Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me

by Jennifer Crusie

  “I’m sure it was important,” Sophie said. “Things are a little hectic in Temptation these days.”

  Amy sighed. “Yeah, but he knows I’m leaving and he went to the airport anyway.” She straightened her shoulders. “And I really do want to see L.A. Even if Davy says I’ll hate it, I want to see it.” She gave Sophie a weak smile. “I’ll come back for Thanksgiving. You’ll have me and Davy, just like always.”

  “Good enough,” Sophie said, trying not to cry. She hugged Amy good-bye, holding on tight for a minute, and then Amy pulled away to walk to the car without looking back.

  “Be careful,” Sophie called after her, and Amy waved without turning and got in the car, and Sophie realized from the way she bent over the steering wheel that she was crying. “It’s okay,” she called out to Amy, “you’re doing the right thing. Stay out of bat country. Everything will be fine. Nothing but good times.”

  Amy nodded. She backed up the convertible and made her U-turn to get out of Temptation, and then she was gone.

  This is good, Sophie told herself. We needed our own lives. This is good.

  She sighed once and then walked through the house and out the back door, letting Lassie out with her this time. “So it’s just us,” Sophie said, as they walked down the hill. “A girl and her dog.” Lassie barked and ran down to the dock, and Sophie followed her and kicked off her shoes to sit on the edge and dangle her feet in the water. The river was still high from the rain, and fast, and it flowed cool and sweet past her ankles.

  “So here’s the thing, dog,” Sophie said. “We’re out of a job, living in a house we’re going to be evicted from at any minute, deserted by our siblings, discarded by our uptight lover, and with nothing to show for it because a creep of a politician stole all our work.” Lassie lay down beside her, evidently overcome by the enormity of it all. “I’m looking for a bright side here, Lassie, I’m looking for a rainbow, but I am not seeing one.” Lassie pricked up her ears. “Okay, forget the rainbow. What we need is a plan.”

  Lassie barked and bounded off the dock, and when Sophie turned around, she saw Dillie on the porch, crouched down to meet the dog, and Phin walking down the slope toward her, looking as perma-pressed as ever in his white shirt and khakis. “Hello,” she said, and turned back to the river to get a grip. Don’t throw yourself at him, she told herself, scrambling for a plan. At least not for the first five seconds.

  Phin sat down behind her on the dock, and Sophie hugged herself to keep from reaching out and grabbing him. She could smell the sun on his shirt and feel the heat from his arm where it almost touched her.

  “I’d have been here sooner, but we were waiting for Amy,” Phin said. “Wes caught a ride with her to L.A.”

  Sophie forgot playing it cool and turned to look at him. “With Amy?”

  Phin nodded, staring out over the river. “He’s got so much vacation time, he can take it anytime he wants. So I suggested he take six weeks to go with her. He thought it was a good idea, and she didn’t seem to mind.” He stared out over the river. “It looked like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  His sleeve brushed her bare arm, and she stifled her sigh and told herself, Easy. “Although six weeks is a long time,” she said to make conversation, and then she frowned as she thought about it. “That’s a really long time. Can Duane handle it that long?”

  “No,” Phin said. “Wes got somebody else to cover for him.” He met her eyes, and his weren’t as cool as they should have been. “Can we stop talking about Wes now?”

  Sophie swallowed hard and gave up on cool. “Listen, I am really, really, really sorry about the premiere and the election, because we did make porn even though that wasn’t our movie—”

  “I know,” Phin said. “You also helped Rachel elope with Leo, you didn’t tell us Davy and Clea skipped, and you did something really vicious to Virginia Garvey. I’d love to know what that was.”

  He didn’t seem angry as he went down her list of sins, and he was sitting awfully close to her just to give her a hard time. Maybe she didn’t need a plan after all. “Right. So sue me.”

  “For what?” Phin said. “You don’t have any money.” Sophie stuck her chin in the air. “I’m going to own this farm pretty soon.”

  “Really.” Phin seemed interested. “And how are you going to do that?”

  Sophie let her chin drop. “I don’t know, exactly. Davy’s going to fix it.”

  “Sure he is.”

  “Davy’s never promised me anything he hasn’t delivered,” Sophie said. “I believe in Davy.”

  “As he does in you.” Phin shook his head. “But he doesn’t have the—” He stopped and she stole a look at him as she felt him straighten. He looked stunned. “Son of a bitch. He’s got Zane’s money.”

  Sophie blinked. “I don’t think so. He didn’t say anything about it.”

  Phin shook his head. “He’s got it.”

  Sophie thought about it and decided he was right. It would be like Davy to find money and separate it from those who didn’t deserve it. “Well, if he has it, I’m glad. At least somebody gets a happy ending out of this mess. Although, I’d be happier if the film we slaved over for a month still existed.” And if you were doing more than just sitting here. “I still can’t believe that lousy Stephen stole the tapes. And now they’re gone and he’s going to be mayor.”

  “Oh, you never know,” Phin said. “Those tapes could be stashed somewhere, just waiting to be found. Anything can happen.”

  Sophie looked at him, exasperated. “You know, just once I’d like to see you sweat over something.”

  Phin scowled at her. “In the past three weeks, you’ve seen me sweat more than anybody else on the planet, woman.”

  Sophie waved her hand. “I meant—”

  “I even yelled at you last night.” Phin eased up. “For which I apologize.”

  “It was kind of nice,” Sophie said. “At least you knew I was there.”

  “Oh, hell, Sophie, I always know you’re there.” Phin rolled toward her on one hip, and Sophie felt a flare of hope, but he was just digging something out of his back pocket. “Here.” He held out an emerald-cut diamond ring the size of her head. “Marry me, Julie Ann. Ruin the rest of my life.”

  “Hello.” Sophie gaped at the ring. “Jeez, that thing is huge. Where did you get it?”

  “My mother gave it to me,” Phin said, sounding bemused.

  Then the other shoe dropped. “Marry you?” Sophie said, and the sun came out and the birds began to sing and the river sent up a cheer. Marriage was probably out—Liz as a mother-in-law was too terrifying to contemplate, and Phin would never get elected again if he was married to a pornographer—but suddenly everything else was looking pretty good.

  Phin was still talking. “After the council meeting, she said, ‘If you’re going to marry that woman—’ ”

  “ ‘That woman’?” Sophie said. “Oh, gee, the holidays would have been swell.”

  “—‘do it right,’ and she took this off her finger, and handed it to me.” Phin shook his head. “Surprised the hell out of me. She didn’t seem upset about it at all.”

  “I thought you were never going to speak to me again,” Sophie said.

  “Then you haven’t been paying attention,” Phin said. “And the holidays are going to be fine. If I have to put up with Davy, you can put up with my mother. I already told her we’d be using ‘I Only Want to Be with You’ instead of ‘The Wedding March,’ and she took that pretty well, too. Concentrate. You want this ring or not?”

  It was so gorgeous. Against her better instincts, Sophie took it to hold it up to the sunlight. Amy could have lit the entire house with it. “I don’t think I can live up to this ring.”

  “You don’t have any choice,” Phin said. “All the Tucker brides get it. I thought I was going to have to ice-pick Mom to get it to you, but she came through after all. There’s a question on the table here. Are you going to marry me?”

  Sophie looked
at the ring again and sighed. “No,” she said and handed it back. “But I’ll love you forever and you can come sleep with me whenever you want.” She stretched to kiss him, so happy that she felt like bouncing.

  Phin leaned away from her. “Why not?”

  “Because I ruined your reputation,” Sophie said. “And because I don’t want to live in that damn big house on the Hill, I want to live here. And because we’ve only know each other three weeks and that’s too soon. But I like everything else about you, so I don’t see a problem here.” She leaned toward him again. “Kiss me, you fool.”

  Phin shook his head. “My reputation will recover, we can live here, and three weeks is plenty of time when they’re like the last ones. I doubt we’ll have to survive this much stress again for the rest of our lives.”

  “You’re missing some good stuff here,” Sophie said, annoyed that she wasn’t getting kissed.

  Phin shook his head again. “You don’t get me unless you marry me. I have standards. I’m the mayor.”

  “Only for another six weeks.” Sophie pulled back, frowning at him.

  “If I’m going to win the election,” Phin said patiently, “I can’t be cohabitating with a known pornographer. Weddings are popular. A big plus on the election trail.”

  “What trail?” Sophie gestured to the yard. “We’re in Temptation. You barely have an election bike path. And if you’re really going to try to beat Stephen—”

  “I’m not going to try to beat Stephen,” Phin said, “I’m going to annihilate Stephen.” He handed her the ring back. “Put that on and stop playing hard-to-get. God knows, you never have before.”

  “Hey,” Sophie said, but the ring glinted like an arc light, so she held it up again just to see it sparkle.

  “You’ll like being the mayor’s wife,” Phin said. “You get to wear the ring all the time. And you can run for city council and torture Stephen.”

  “Mmmm.” Sophie tilted the ring in the sun and watched it glow. It was huge. And politics might be fun. “Stephen’s probably not going to be running for council—Stephen’s going to be mayor, remember?” Sophie brought the ring into the shadow of their bodies and still it sparkled.

  “Wes made Stephen acting police chief while he’s gone.”

  Sophie tore her eyes from the ring. “What? Is he insane? Stephen with unlimited power will drive everybody in town craz—”

  She stopped as the beauty of it hit her.

  “Dear God. I’ve underestimated Wes.”

  “Many do,” Phin said. “Will you please say yes, so I can have my last term as mayor and unlimited, headbanging sex? I don’t think this is too much to ask. I’ve apologized for being a prick the other night, and I’m giving you a great ring.”

  “I haven’t heard the L word, so I’m assuming this is really a political move,” Sophie said, and Phin said, “Oh, for crying out loud,” and kissed her, and he felt so good against her, his mouth hot against hers, that she kissed him back hard, gripping his shirt for dear life, as Dillie yelled, “Yes!” from the porch.

  Phin pulled back and frowned at her. “Are you going to put that ring on? You have to now. Dillie thinks she’s getting a mother.”

  Sophie caught her breath. “You really want to spend the rest of your life with the daughter of a thousand felons?”

  “No,” Phin said. “I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life without you. I’ll deal with the felons later. Put the ring on.”

  “Wait a minute,” Sophie said. “Do you love me?”

  Phin met her eyes and took her breath away. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  “Say it,” she said, and he said, “I love you. I’ll always love you. Forever. It’s a life sentence. Now put the damn ring on.”

  Sophie leaned against him and closed her eyes because he felt so good. Don’t ever let me go, she thought, and then she opened her eyes and looked at the ring again. “Excellent.” She put it on her finger, working it a little bit because it was tighter than her mother’s rings had been and Phin said, “We’ll have it resized to fit you.”

  The ring made her hand look important—heavier, adult. “This is a good ring.”

  “Try not to lose it,” Phin said, his cheek against her hair. “That’s pretty much the family fortune right there. That and four thousand Tucker for Mayor: More of the Same posters, which are going to be useless. I told my mother I’m finished with being mayor after this election. I have you to thank for that, too.” He bent to kiss her again, and Sophie leaned toward him, thinking idly of what they could do with all those posters now that there were no Tuckers left to run—like paper their bedroom with them. Tucker: More of the Same, over and over again.

  Or . . .

  She straightened and bumped Phin’s nose with her forehead. “What?” he said.

  Four thousand Tucker for Mayor: More of the Same posters.

  And Phin only had two more years of mayor before he retired in relief to concentrate on the bookstore and pool, which meant Stephen would be mayor then, unless somebody named Tucker stepped into the breach.

  Hello.

  “What?” Phin said.

  She’d have two years to get to know everybody in town. That was only about two thousand people; she could do that. And she could make a difference, she was good at making people do what she wanted. She was born to make people do what she wanted.

  “My God,” she said, as the full meaning of her family’s legacy for lying, cheating, and scheming hit her.

  She was born to be a politician.

  “Sophie?”

  She leaned back against Phin. “I think I’ll take your name,” she said, smiling up at him sweetly. “Sophie Dempsey Tucker. It sounds . . .” She looked at the ring again. “. . . powerful.”

  “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Phin said, and she said, “Because your life just changed, but it’s okay. You can trust me.”

  She pulled him close, and over his shoulder, she saw Dillie on the edge of the porch, holding the stick of her Dove Bar for Lassie to lick. Behind them, maple trees waved cheerfully in the breeze, cotton clouds bounced across the blue, blue sky, and the early-September sun glowed on everything in sight.

  “Nothing but good times ahead,” Sophie said, and kissed him.

  Bet Me

  For

  Monica Pradhan McLean

  Because her price is above rubies

  Which she knows how to invest,

  And because every book she writes

  is a diamond

  Acknowledgments

  My Thanks To

  Meg Ruley

  for selling this book against my better judgment

  and for being right again,

  Jen Enderlin

  for buying this book against my better judgment

  and for being right again,

  St. Martin’s Press

  especially John Sargent, Sally Richardson, Matthew Shear,

  Kim Cardascia, John Karle, and John Murphy,

  for being supportive beyond the call of publishing

  (and a big kiss to Sally for matchmaking the movie option),

  Mollie Smith

  for improving my Web site,

  organizing my business records,

  critiquing my book, and illuminating my life,

  Val Taylor

  for working with me again

  even though I promised her I’d never rewrite this one,

  The Ladies of XRom

  especially Jo Beverley

  for coming up with the pumpkin couch,

  The Cherries

  for critiquing the first scene, researching recipes,

  putting up with my moaning, and being Cherries,

  and

  The Nantucket Beach Patrol,

  Police Department,

  Fire Department, and

  Cottage Hospital Emergency Room Staff,

  whose speed and skill ensured that

  this wasn’t a posthumous book.

  (
If you’re going to have an asthma attack in the surf,

  I strongly recommend you do so in Nantucket.)

  Women’s total instinct for gambling

  is satisfied by marriage.

  —Gloria Steinem

  Chapter One

  Once upon a time, Minerva Dobbs thought as she stood in the middle of a loud yuppie bar, the world was full of good men. She looked into the handsome face of the man she’d planned on taking to her sister’s wedding and thought, Those days are gone.

  “This relationship is not working for me,” David said.

  I could shove this swizzle stick through his heart, Min thought. She wouldn’t do it, of course. The stick was plastic and not nearly pointed enough on the end. Also, people didn’t do things like that in southern Ohio. A sawed-off shotgun, that was the ticket.

  “And we both know why,” David went on.

  He probably didn’t even know he was mad; he probably thought he was being calm and adult. At least I know I’m furious, Min thought. She let her anger settle around her, and it made her warm all over, which was more than David had ever done.

  Across the room, somebody at the big roulette wheel–shaped bar rang a bell. Another point against David: He was dumping her in a theme bar. The Long Shot. The name alone should have tipped her off.

  “I’m sorry, Min,” David said, clearly not.

  Min crossed her arms over her gray-checked suit jacket so she couldn’t smack him. “This is because I won’t go home with you tonight? It’s Wednesday. I have to work tomorrow. You have to work tomorrow. I paid for my own drink.”

  “It’s not that.” David looked noble and wounded as only the tall, dark, and self-righteous could. “You’re not making any effort to make our relationship work, which means . . .”

  Which means we’ve been dating for two months and I still won’t sleep with you. Min tuned him out and looked around at the babbling crowd. If I had an untraceable poison, I could drop it in his drink now and not one of these suits would notice.

  “. . . and I do think, if we have any future, that you should contribute, too,” David said.