Just One Night

by Nancy Warren

  “Let me put it to you this way. If I let you do everything you want, how much would it cost?”

  She smiled. “That’s the sort of budget I like.”

  When he opened his mouth to protest—probably—she said, “Okay, okay. Here’s where I want to start. First, the reason I was a teeny bit late is that I had some paint leftover from another job. And it’s ideal for here. We’ll do the main downstairs rooms in a color called linen. Don’t worry, it’s very neutral. Masculine in fact. You’ll love it. I also snagged some mascarpone. That’s for woodwork and trim. If you feel like a handyman project, you can do those horrible kitchen cupboards yourself. Otherwise, we send them out.” She patted his shoulder. “So the paint’s free.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that nothing else is?”

  She tapped on the computer tablet in her hand. “I get a discount on furniture at several terrific places. Honestly, John, you need to get rid of this crap. Now.”

  He leaned against a beige wall and folded his arms. He had nice, muscular arms, she noticed. “That sounds like shopping. I hate shopping.”

  “You could give me your credit card and stay home.”

  “I can do shopping.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  He looked alarmed. “What? Now?”

  “There’s no better time. And trust me. When you have a home that suits you and feels comfortable, you’re going to enjoy being here.”

  “You’re the professional. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  YOU LEARNED A LOT ABOUT a person when you attempted to remake their home as Julia knew from experience. In John’s case he was easy to deal with, accepting all her suggestions and only quibbling when she tried to get him to move his big-screen TV out of the living room.

  “Absolutely not,” he said. “I watch games in here. I’m the one that does the living in the living room. What’s the point of sticking me in a spare bedroom? The fireplace is out here. It’s close to the kitchen. The big screen stays.”

  “Fine,” she said. It was his house, after all, and his argument made sense. Once they’d chosen the furniture—well, she’d chosen, and he’d pulled out his credit card—they were ready for a break. As they headed for a local Mexican restaurant that she loved, they walked past a trendy menswear shop. She glanced in the window, then at her companion who wore his usual collection of unfortunate clothing choices.

  Should she?

  She glanced at him walking beside her. He had a great body, but he always camouflaged it in a series of clothing disasters. He’d been good about letting her redecorate his home. Maybe?

  “John,” she said, her tone tentative.

  “I don’t like that look in your eye. I’m not buying three identical white vases to place on the mantel.”

  “No. It’s not about vases. Honestly. I was just wondering whether you’d like to check out this menswear shop.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why would I want to do that?”

  She shrugged. “No reason. I think those jeans would look really good on you.”

  He wasn’t fooled. “Are you trying to stage me, too?”

  She nibbled her lower lip. Truth or not? She decided, since they were friends and not lovers, that she could afford honesty.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but you could look so much better. You’ve got good bone structure, a nice body, but your clothes aren’t doing you any favors.”

  “I like to be comfortable.”

  “And that was fine when you were married. Now that you’re single, I think you should work on presenting your best package.”

  He snorted with laughter. Realizing what she’d said, she blushed. “I don’t mean that package... Oh, you know.”

  He stared in the window. “If I put those jeans on, they’ll definitely be all about my package. Those things are tight.”

  “At least try them on.”

  She coaxed him into the store and soon she had him in a fitting room with a selection of jeans, sweaters and shirts.

  He emerged wearing jeans that actually fit. She couldn’t believe the difference. He had a seriously nice body. And, she couldn’t help but notice there did seem to be a pretty nice package in there.

  She pushed him in front of the full-length mirror. “See how much better these look?”

  “They’d better. They cost almost as much as that sectional sofa you talked me into.”

  Still, he had a half smile on his face.

  In half an hour she’d talked him into a pair of jeans, black pants for going out, a casual shirt, a sweater and leather shoes that could be casual or dressed up. As a wardrobe went it was pretty basic. However, like her decorating project, you started with the emergency list. There were plenty more items she could add to bolster his wardrobe. At least he had a start.

  “And there’s a really good stylist near my office called Savoir Faire. Felix is the owner’s name. He does terrific men’s cuts. I could—”

  He held up a hand. “Enough. I can only take so much improvement in one day.”

  * * *

  “SO HE HELD UP HIS HAND and said—” and here Julia lowered her voice in a truly bad imitation of a man “‘—Enough. I can only take so much improvement in one day.’”

  Hailey laughed dutifully. Well, it was funny, but she was having trouble concentrating. She really needed to pull herself together. She and Julia were shopping. Hailey for something to wear on her date with Dennis, who’d checked out the hottest new eateries before inviting her. She liked that he’d taken the initiative, and not used the fact that she was the local and he an out-of-towner as an excuse to make her choose the restaurant.

  She’d heard nothing but rave reviews about Gastronome, raves on everything but the prices, which were steep.

  Julia was shopping mostly because she loved shopping.

  “John sounds like a nice guy,” Hailey said to Julia, who was currently flipping through a rack of red and black tops as though she didn’t already own enough black and red.

  “Oh, he is.” Julia glanced up. “And I think there’s a surprisingly nice-looking man hiding under all that crap.”

  “Not for you?”

  Her friend shrugged. “I’m regifting him to some deserving woman.” Then she found a short black cocktail dress. “Ooh, I bet Dennis would love you in this.”

  Hailey would not feel guilty. She would not feel bad that she had accepted a date with her latest client. Why shouldn’t she date?

  It wasn’t as if Rob had anything to offer her. Except the greatest sex of her life and an intimacy between them that was about so much more than sex.

  If only he were a stay-at-home man.

  Or she were a different kind of woman.

  If there was one thing Rob had done for her, it was get her thinking about schedules and life plans and how perhaps hers was too rigid. It wasn’t as though she could plan that in five years, when her business was more successful and she felt settled and ready, her ideal man would suddenly appear. Instead, she was beginning to realize that a little flexibility was a good thing, whether in life, in business or in love.

  She was bending her own strict rules and dating a client. So what?

  She found herself staring at a dress she didn’t even like. “I don’t know. I feel like I want to stay away from black.”

  “Right.” Julia went to put it back on the rack, then said, “Maybe I’ll try it on. I wonder if they have my size.”

  As Hailey flipped through dress after dress, she tried to imagine dating Dennis.

  He was intelligent; he was charming; he loved Bellamy House almost as much as she did. What was it to Rob who bought the place? He clearly didn’t want to keep his grandmother’s house.

  She tried not to contemplate what it would be like to date a guy who owned Bellamy House. One who wasn’t Rob. She couldn’t picture being with anyone else in that wonderful home. Somehow, in her mind, it would always be his.

  Well, as Gloria had reminded her, she needed to stop
wasting the present by worrying about the future. Everything would work out, she was certain of it.

  Dennis had been suddenly called out of town for a few days but had made her promise she’d call him if any other serious buyers for Bellamy House appeared. She’d agreed. And had also agreed to postpone their date. Since she and Julia had already decided to go shopping, however, they’d kept that date.

  She felt so torn. So messed up. And suddenly she realized that that was why women have each other. To talk to.

  “Hey, how about we ditch the shopping and grab lunch early? I need to talk.”

  “Of course,” her friend said, instantly putting the dress back.

  Maybe a few days was exactly what she needed to get some perspective. Sleeping with Rob a second time had been the mistake she’d known it would be.

  Well, she kind of thought her big mistake was sleeping with him in the first place. Her plan hadn’t worked, not at all. Think about him less once she got him into bed?

  She snorted at her own foolishness.

  Over lunch at a little bistro around the corner she told Julia all of it.

  Her friend opened her eyes wide. “You had sex on that single bed?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that was the best sex of your life? On a single bed?”

  She nodded.

  “With a man with a bullet hole in his leg?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Julia stared at her as she sipped her tea. “Can you imagine what he’d be like in a real bed? With all his limbs working properly?”

  They both sighed.

  “Well, our second time was in the four-poster.”

  The teacup hit its saucer with a snap. “Second time? I thought you said—”

  “I did. But we’d buried his grandmother’s ashes, and he was so sad and so sweet, and he looked at me and I was lost.”

  “I know. Burying people always makes me hot.”

  She laughed. They both did. This was why it was so great to have a friend. For all her sarcasm Julia got it.

  Their laughter died and she said, “In that big bed. I can’t explain it. The sex was so different. It was slower, the connection was so deep, it was like, like...”

  “Like you were in love with him?”

  Her friend’s warm brown eyes were full of sympathy.

  Hailey smacked her forehead into her palm. “I’ve gone and fallen in love with Rob. When I promised myself I wouldn’t. It was only going to be one night. Just one night...”

  “And now you’re in love with him.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about him? Is he in love with you?”

  She thought about how he’d looked at her after they’d planted the tulips, how tenderly he’d made love to her. “Yes. I think he is. That doesn’t change anything though. He’s still the man with the camera on the other side of the world. And I’m still the girl who wants a stay-at-home guy.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  As much as she didn’t want to, Hailey knew she had to move on. “I’m going to date Dennis. And maybe a few other men I find interesting. And Rob will heal and he’ll return to his globe-trotting existence. And I will try to forget him.”

  Her friend’s response was succinct. “That plan sucks.”

  “Can you think of a better one?”

  “Nope.”

  17

  JULIA WAS IN A HURRY to see John’s house completed, though not as much of a hurry as he was in, which made the project fun to work on.

  She called in the painters she always used. They were fast and reliable, and more important, could come immediately. She’d chosen a chocolate color for his bedroom. During the week she’d spent extra time picking linens and a few accessories that she knew he wouldn’t have been interested in.

  The furniture was being delivered on Saturday and she was as excited as if it were her own home she was decorating.

  When he called her Friday she assumed it was to let her know what time all the furniture was going to be delivered the next day.

  It wasn’t. “How do you feel about dinner?” he asked.

  “Enthusiastic. I’m a big believer in three squares a day.”

  “Very funny. How do you feel about dinner tonight? With me?”

  “Even more enthusiastic. I absolutely do not feel like cooking tonight.”

  “Seven?”

  “Perfect.”

  “Pick you up?”

  She hesitated. “Hmm. Tempting. I’m staging a place downtown. I don’t think I’m going to have time to go home first. Why don’t I meet you someplace?”

  “Indian sound good to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re a very easy woman to please.”

  She chuckled. “You’re hitting all the right notes.”

  He named a place she’d heard of but never tried, and they agreed to meet at seven.

  The staging job took longer than she’d anticipated. After she’d plumped the last cushion and fussed with the final flower arrangement she saw she was running a few minutes late. However, she absolutely could not be seen in public without retouching her makeup, which she did in the car once she’d parked near the restaurant.

  When she walked in, she couldn’t see John at first. There were two men sitting alone at tables, but a quick scan showed neither was him. Both were well-turned out, obviously waiting for their wives or dates. She glanced at her watch. Okay, she was a quarter of an hour late, but surely he wouldn’t...

  She started to nibble on her freshly lipsticked lip when one of the two men waved at her.

  “John?” She couldn’t have been more shocked. He stood and came toward her. “You look so different.” She’d seen potential there, but even she hadn’t seen how hot he could be. “What have you done?”

  He was wearing the jeans she’d talked him into and the black sweater, which reminded her how good his body was.

  But there was so much more he’d done to himself.

  They returned to his table and he said, “I took your advice. I went to Savoir Faire and had my hair styled.” He put air quotes around styled but he’d gone, hadn’t he?

  “I can’t believe the difference a good cut makes.”

  “The guy who did the cutting is the one who recommended the eyeglass place.”

  “That’s what else is different. Your glasses are from this millennium. They look good. You have beautiful eyes.”

  He seemed slightly embarrassed by her enthusiasm for his new look and quickly changed the subject.

  “How did your staging go today?”

  “Fine. The Realtor was really pleased. He’s going to put photos on his website and mention First Impressions by name. It’s always good to get a little free publicity.”

  While they talked, a woman walked by and Julia could see her checking John out. She wasn’t used to seeing him ogled and she was surprised at how much she didn’t like the experience.

  “Have you had any dates since your makeover?” she asked him.

  “A couple.” Again that unusual stab of irritation. Why shouldn’t he date?

  “And?”

  What was she doing, she wondered, offering her time and talents to turn John into a great-looking guy with a stylish home just so she could gift him to another woman?

  He sat back, sipped the ginger drink they’d both ordered, and said, “The first one was nice enough. She was early for our date.”

  Julia thought of her own perpetual tardiness and hated this woman on principle. “She probably has no life,” she commented.

  “Could be. But then, if being early means you have no life, I guess I don’t have one either.”

  “Oops.”

  “You know what’s weird?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve got used to having that time to myself while I wait for you. I find it kind of relaxing. Have a drink, check email on my cell, settle in and study the menu. I didn’t like this woman arriving at the same time as me. It threw me.”


  This was good. She was starting to feel better. “What about the other date?”

  He shook his head. “I suggested coffee, but she wanted to go for a drink instead. Talked nonstop about herself while getting plastered. I put her in a cab two hours after we met. Longest two hours of my life.”

  “I’m only a social drinker,” Julia said. Which was a stupid thing to say and completely irrelevant to the conversation. Especially as they’d already decided they were only going to be friends.

  “I’ve noticed.”

  She looked up. Their gazes caught and held for a moment. She felt as though she were seeing him for the first time. He was already familiar to her, and yet, tonight he seemed different. Sexier. Surer of himself, maybe.

  She glanced down again and the strange moment passed.

  As dinner progressed the evening seemed more like a date. She found herself feeling flirty and felt a similar vibe coming from her companion.

  A pleasant sense of uncertainty teased at her. They’d agreed they didn’t have chemistry. Was it possible they’d been wrong?

  Was it simply that they hadn’t given each other a chance? She studied him across the table and saw not a fashion model nor a Greek god, but a real flesh-and-blood man. A heck of a lot better put together than the one she’d first met, but he wasn’t a fantasy. She already knew that he was a stickler about time—though he seemed able to cope with her habit of being slightly late. She knew from his house that he was absurdly tidy—again, not something they had in common. She kept her place clean, but was always fighting clutter.

  He enjoyed trying new restaurants. As did she. They could talk about anything and everything from places they’d traveled to bands they both liked or didn’t to local politics.

  He’d become a good friend. Could he be more?

  Once outside the restaurant, they lingered a moment too long. She didn’t want to leave him. He didn’t seem in a hurry to leave her.

  “It’s a funny thing about dating sites,” he said. “You end up judging people so fast. It’s like you have these ideas about what you want and like and if the other person doesn’t hit a bunch of the things in the first few minutes of meeting, you move on.”

  “Sometimes too fast, maybe.”