by Jackie Anton
“I don’t know, Skip, but if Cutter wasn’t a man of his word, I might not have made it home. How the heck am I supposed to get out of that dinner with the Potters on Tuesday night?”
She tried to regain some self-control. By rote, she went through the routine of a house check: Mom and Gram both in their rooms, next lock the doors, fill Skip’s water bowl, and turn off the lights. Lexie was all ready to burrow under the covers when the musical notes of her phone blasted like a full symphony orchestra in the silent house. She snatched it up, quickly silencing it. Oh, God! It was Cutter! She let it roll over, and was about ready to put it back on the charger when it vibrated in her hand. This time she poked it, and answered in a hushed voice, “What?”
“Just wanted to make sure everyone was safely home.”
“They are all sleeping. At least I hope they are all still asleep.”
“Sweet dreams, Lex.”
“Go to sleep, Cutter.”
While Cutter and Mr. Potter were negotiating high finances the following day, she was visiting with Melinda. Lexie was the bearer of a much larger container of baked goods this time. She also purchased two large glasses of tea, complete with accordion-necked straws at the cafeteria on her way in. A peek inside at the contents of the huge vessel sent her friend into peals of laughter.
“Wow! Are you trying to put me into a diabetic coma?” Mel inventoried the confections: oatmeal cookies, brownies, chocolate chip cookies, and macaroons. “When did you bake all of this, Lexie?”
“Last night. I couldn’t sleep, thanks to a certain Texan’s twisted sense of humor. All my online work was caught up, and I was too agitated to read, so that left baking. Anyhow, you don’t have to eat it all at once.”
Mel was intrigued; it was unusual for any man to have much of an effect on Lexie’s focus. “What did he do?”
“Just as I was ready to snuggle under the quilt Gram made at her quilting bee, the one she gave me for my birthday when I turned twenty-one, he calls, and ends with ‘sweet dreams’. I mean he…knew damn well I wouldn’t be able to sleep after that.”
Mel was munching on a nut-filled brownie while contemplating what she had just heard. “That doesn’t sound so bad. Why would that keep you up all night?”
Lexie just stared at her friend, selected an oatmeal cookie, rationalizing it as the breakfast she’d skipped, and washed it down with a long drink of tea. She set her drink back on the adjustable bed table they were sharing, and gave her friend a very graphic description of the scene in the drive the night before.
“I told you he was here for more than one reason. But no, you didn’t want to acknowledge the hot looks cast your way. Well, Lexie, you can’t hide from the truth any longer. You’ve found Mr. Right.”
“Cut the Mr. Right crap, Mel. It was just pure animal magnetism. The man is loaded with it.”
“So, you admit you’re attracted to him.”
“I don’t deny that. Still, it’s no excuse for losing control. Thank God that I don’t have to see him, or try to avoid the prospect today. I don’t think I can face him.”
“Aren’t the two of you going to dinner with Mom and Dad tomorrow night?”
“Don’t remind me. Actually, I was thinking of taking a trip up to Kelly’s Island, and keeping a large part of Lake Erie between us until he goes home.”
“Come on, Lexie, you’re not a coward. Are you going to let him get away? You’ll regret it the rest of your life if you do.”
“Mel, I know you’re a hopeless romantic, but let’s get real here. Cutter and I are diametrically opposed. I mean talk about opposites attracting! We would be at war constantly.”
“Are you sure? The two of you looked pretty comfortable together the few times I have seen you in his company.”
“All that aside, Mel, there is no way in hell that I am ever going back to Texas. I hate the place.”
“You can’t hate the whole state, Lexie. You only saw a small part of it during the worst drought in a century.”
“Do you watch the news at all? It’s not only the drought and wildfires; drug traffickers run their poison unchecked across the border and onto private farms and ranches. They threaten the owners and their families with impunity.”
“Lexie, you know we have more than our share of crime in Ohio. Instead of drought, we have flooding of rivers and creeks, but we have a lot of the same problems.”
“Stop trying to rationalize things, Mel. We don’t have rattlesnakes, or Maria Rodriguez.”
“I know. It is kind of a role reversal. You’re usually the rational one trying to keep me from over-reacting. Who, the hell, is Maria Rodriguez?”
Lexie caught her best friend up on the events leading to her quitting her bookkeeping position at the Rocking R. She stayed until mid-afternoon, when Mel’s Mom showed up. On the trip home, she decided to splurge and spend part of the recompense from the Rocking R on a new dress for tomorrow night. She blew the whole wad and then some, and she still had a hair appointment that was not in her short-term plans or budget.
Back home again, she showered, climbed into her long-neglected bed, and blanked out, not surfacing again until Gram sent Skip to retrieve her for dinner. Halfway through the meal, Gram burst her hard-won tranquility.
“Alexandra, do you think that it is appropriate to carry on with your cowboy in our drive? If you can’t control your baser instincts, at least seek some privacy. I am sure you are the talk of the whole neighborhood today.”
“God, Grandma, it’s not like we were humping in the damn drive!” Lexie was really hoping that no one, especially her grandmother, had caught last night's performance.
“Don’t use that tone and nasty language with me, young lady! You will have to atone to the Lord for using his name in such a context.”
Her mom glared at Gram. Then Mom inquired what she had done with herself for the day, after her pre-dawn baking spree.
“I spent most of the morning as well as the early afternoon with Mel. Then I went shopping and blew a lot of money I don’t have to spare on a new dress for tomorrow night. It had to be altered in the bust and shortened, so I have to pick it up in the morning.”
“Oh, I wish you would have called me. I could have taken a long lunch and gone with you.”
“Sorry, Mom, it was a last minute decision. Mel kind of talked me into it. I really was thinking of canceling the whole thing; you know how I hate dinner at the Potters' country club.”
“It wouldn’t be very hospitable to leave Cutter in the lurch when you have already accepted as a couple, and if he went alone, I’ll bet he wouldn’t stay that way long.”
“Yeah well, if they want him, they can have him. Actually, I’m still thinking of taking a vacation trip alone, and coming back after he returns home.”
“You don’t want to do that, Lexie. You will regret it the rest of your life.”
“Now you are starting to sound like Mel.”
Evelyn Parker took a sick day and escorted her daughter to the dress shop for her final fitting. Lexie brought along a pair of gray leather pumps that she had purchased the day before. She had to admit the dress was worth every penny. The soft, shimmering, gunmetal gray creation hugged her like a second skin. A high turtleneck collar was contrasted with a diamond-shaped cutout placed just beneath it and ending enticingly slightly above her bust. Sleeveless, with a low-scooped back, the dress flowed from her hips to the tops of her new shoes. The skirt was split on the right side from her knee down, allowing free movement.
“Lexie, you will be the belle of the ball.”
“Yeah, well, you know what happened to Cinderella at midnight.”
Lexie had her mother drop her off for the hair appointment. Eve continued to shop while the beautician worked on her daughter. She had seen a dress that was the answer to her search for something special at the shop where Lexie had picked up her beautiful dress.
Cutter called her about six to say they were running late. He had to negotiate terms for the dinner. I
t seemed that Mr. Potter wanted to pick them up in a limo, and Cutter wanted his own vehicle, so the two of them could come and go on their own time schedule. Lexie would’ve loved to have been there when the two powerful personalities squared off. Benson Potter was the hands-down champion at that kind of persuasion, but it appeared that Cutter won the face-off. She replaced her gold studs with a pair of single pearls. It was a trick putting on the long dress, even with her Mom’s help, without messing up the intricate French braid that cost as much as some of her college texts had. She consoled her thrifty nature by reminding herself that the cost and tip were helping to stimulate the economy. That excuse was beginning to wear as thin as her shrinking bank account; she’d also used the same rationalization when she bought the dress and the shoes. By the time she slipped into the soft leather pumps, Mom returned with her beautiful, gray fox jacket.
“This will go perfectly with that dress and protect you from the cool night air.”
“Thank you.” What else could she say? She was having trouble not tearing up and ruining her makeup as it was, so she just gave her mom a big hug. Lexie prayed that she didn’t turn into a small urchin in rags with Mom’s gorgeous coat transformed into little gray foxes running for the hills. Fortunately, she didn’t have much time left to conjure up more negative scenarios.
Cutter looked as much a fairytale character as she did, dressed in a navy western suit with darker yokes. The white shirt and navy tie contrasted big-time with his perpetual southwestern tan. They arrived pretty much on time, and as he handed over the keys of the rental to the valet she wondered if he would have been so blasé about surrendering them if they had been for his own vehicle. The fantasy couple was escorted to the Potters’ table after she reluctantly checked her mother’s jacket. The Potters were already seated, including Mel flanked on the right by her father and on the left by Booker. Cutter destroyed the boy-girl rotation by seating himself between Lexie and Booker. He wasn’t particularly discreet in his suggestion to the maître d'—“the lady prefers the other chair”—when the headwaiter attempted to pull out the chair to seat her next to Booker. Cutter’s stated seating change sounded more like a growl. Booker just grinned, but Mel broke out in delighted laughter.
As she took her reassigned seat to Mrs. Potter’s right, she confronted her friend. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier that you would be here, too?”
“Mom and I had a bet going whether or not you would show up, and I didn’t trust her to tell me the truth. I also offered to fill in for you, just in case, so they sprung me for the night, and if I don’t do anything outrageous, I might get out for good.”
“Well, laughing like a loon at your best friend is not a good start, Mel.”
“Lexie, you look so beautiful and sophisticated. Doesn’t she, Booker?”
“Absolutely ravishing. A veritable feast for the eyes! Don’t you think so, Cutter?”
Cutter frowned at the culprit that had admitted to him earlier that he had transported Lexie from the ranch to the airport. “I wouldn’t have taken you for flowery speeches.”
“One must learn to adapt and blend in with their surroundings.”
Lexie didn’t miss Booker’s wink in her direction with his last comment, and neither did Cutter. His jaw had developed that ominous tick, and his previously warm gray eyes took on an icy hue. Pent up tension melted away when their waiter returned for the newcomers’ drink order, and to offer the menus. Lexie ordered a White Russian made with Coke. Cutter ordered scotch, neat.
“Have one for me too, Lexie. I’m not allowed—medications, release rules and all that, blah, blah, blah. That was our favorite drink whenever we went out to one off the country-western dance clubs when we were at OSU. Down in Columbus, they call it a Colorado Bulldog. If you order it that way in here, they either don’t know what it is, or they get their fancy drawers in a twist.” Mel directed the last bit of information to Cutter.
“I plan on having several more. If these two decide to have at it, I plan on being too drunk to care about the outcome or the humiliation.”
Cutter ignored Lexie’s jab at his small altercation with Potter’s bodyguard, and concentrated on the pretentious French plastered all over the ornate menu. She must have misinterpreted his scowl, and assumed that he could not decipher it. She leaned over and lowered her voice.
“Just order in English, and if you want beef, the prime rib is much better than the steaks.”
He wanted to haul off and kiss her enticing, pink-stained lips, but figured she would object to a public display of affection.
After dinner and another round of drinks, the mellow dining music changed and the dance floor began to fill up. Lexie was watching some of the interesting gyrations of the teenage group. Music and dance, like fashion, changed in a blink of an eye, and if you didn’t keep up you got left behind. Then the music changed to slower, more intimate selections, and the dance floor shed most of the previous dancers to be replaced with couples like the Potters. She was pleasantly surprised when Cutter asked her to dance. Halfway through the second piece of music she inadvertently insulted him.
“Cutter, you are a good dancer. Who knew?”
He held her away from him at arm’s length, so that he could look into her blue eyes. “You really have a low opinion of me don’t you, Lex?”
She maintained eye contact. “That’s not true, Cutter, I wouldn’t be here right now if that were the case.”
He must have been satisfied with her response; he urged her much closer, and his calloused hand moved lower on her back. Lexie decided she needed to cut off her drinking binge; three, and she was overheating big-time. Thankfully, the music changed again and the teens reclaimed the floor. Cutter escorted her back to the table, but she picked up the clutch purse that matched her shoes, excused herself, and headed for the ladies’ powder room with Mel hot on her heals.
After recycling her water intake, Lexie washed her hands and freshened her makeup. She looked at her friend’s reflection in the wall-sized mirror above the washbasins.
“How are you holding up, Mel?”
“Really good. The food sure beats the hell out of the hospital slop. So far, it has been very entertaining.”
“I noticed you only danced once, and I know you love to dance. Is it too much for you?”
“Have you ever danced with your father?”
“No. I never knew my father, or at least not that I can remember.”
“Sorry, I forgot. But dancing with my dad is not a real hoot.”
“So let’s shake things up a little bit. Ask Cutter to dance with you, and I will dance with Booker.”
“Shake things up? You mean start a war. Cutter will go after him.”
“No he won’t, because you’ll explain to him that Booker and I are just old friends.”
“Cutter isn’t going to want to dance with me.”
“Sure he is. He is a man, and you are a beautiful woman. If he is reluctant, promise you’ll tell him something about me that he doesn’t know. But first go flirt with the band, and see if they have some line dance stuff in their repertoire.”
Lexie returned to her seat, but Mel kept going around the edge of the dance floor. Mr. Potter was about to go after her when his wife restrained him. He directed his attention and his question to Lexie.
“Where is Melinda going?’
“To request some special tunes.”
He sat back down but kept a watchful eye on his daughter. Booker hadn’t taken his eyes off of Mel since they re-emerged from the ladies room. Cutter reluctantly agreed to dance with Mel, but he was less than happy about Lexie’s plan to dance with Booker. As planned, on the next set of slower dances she latched on to Booker and dragged him on to the dance floor, right behind Mel and Cutter. A couple of songs later, they were all back at the table while the dancers changed again. Absently, Lexie picked up her drink and downed some. She noted that Cutter had switched back to coffee.
The music stopped, and the bandleader announced
a twenty-minute break. During the break, desserts were ordered
Twenty minutes flew by while she tried to explain the planned trip, in response to his question about why she would want to go out to the middle of the lake. She hoped to God that Mel hadn’t told him it was to wait out his inevitable return home. That was the first thing she asked as she and Mel took to the dance floor, dragging Booker with them. Cutter declined to join them when the band announced a set requested by Melinda Potter.
“No. I did not tell him you were thinking of turning tail; just that you were planning a trip out into the lake for a few days.”
Cutter was enjoying the view. The two ex-roommates were having a good time; it was obvious that they had danced together quite a bit at the local establishments that catered to the college crowd. They hadn’t stopped talking since they took the dance floor. Booker on Melinda’s right would occasionally roll his eyes, or shake his head at parts of their conversation. It amazed him that the guy could be taking in their chatter, continually scan the room, and yet never miss a step.
Cutter managed one more dance before Lexie called it an evening. She used the excuse that she was worried Mel wouldn’t leave until they did. He went to reclaim her jacket while she thanked his new lawyer and his lovely wife. He held the jacket while she slid her arms in. “Thank you, Cutter.”
If he were Skip, he would be wagging his tail and wanting to do the trick again just to see the warmth in her eyes, and to have her smile at him again and thank him in that soft quiet way. She gave Melinda a hug, then turned to Booker, took hold of his hand, and leaned down to whisper in his ear.
“Always, Lexie.”
Cutter couldn’t contain his curiosity. “What did you say to him, Lex?”
Standing under the portico in front of the Country Club, waiting for the valet to retrieve the SUV, she responded through chattering teeth. “I asked him to look after Mel. God it feels like it wants to snow. It is a good thing Mom convinced me to take her fox jacket.”
