The door closed behind Jake; she tried not to feel relieved and failed. His footsteps receded and his door thunked closed, leaving her apartment eerily silent.
Time to call Quinn back.
Her heels thudded too loudly on the hardwood floor as she crossed back to the phone and stood staring at it. She cleared her throat and the sound seemed to explode into the room.
She shouldn’t—couldn’t—get her hopes up. He was undoubtedly calling for an entirely unromantic reason. Maybe she’d left something at his apartment, in which case she’d matter-of-factly provide her address so he could mail it back. Maybe he wanted to warn her not to tell anyone at the office what had happened, in which case she’d swear earnestly to keep the icky truth untold. Maybe he had a message for someone at work he wanted her to pass along before he left, in which case she’d jot it down cheerfully and wish him happy trails.
Maybe he just wanted to know, the morning after, what had put it in her head to show up at his house expecting sex?
In which case she’d tell him, of course, and get to be embarrassed all over again.
Heart hammering alarmingly in her chest, she picked up the phone, bobbled it, recovered, then nearly dropped it a second time. This was crazy. She’d barely been nervous for her first face-to-face date with Jake, and here she was nearly losing it trying to call Quinn back after they’d been intimate for hours the previous night. Good thing there was no chance of long-term dating or she’d probably develop an ulcer.
Summoning courage she shouldn’t have needed, she dialed his number. Quinn answered on the first ring. “Cathy, hi. Thanks for calling back.”
Sigh. Even him saying that much was sexy to her. She closed her eyes and let the thrills have their way with her. “Hi, Quinn. You’re welcome. It sounded urgent?”
“It is.”
The thrills took on a panicky flavor. “Did something happen?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “I’ve got this crazy need to see you again.”
Cathy’s eyelids shot up; her jaw dropped. She caught herself starting to ask why and managed to spare herself that humiliation. “Wow. I’d…wow. When? I mean, you’re leaving and—”
“Right now. And this afternoon. And tonight, all night. And tomorrow until we have to go see our families.”
“Quinn…” She started laughing. She couldn’t help it. He wanted to see her! How the hell had this happened?
Who knew red underwear could give a girl this kind of power?
“Meet me at Hotel Peninsula at Fifth Avenue and Fifty-fifth Street in an hour for some champagne?”
Yes went from her brain to her lungs, which cycled breath up toward her vocal chords…which clenched and refused to let it out.
What did he hope to accomplish by spending twenty-four more hours in bed with her and then saying goodbye?
Well, okay, beyond orgasms. It wasn’t as if she was his last chance ever to have sex. He could find someone else by walking out of his apartment and announcing his need. The problem would be whittling down his choices.
“Cathy?”
“I’m here. I’m…” She was what?
“You don’t want to? You have other plans?”
“No. I…” Come on, Cathy, you have to say something. In desperation, she tried the truth. “I’m just surprised. I…wasn’t expecting to see you again.”
Silence. Her stomach sank.
“Wow. Okay. My mistake. I thought there was more than sex going on last night.”
Cathy turned abruptly around, as if someone had sneaked up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. “You did?”
“Look, never mind. You showed up in the underwear—I had no reason to think it was anything but one night. I just thought we connected. Anyway, have a great Christmas, Cathy. Maybe I’ll—”
“No. Wait. I thought we connected, too. I just didn’t think you did.”
“Why?”
“Because…you…have all those other women.”
“What other women?”
“Sandra said—”
He let out a groan of exasperation. “She’s not worth my time. When she makes comments about me having a girl in every city, what am I supposed to say? ‘Actually, Sandra, I believe sexual relations should take place in a committed relationship supported by a strong emotional foundation’.”
Cathy giggled and stupid hope rose in her chest, even knowing she and Quinn had no time to lay down such a foundation. “I’d love to see her face if you did.”
“Me too, actually. So is that it? Your only worry?”
“Uh…”
“What else?”
“You’re…who you are, and I’m…Cathy.” She cringed. Even to her ears, she sounded utterly pathetic.
“Well, just call yourself Catlaina or Catriona, or Ekatarina.” He rolled the r’s and made each name sound more lovely and exotic than the last one. “You’ll be fascinating to me either way.”
“Oh,” she said in a thrilled, breathy whisper.
“However, I will warn you, if you put yourself down one more time, I’m going to introduce spanking into our next session.”
“And…is that a threat or a promise?”
He laughed, and she felt herself soaring into the outer space of happiness. Making Quinn laugh made her feel…there was no other word for it…special. Which was so deliciously dangerous she needed immediately to make sure he understood about last night—and who she wasn’t.
“Quinn, I have to confess something.”
“Uh-oh. You’re seriously into S and M?”
“No. God, no. It’s about the underwear.”
“Aah, the underwear.” He sounded so wistful she giggled again.
“When I opened the present at the office, you were the only person not laughing. And then you winked at me, and so…I thought you gave it to me.”
“Wow.”
Silence. She cringed. “I never would have shown up if I didn’t think you wanted me there.”
He chuckled, low and deep. “I did want you there, Cathy. I just didn’t know it yet.”
She closed her eyes blissfully, a sappy smile firmly in place. She’d offered another confession, and gotten another vote of absolute acceptance in return. “Thank you.”
“I also want to see you at Hotel Peninsula in an hour.”
And she wanted to see him. Maybe for once she wouldn’t overanalyze and overthink but just go with her heart, even if it was doomed to be pulverized.
She took a deep breath made unsteady by her giddiness. “Yes. I’ll be there.”
5
“HEY THERE, GIRLFRIEND, you have some explaining to do.”
“I do?” Cell phone to her ear, Cathy hailed a taxi to take her to the Hotel Peninsula. Usually she took the subway, but on her second and final date with Quinn, she’d spare no expense. “About what?”Melinda groaned in exasperation. “C’mon, I’m on break, I don’t have all day. Where were you last night? Jake was over looking for you, and we hung out for a while waiting till he gave up and went to bed. I didn’t even hear what time you came in, and you were still asleep when I left this morning.”
“I know.” Cathy raised her eyes to the heavens and said a silent thanks. Last night, after the encounter with Quinn and then Jake, she hadn’t been in the mood to come up with a version of events for Melinda before she’d sorted through the turbulent feelings herself. Of course, she still hadn’t been able to. As soon as she thought she’d reached a place of solid understanding, the emotional ground shifted again.
“All I can say is you better have been out with girlfriends, because Jake is one fabulous piece of man flesh, and I will hate you if you hurt him. Or hurt you if you hate him. Or both.”
Cathy sighed. She’d answered the call from her roommate without expecting to have to defend herself. “I was with Quinn.”
“Quinn? Quinn from the office? Mr. International Playboy?”
“Yeah.” Her giggle sounded hideously foolish—she couldn’t help it. “Believe it or
not.”
“I can’t believe it. You had a date with Jake today and you spent last night with someone else?”
Cathy’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her roommate sounded furious. Not the reaction Cathy had expected at all, and she found herself instantly prickly. “I’m not married to Jake. I don’t owe him undying faithfulness over one brunch. I even tried to tell him about Quinn and he cut me off. If I’m being horrible, it’s to Quinn, rolling out of his bed to go on a date with someone else.”
Melinda snorted. “Like his type would care?”
“You’d be surprised.” A cab pulled over and Cathy clambered in. Until Quinn’s phone call today she would have thought the same thing. “Anyway, the whole thing started as a misunderstanding. I wasn’t supposed to be at Quinn’s last night.”
“So, what, you went to his place completely by accident?”
“Melinda…” Cathy carefully covered the mouthpiece of her cell and told the driver where she wanted to go. “Sarcasm helps nothing.”
“Okay, okay. Where are you, by the way? The signal’s terrible.”
“In a taxi.”
“Going…where?” Melinda’s tone reminded Cathy of her sixth-grade teacher, Mr. Bonaparte, just before Henry Ross got in his next nasty heap of trouble.
She rolled her eyes. “To meet Quinn.”
“You don’t deserve Jake.”
“Jake is a wonderful guy. I would like to get to know him better and I intend to in the coming weeks. Quinn is leaving the country. Today is my last chance to see him. He’s…It’s like…” She searched for an analogy Melinda could relate to passionately. “It’s like if Ashton Kutcher showed up and told you he wanted you. Wouldn’t you want that experience at least once?”
“Not if I had someone like Jake.”
“Aw, c’mon, Ashton Kutcher?”
“He’s a movie star. He’s fantasy material. We’re talking real life here and the real feelings of a guy who likes you.”
“Fine. I’m a shallow jerk.” She bounced back against the seat in frustration. “But I only went to Quinn’s Friday night because I thought my Secret Santa present came from him. I didn’t know Jake sent it.”
A small gasp. Then silence. Uh-oh. Melinda didn’t know about the underwear?
“Melinda?”
“Jake gave you a gift? Yesterday? Jake did?”
Cathy let her head drop into her hand, guessing what was coming. “Yes.”
“But that means…your horoscope…” Melinda sounded as if she were about to start crying. “All the good stuff happens to you.”
Cathy lifted her head at her roommate’s wail. “Come again?”
“You’re beautiful, built, totally together, you have a glamorous job, you have this incredible guy after you….” She sniffled. “Two incredible guys after you.”
“Uh, hello? Melinda? Are we talking about the same me?”
“And now, on top of it, Jake turns out to be your true love. While I’m a plain old waitress and can’t get a date to save my life, even when my horoscope says good things are going to happen. Like this month, I’m supposed to find great happiness. Right. I’ll probably not step in dog poo for the whole of December and that will be it for me.”
“Jeez, Melinda.” Cathy put a hand to her forehead, not sure where to start reacting to this unreasonable outburst. “First of all, deep down you have to know that astrology stuff is a load of—”
“Be right there,” Melinda called distantly. “I gotta go, Cathy. I’ll be home at four.”
Cathy sighed. This was going to go over like a lead balloon. “Uh…Melinda?”
“Yeees?”
“I won’t be home until tomorrow afternoon.”
Long silence, then the loud click of Melinda hanging up.
Aw, hell. Cathy stuffed her phone in her black shoulder bag, into which she’d packed the bare essentials for an overnight at Quinn’s. Her glow of happiness at the prospect of seeing him again had been invaded, both by the rare fight with Melinda, whom Cathy was starting to suspect had much stronger feelings for Jake than lust, and by Melinda’s accusations, which made Cathy feel like the dog poo Melinda wasn’t going to step in this month.
Maybe it was wrong of her to rush off into Quinn’s arms when Jake had every reason to think she was starting a relationship with him. But she’d thought Quinn was out of the picture when she went on the brunch date today, and he’d caught her totally by surprise with his phone call. She’d been so flustered with Jake in the room she hadn’t known what to say to either of them.
So she’d make a bargain with herself. One more day with Quinn, another brief taste of feeling every inch the woman-who-had-it-all Melinda described, then she’d come down from Planet Fantasy, become Jake’s love puppy and follow him, panting, all around New York.
Done.
The rest of the way into Manhattan, through the usual bumper-to-bumper traffic of midtown, she replayed Melinda’s other comments. Beautiful? Built? Totally together? Glamorous job? Who was that?
Every day Cathy got up and took her neatly packed lunch to work, came straight home and watched TV or knitted listening to music. That’s all she did, aside from dinner or a movie with friends, drinks with people from the office, occasional visits to museums, even more occasional plays, concerts, operas, ball games. Weekends at home with Mom and Dad or with friends at the Jersey shore. Family ski trips in the winter. Summer vacations in Vermont. Reunions with college friends as excuses to take Caribbean cruises…
She shifted uneasily and adjusted her seat belt, which had become too loose.
Her life didn’t sound all that dull. Did it.
The cab pulled up at the hotel on Fifth and Fifty-fifth Street and stopped with a jerk. Adrenaline poured through her at the thought of Quinn, the one and only wild oat Cathy had ever sown. Never mind that she’d stupidly become infatuated with this particular oat. Feelings that came on this strong this fast couldn’t be real. Inevitably they’d die as quickly as they’d sprung to life.
She fumbled for her purse, passed too much money to the driver and jumped out into the chilly sunlit day, tugging down the clingy black slitted skirt she’d bought a year ago at Melinda’s urging and had never worn, in spite of it being flattering and sexy, because she’d never felt it suited her.
She squared her shoulders and walked into the magnificent lobby. Today it suited her. Today she was Catlaina or Catriona or Ekatarina, woman with a thrilling life. Tomorrow she’d come down again and behave, acknowledge Jake and what she owed him, treat him with the honesty he deserved.
Until then, it was going to be all about her and Quinn.
QUINN WATCHED CATHY emerge through the gold-and-glass revolving door of the Peninsula Hotel and walk toward the lobby seating area where he waited. Was it his imagination or had she grown more beautiful in the few hours they’d been apart?
Her features hadn’t knocked him smitten immediately. Thick, straight medium-brown hair fell in a blunt sweep to her chin; hazel eyes shone dark-lashed and deep over high cheekbones covered by perfect skin. Her nose was average, lips slightly full. She had the type of neutral-palette face with excellent bone structure that photographers itched to paint and then capture. Beyond that, she exuded an air of freshness and joy irresistible in this city of hard-edged neurotics.The circumstances that had brought them together still amused and amazed him. The evening and her reactions made a lot more sense now that he understood why she’d come over. Only one question remained, and he’d waited to ask until they were together so he could see her face while she answered.
He greeted her with the return of her earrings and a brief kiss on the lips—brief because if he started kissing her for real, he wouldn’t want to stop, and the hotel probably wouldn’t enjoy two people going at it on one of their beige Queen Anne sofas.
Though he undoubtedly would.
However, he had no problem tightening his arms around her, pressing her against him and not wanting to let go. “Get any sleep?”
“Not much.” She was beaming, looking refreshed and happy. “You?”
“Not much.” He kissed her again, longer this time. “I thought we could have a drink here….”
“That sounds nice.” She turned her head to examine the double staircases that swept down nearly to the front door. “This hotel is incredible, I’ve never been in here.”
“But I just realized there’s no way I can sit across from you at a table and keep my hands to myself.”
“Ooh.” She turned back, expression mischievous. “That is a problem.”
“I know. Big one.”
“So?” She gripped the lapels of his favorite bomber jacket, her eyes glowing, undoubtedly to match his. “What instead?”
“I was thinking we should walk for a while on Fifth Avenue.”
“I’d love that. It’s so pretty this time of year.”
“And then…”
“Yes?” She gave a short laugh that sounded like pure happiness. “Then?”
“Grab an early dinner somewhere.”
“Mmm, good plan.”
“And then…”
She raised her eyebrows. “I think I’m going to like this part.”
“Go back to my place.”
“I know I’m going to like this part.”
“And try to wear each other out.”
“Perfect.” She smiled up at him and his heart started to hurt. Even making plans with Cathy was an emotional experience? He was in trouble.
“But first…”
Her smile dimmed at the change in his tone, and he squeezed her reassuringly. “I want to ask you something you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“Okay.” She spoke warily, eyes cautious.
“Who did give you that underwear?” He watched her carefully, hating the jealous fear that had been eating at him since she’d told him about the mix-up, praying she’d burst out laughing and name one of the female employees at Connoisseur.
Secret Santa Page 15
