“Hell, yes,” Liza said, as Roger came back with a tray of cake boxes and the cake topper. She ripped the bride and groom off the cake top and put it in front of Diana and said, “Pay attention, Little Stats, we’re about to have a moment.” Diana looked up and Liza stomped on the head of the groom, shattering it into dust. “Now,” she said. “He is officially history. And if there’s a God, he has a splitting headache.”
“I think you can count on that,” Roger said. “He got hit a lot.”
“Good,” Liza said. “Now we’re going back to Min’s and get drunk.”
Diana looked at Min through her tears. “Can I wear your bunny slippers?”
“You can have my bunny slippers,” Min said, thinking of Cal in furious misery.
She looked toward the door and saw him standing there, watching her, and then Tony was in her way, spreading out his hands, saying to Liza, “Nice job on the cake topper, ace. I suppose you had to kill the groom,” and Liza said, “Defend him and die,” and Tony said, “No, he was an asshole even without the haircut,” and Diana laughed and then cried again.
Out in the hall, Cal turned and Min saw Cynthie standing behind him. He stopped for a moment, and then he left, and Cynthie went with him.
Right. You wouldn’t stay to help because it’s not about you, is it, buddy? Min thought and then shoved him out of her mind and turned back to Diana.
“I’m a coward?” Cal had said to Tony when Min had gone, pleased to be fighting with somebody he could hit.
“I can’t believe you’re running away from this one,” Tony said. “Hell, Cal, you’re thirty-five, aren’t you tired of that shit by now?”
“You’re thirty-five, too,” Cal said grimly.
“And I have never in my life looked at a woman the way you look at Min,” Tony said. “I’d be pissed at her, that all-men-are-pigs bit is a pain in the ass, but I’d tell her that, I wouldn’t walk away from her. What’s wrong with you?”
“This is not about me,” Cal said.
“Jesus,” Tony said and turned back to the ballroom.
“Where are you going?” Cal said.
Tony shook his head. “Back to where there’s real trouble. We’re all in there. Why aren’t you?”
Then he walked away and Cal looked past him to where Min had her arms around Diana, and Bonnie was leaning close to them, and Roger was holding a tray of cake in one hand and patting Diana on the back with the other, and Liza was smashing something with her foot, and as Tony got closer, he spread his hands out, and Diana looked up and gave him a watery smile and Cal knew he was clowning again, doing his bit. Fuck, he thought. I should be in there. Then Min looked up and saw him, her face set and stormy, and he flinched and thought, The hell with you, and turned, furious and miserable to see Cynthie, looking lovelier than ever.
“Are you all right?” she said.
“No,” Cal said.
She smiled at him. “I know a place we can get a drink.”
“Where’s that?” Cal said.
“My place,” Cynthie said.
“Let’s go,” Cal said, and left, knowing Min was watching.
Cal spent most of Monday fuming about what a bitch Min had been, and Tuesday wasn’t much better. It didn’t help that in the same two days, Cynthie had called twice to talk him into the drink he’d turned down when he’d dropped her off at her place, every client had become intensely stupid, and his partners kept looking at him as if he’d been drowning puppies. Worst of all, he missed Min so much, wanted her so much, that it was making him sick. The crowning touch to his day was his mother, calling him at work to find out if he was seeing Cynthie again.
“No,” he said. “I’m never going to see her again, so get off my ass about her.”
“Calvin,” his mother said, in a voice that would have stopped him cold any other day.
“In fact,” he said, “since I’m such an overwhelming disappointment to you, I’m never going to see you again, either.”
“Calvin?” his mother said, a new note in her voice.
“Forget it,” Cal said, and hung up.
Tony came over and unplugged his phone. “You get this back when you call her,” he said. “Until then, you don’t talk to people.”
“I’m never calling her again,” Cal said. “She’s been a bitch my whole life and I’m done with her.”
“Not your mother, you dumbass,” Tony said. “Min.”
“She’s been a bitch for a month and I’m done with her, too,” Cal said. “The hell with both of them.”
“That’s very mature,” Tony said, sounding just like Min.
Roger shook his head and went back to work, and Cal ignored them both to savagely edit a seminar packet.
When he got home, he threw his suit coat on the couch, picked up his Glenlivet and then stopped as Elvis began to sing “She” next door.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he said and slammed the Glenlivet down.
When he pounded on Shanna’s door, a strange woman answered, brown-haired, a little below medium height. “Oh,” he said. “I thought . . . Shanna . . .”
“Oh, she’s here.” The woman smiled at him, a sweet smile that reminded him of Min, her eyes huge in her round face as she stepped back. “Shanna?”
Cal looked past her to Shanna, carrying two ruby goblets out of the kitchen.
“Cal!” she said, smiling. “This is Linda. Linda, this is my next-door neighbor, Cal.” Her smile widened and she jerked her head toward the stereo. “First date music.”
“Oh,” Cal said, taking a step back. “Hell, I’m sorry . . .”
“Don’t you just love Elvis?” Linda said.
“Yeah,” Cal said. “Good for you, Shan. I’ll see you later.”
“Stay for a drink,” Shanna said, with a look that telegraphed, Get lost.
“Can’t stay,” Cal said. “I have to . . .” He jerked his head toward his apartment, at a loss for what he might have to do over there besides fume.
“Is Min there?” Shanna said, putting the glasses down on the breakfast bar. “Maybe later we could—”
“No,” Cal said, his rage back on the surface again. “Min is not there.”
Shanna stopped, reading his face. “Oh, no. What did you do?”
“Strangely enough, nothing,” Cal said. “Why do you assume—”
“I don’t care,” Shanna said. “Get her back.”
“It’s done,” Cal said.
“No, it is not,” Shanna said. “You really lost something this time.”
“This is not about me,” Cal said.
“Yes, it is,” Shanna said. “This time it is. What happened?”
Cal shook his head. “Nope. Not interesting.” He nodded at Linda. “Very nice to meet you.” He turned to go but Shanna grabbed the back of his shirt in her fist and yanked.
“Sit down and tell me everything,” she said. “Or I will track you back to your apartment and bitch at you until you tell me there.”
Fifteen minutes later she said, “Well, it’s a toss-up as to which of the two of you is dumber.”
“Hey,” Cal said.
“You’re desperately in love with each other and you’re playing footsie with it. Do you know how rare what you have is?”
“Christ, I hope so,” Cal said. “I’d hate to think there was an epidemic of this garbage.”
“Stop it,” Shanna said. “You want her back.”
“Why would I—”
“Stop it!” Shanna said. “You want her back.”
Cal sat back on the couch and the memory of Min he’d been fighting for two days came back. He put his head in his hands. “Oh, Christ, I want her back. Which shows you how stupid I really am.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, call her,” Shanna said. “Tell her you’re sorry.”
Cal jerked his head up. “Hey, I’m the injured party here.”
“Yeah,” Shanna said. “That been keeping you warm at night, has it? Call her. Tell her you want to talk to her tomorr
ow night. Take a nice bottle of wine, tell her you love her, work out this non-problem, and live happily ever after.”
“Why tomorrow?” Cal said, confused. “If I’m going to apologize for something I did not do, I could go over there now—”
“Because by then you’ll have lost the bet,” Shanna said.
“I didn’t make the bet,” Cal said.
Linda moved a little farther away from him on the couch.
“Stop yelling,” Shanna said. “It doesn’t matter. You hit her where it hurts.”
“What—”
“She’s not beautiful,” Shanna said over him. “She’s not thin. She knows that everybody who sees you with her wonders how she got you.”
“That’s not true,” Cal said. “She’s amazing.”
“Right,” Shanna said. “We see that, but there are many people who don’t. Including, I believe, her ex-boyfriend who dumped her and then tried to make that bet with you.”
“Ouch,” Linda said.
“And then you come along, gorgeous and perfect, and you convince her you love her—”
“I do love her, damn it,” Cal said.
“—only it turns out you made a bet—”
Cal stood up. “I did not make that bet—”
“—that you could take her to dinner,” Shanna went on.
Cal sat down.
“And she thought you were trying to get her into bed for a bet, and then in the end, when things got tense, instead of standing by her, you walk out with your gorgeous ex-girlfriend.”
“Not good,” Linda said.
“Oh, hell.” Cal put his head in his hands again. “I can’t believe I fell for this. I can’t believe I let that asshole David Fisk do this. I am stupid.”
“Only this once,” Shanna said. “It’s going to be okay. All you have to do is throw the bet. Big deal, you lose a little pride and ten bucks.”
“Ten thousand bucks,” Cal said.
“Whoa,” Linda said, straightening. “This is like cable.”
“You bet David ten thousand dollars you could get Min into bed?” Shanna said, incredulous.
Cal looked at the ceiling. “Does anybody here listen to me?”
“He didn’t make the bet,” Linda told Shanna.
“Thank you,” Cal said.
“Everybody knows about the bet,” Shanna says. “It exists in everybody’s minds and if you sleep with her before . . . when is the bet up?”
“Tomorrow at nine, nine-thirty, I don’t know,” Cal said, trying to remember when they’d made the damn thing. Hadn’t made the damn thing. Christ, even he was doing it.
“Is she worth losing ten thousand dollars?”
“Hell, yes,” Cal said.
“Well, there you are. Go call her and tell her you’ll see her after you lose the bet.” Shanna folded her arms, implacable. “Don’t make me come over there and do it for you.”
“Do it,” Linda said to Cal. “It’s romantic in a perverse sort of way.”
“Thank you,” Cal said to her. “On that note, I’m going home.” He got up and left, ignoring Shanna’s “Cal.”
Shanna was wrong, he told himself as he poured himself another Scotch, but the thought didn’t have much conviction. He closed his eyes and thought of Min and tried to remind himself that it was all treachery, but he kept hearing her say, “I love you,” and he knew it was true.
“Oh fuck,” he said and when the doorbell rang, he yanked it open, prepared to deck Shanna if she was going to yap about Min anymore.
It was Cyn, looking hot as hell in her blue halter top and short black skirt. She tilted her head up at him and her glossy black hair swung back. “I know you’re upset,” she said, softly. “I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I’m all right,” he said, as she stepped closer.
“No, you’re not,” she said. “She hit you hard.” She held up a bottle of Glenlivet. “Come on, talk about it. You’ll feel better.”
She’ll do anything I ask, Cal thought. And the world is full of women like her. Why do I need Min?
Cynthie smiled up at him, lovely and warm. “Do I get to come in?”
“No,” Cal said. “I have to make a phone call.”
Chapter Fifteen
Cynthie said, “I can wait,” and he remembered Min saying, “You get to know the real us and then you leave us.” Cynthie smiled up at him, her heart in her eyes, and he thought, Oh, hell.
He shook his head at her. “I’m sorry. Somebody explained to me what I’ve done to you. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to hurt anybody, but I never meant to marry you, either.”
Cynthie took a deep breath and nodded. “That’s all right, I can wait—”
“There’s somebody else,” Cal said, as gently as he could. “I’m sorry, but I’m in love with somebody else.”
She flinched. “No. You love me.”
“I never said that. You know that.”
“Yes, but you do.” Her hands gripped the bottle tighter. “You don’t realize it, but you do. We’re perfect for each other.”
He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t see how desperate she was.
“It’s Min,” Cynthie said. “I know it’s Min. Look, she’s a nice woman, but she’s not me.”
“I know,” Cal said. “That’s the problem.” Cynthie’s face twisted, and he said, “I’m sorry, Cyn.”
He shut the door in her face and leaned against the door for a moment, trying not to think about how much damage he’d done to her, not even wanting to think about anybody else.
Except Min.
Fix this, he told himself and sat down to figure out a way.
At about the same time Shanna was reading Cal the riot act, Min was listening to Liza say, “This is really good,” as she speared the last marsala-soaked mushroom at Min’s dining room table. Then Liza said, “Tell me again why we’re doing this.”
“Because we always had chicken marsala on Tuesday nights,” Min said, stabbing her chicken with no enthusiasm as Elvis prowled about her ankles, impatient for leftovers. “I’m trying to cloud the association.”
“Very practical,” Liza said. “Except you’re miserable, so there’s not enough cloud in the world, babe.”
“May I have the butter, please?” Diana said, picking up another piece of bread from Emilio’s.
Bonnie pushed the butter dish her way. “Have you heard from him?” she asked Min.
“Of course not,” Min said, revving up her anger again so she wouldn’t have to think about how she’d been waiting for a phone call for two days. “He’s mad at me. Can you believe it? He’s mad at me. Did I make a bet? Noooo. But he’s—”
“Oh, please, no more of this,” Liza said. “You’ve bitched about him for two days. Face it, the man has a point.”
Min put down her fork, and Diana stopped buttering her bread.
“He does not have a point,” Min snapped. “This whole mess is because he does not have a point and now you’re turning on me? It’s not enough that Bonnie sandbagged me with that fairy tale garbage, now you—”
“It’s not garbage,” Bonnie said. “You got the fairy tale. You got the handsome prince who loved you. It worked.”
“It did not work,” Min said, slamming her hand down on the table. “He went into a snit and left. Just my luck, I get a snitty prince. Which is why he wasn’t a prince. Which is why I don’t believe that garbage. I do not believe in the fairy tale, okay?”
“I don’t think it matters,” Bonnie said, mild as ever. “The fairy tale believes in you.”
Min turned to Liza. “Tell her.”
Liza leaned her elbow on the table. “She’s right.”
Min flopped back in her chair. “Oh, for crying out loud. If this wasn’t my apartment, I’d leave.”
“Well, look at it from his point of view,” Liza said. “He didn’t make the bet. He tried not to date you, but he had to keep coming back because he was nuts about you, and you kept kissing him and then turn
ing him down. He was patient, he charmed your parents, he was good to your friends, he found your snow globe, he taught you to cook, he got you a cat, for Christ’s sake, and then it turns out that while he was knocking himself out for you, you were playing him for a fool.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Min said, but her anger cooled considerably.
“He really is a sweetie,” Diana said, licking butter off her lip.
“Liza’s right,” Bonnie said. “You know how awful school was for all three of these boys. They’re all sensitive about being dumb. You hit Cal right on his sore spot, in front of his friends, in front of Cynthie, in front of David.”
“Ouch,” Min said faintly. She tried to summon up her old outrage over the bet, but after two days of venting, she’d been running out of steam anyway.
“I know you needed to be mad to deal with the pain,” Liza said. “I do that, too. But if you want him back, get over it. Because if there wasn’t a bet—”
“There wasn’t,” Min said miserably. “I believe him on that.”
“Then he’s given you everything and you haven’t given him a damn thing.”
“That’s pretty harsh,” Bonnie said to Liza.
“Why didn’t you just ask him about the bet?” Liza said.
“I did,” Min said.
“You said, ‘Did you make a bet with David that you could sleep with me in a month?’ ”
“No,” Min said, not meeting her eyes. “I asked him if there was anything he wasn’t telling me.”
Bonnie nodded. “And what did he say?”
Min sat back. “He kept confessing to things that weren’t the bet.”
“That must have been fun for everyone,” Liza said. “Why didn’t you flat out ask him?”
Min put her head in her hands. “I was afraid, okay? You know how all those people say, ‘If they just talked about their problems, they’d all go away’? Well, I bet none of those people talk about their problems. I mean, it sounds good, but it’s a terrible gamble.” She looked up at Liza. “I knew he made that bet. I heard him. And I . . .” She stopped and swallowed. “I knew I only had a month and I wanted that month with him.” She shook her head. “Not everybody faces life head-on the way that you do.”
“Well, they should,” Liza said. “You screwed up. So now you’re going to have to grovel.”
Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me Page 69
