,” Cindy argued.
“Not according to the IRS,” Jacki murmured, then gave me a probing look before turning back to her salad.
I studied a crouton, feeling guilty and miserable.
“When does the cowboy arrive?” Cindy asked, changing the subject with a sledgehammer.
“Friday.”
“The audit is Friday?”
My cheeks warmed. “Um, no, the audit isn’t until next Tuesday, but Redford wants to do some sightseeing.”
Jacki looked up. “You’re taking the man sightseeing?”
My defenses reared. “Just like I’ve taken dozens of friends sightseeing who’ve come to the city. And he wants to go look at a stud for sale upstate.”
Jacki’s mouth jumped at the corners. “And you always take visitors stud-shopping.”
My Favorite Mistake Page 5
