Having Fun with Mr. Wrong

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Having Fun with Mr. Wrong Page 22

by Celia T. Franklin


  “Great, it’s not far from here.”

  ****

  How so many people crowded in on the tiny restaurant space of Ta-boo and on an even smaller dance floor amazed Carmala. A DJ spun records in a booth tucked in right above the dance floor. Michael ordered a couple of drinks from the three-people-deep bar, but before they finished their drinks, he grabbed her hand and led her to the dance floor. Carmala’s feet glided easily with his. He was a fantastic dancer. He twirled and dipped her. She felt giddy and happy. She kept reminding herself that this was supposed to be a professional relationship. Yet with every brush of their bodies, it seemed much more.

  After four fast dances, the DJ put on slow music. Michael pulled her to him. “You don’t mind dancing to a slow tune, do you?”

  “I, ah, well, I don’t see why not.” Before she finished her sentence, she was already in his arms. It felt good to be there. Her head fit perfectly at the top of his chest.

  She stole a peek at him. He stared deeply into her eyes, so much so she instinctively lowered her eyes. This was entirely inappropriate, and Carmala believed they’d just stepped over the line of impropriety. Yet he smelled good no doubt covered in expensive designer cologne.

  The first slow song turned into two, and they continued to dance. He pulled her closer still. Her hip brushed the distinct outline of a hard-on pressed against her.

  God, now she had to disengage.

  “I think we better call it a night, huh?”

  Something flashed in his eyes. Perhaps longing? Yet he composed himself and resumed a gentleman-like distance.

  “Absolutely. We’ll need to get an early start tomorrow.” He put his hand to her back and steered her off the dance floor and out of Ta-boo.

  They were silent on the way home, and when they pulled in at the hotel, he jumped out and opened the car door for her. “I’ll pick you up at nine in the morning. That’s not too early for you, is it?”

  “No, that’s perfect. See you then. Thanks for a lovely evening.”

  “The pleasure was all mine. Good night, Carmala.”

  She wondered if he would kiss her. She glanced at his mouth and bit her bottom lip. God, she wanted him to. What was wrong with her? His eyes met hers, but he didn’t lean in, didn’t step closer.

  She was glad he didn’t. She had to remind herself he was a client. Even if he was the sexiest man she’d ever met.

  Besides, there was Guido. How easily she seemed to forget him.

  ****

  The next morning, Carmala rolled out of bed at six a.m. and headed to the hotel gym. She worked up a feverish sweat on the treadmill and did some weights. She finished her workout, returned to her room, showered, and packed a bag for the day.

  Michael was already waiting outside the hotel when she stepped outside. He got out of the car and opened her car door. “All ready for the boat trip?”

  “Yep, got my sea legs on.”

  “Good for you.” He chuckled.

  They went to the marina where his cruiser called The Triple Crown waited.

  “She’s aptly named,” Carmala said.

  “Thank you. Yes, I think so. Climb on board.”

  The ship’s captain greeted them and assisted them aboard. Michael showed her to a room and told her she could use it to change and rest, if she wanted. She put her belongings on the bed. Carmala realized they’d never bothered to pick up her laptop as she followed Michael for the remainder of his tour. Oh, well. Nothing she could do about it now. She’d might as well enjoy the day off.

  She loved the feel of the ocean breeze against her face at the bow of the ship as they cast off. Michael pointed out the large estates they passed along the way. A waiter appeared with champagne and a tray of caviar, fruit, cheese and crackers.

  She shouldn’t feel guilty, but she did. They weren’t exactly alone, but every time she caught his mesmerizing eyes on her, she could swear he was searching for something.

  She decided to let go, a least a little. She drank the fine French champagne and quickly felt the buzz go to her head. To hell with work and the diet today.

  Carmala leaned on the railing at the bow of the boat and held back her head, reveling in the cool, salty breezes of the ocean spraying on her face. She let go of the railing and downed more of the bubbly. She’d only had a couple of glasses, but maybe it hit her head faster because she was on the water, she didn’t know how but she lost her balance. Michael put his arm around her waist and broke her fall. He then pulled her close and kissed her.

  The kiss was unexpected, and without reasoning or thinking, Carmala let herself go. Her lips opened easily into a perfect fit with his lips. Michael’s tongue slipped into her mouth. She met his silky smoothness in a seductive dance she didn’t want to end. His hands ran down her back and then on her ass. She didn’t mind, it all felt so good. Michael pulled her in tighter and then against the railing, his cock pushing against her.

  Oh, God, she couldn’t do this. She absolutely couldn’t. But she didn’t want it to end.

  Carmala reluctantly broke the kiss and gently pushed him off her. “Michael, this is uncomfortable. I mean, it feels good. But it’s not right.” Then, more resolutely, “I need to maintain the proper distance while we’re doing business together.” Oh no, now she sounded like she was promising the possibility of something later.

  Nodding, he withdrew, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry, Carmala. I feel comfortable with you. I didn’t mean to place you in a compromising position.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Let’s concentrate on business for the rest of the trip. I want to do a good job for you and this…”

  He put a finger across her lips. “Shh. We will say not another word on the matter. I shall be the perfect gentleman for the rest of the trip. Let’s pretend this never happened.” Then he winked at her, which appeared to reverse the meaning of his statement and only rekindled the passion that brewed inside of her.

  He sure made it hard to resist him.

  ****

  At the end of the day, Michael asked her to dinner, but she declined. She’d lost a full day, and she needed to get a lot of work done. Plus, she was afraid she couldn’t trust herself alone with him.

  Michael tried to get her to have dinner with him both Monday and Tuesday, but she passed. At three on Wednesday afternoon, he poked his head in. “I’m beginning to think you are avoiding me. We must have dinner before you leave.”

  “I’d love to, but I need to work late tonight. Tomorrow night?”

  “I’ll hold you to it.”

  Michael came to her office at five on Thursday and insisted that she call it a night, which was okay because, for all intents and purposes, Carmala had all the information she needed and her reports were complete.

  He took her to the very elegant Amici, and they shared one last dinner together. The mood was bittersweet as she accepted this was her last night in paradise. She and Michael shared their dinner over a couple of bottles of French cabernet. They danced to the standard tunes of Sinatra and Dean Martin. She felt that familiar heat between her legs as he held her close during the slow dances. At one point, she was positive he was going to kiss her again, and contemplated what she’d do if he did. He looked deeply into her eyes, but she quickly averted hers.

  Please don’t tempt me. Please.

  But, in a way, she wished he would.

  He didn’t, thank God.

  Although her mind, her very soul called for something intimate with this man, even in that moment with him in her arms, she thought of what he represented to her professionally. The only reason she flew to Palm Beach was to evaluate this man’s business. Not his physique. Not his amazingly classy, enticing, sexy…no, she needed to take control of her rambling thoughts. She would absolutely not screw this up.

  Regardless of what her body said.

  The Maddox Industries account had the promise to be the one of largest profit makers for Synergy Plus.

  Plus, she didn’t know why the h
ell she was entertaining the notion of getting involved with this man…there was Guido, after all. Yes, Guido. At home. Waiting loyally for her.

  “Michael, you are quite the dashing gentleman. I think I need to go, however. I have to pack and catch an early flight tomorrow. And I need to make some final notations before I leave to go home.”

  “How about an aperitif, Carmala? The night is still young.”

  She glanced at her watch. No, the night wasn’t young at all. She’d be lucky to so much as read a single page of her notes. “I’m afraid not.”

  “Very well.” He smiled, settled the bill, and drove her to the hotel.

  ****

  Carmala flew out the next day, satisfied with the data she’d collected and confident she was bringing an excellent client to her firm. Michael made it clear that the financing needed to happen quickly because construction was already underway and the school had to be complete for the upcoming season.

  Carmala admitted to the palpable sexual chemistry between them, and it confused her. Their potential tryst complicated the impact on her job performance—as well as her relationship with Guido. But surely she’d put it behind her once she was back in New York City, far from Palm Beach, wouldn’t she?

  Chapter Eighteen

  The day before Valentine’s Day and three weeks after Carmala returned from Palm Beach, she and Guido drove two hours outside the city to attend Bill and Jane’s wedding. They checked into the Dirk Hotel, a two-story refurbished retro-styled motel. On the ground floor, the door to each unit opened out to a parking space labeled for the room, just like the motels she’d stayed at as a kid, when her parents took her to the shore in Margate, New Jersey. A swimming pool and tiki hut sat at the center of the hotel.

  Carmala paced the hotel room while she waited for Guido to finish dressing. She worried they’d miss the first shuttle to the church. Why did Guido always take longer than she did to get ready? Crazy, usually women held men up, not the reverse.

  “Guido, are you almost ready?”

  She peeked into the bathroom. Damn! Still primping.

  “It’s past nine. We’re going to miss the wedding Mass.”

  “Almost done.” For what seemed to be the tenth time, he combed his hair back and applied additional gel to the signature piece he artfully dangled over his right eye.

  God! He was so vain.

  At the threshold, Carmala tapped her foot. She wore a red cocktail dress with long sleeves and a slit on the right thigh, topped with a short black fox fur. The winter chill hit her leg. She looked to the front of the inn to see if the shuttle had arrived.

  “Guid, if we miss the first bus, we’ll have to wait another half hour for the next one.” The shuttle pulled in. “It’s here now.”

  “Go ahead. I’m coming.”

  Carmala made her way to the shuttle to get a seat and hold a space for Guido. A crowd gathered outside the lobby door to board the shuttle. Finally, Guido stepped on the bus, the last one to get on.

  As it turned out, they made it to the church with plenty of time to spare. An eternity passed while they listened to the soft tones of the church organ and a soloist singing a number of familiar songs. It’d been so long since Carmala had been to church. She felt a pang of guilt and silently prayed her Act of Contrition.

  The music paused. Then the anticipated wedding march played as the bridesmaids filed down the aisle, trim in three-quarter-length pink satin and in perfect step with the music. Finally, Jane followed with her dad by her side. A picture to behold, Jane embodied grace and poise. Her white gown, with its form-fitting lace bodice, long lace sleeves, and five-foot train, shimmered in the soft light.

  Carmala wistfully thought she could have been married by now. Could it not be in the cards for her? She peered at Guido who intently focused on the procession. As sexy as he was, and mostly kind, she couldn’t see him as her husband. Ever. Having lived with him now for almost two months, she’d seen him in a different light. He stifled her and watched her every move.

  Guido caught her staring and winked. When he smiled, his sensual mouth tilted up. That wink, it still made her weak in the knees. And when he added that full-lipped broad smile, she didn’t stand a chance. Physically, Guido did things for her that no other man had. However, physical chemistry wasn’t everything. She constantly questioned whether Guido was The One. She wished he was, but since she questioned it so much, she had her doubts.

  And she had no idea what she’d do about it.

  But today belonged to Bill and Jane. Lord knew, poor Bill had waited long enough.

  It still amazed her that all the years of pining for his lost high school sweetheart, Bill had finally won over the girl. It wasn’t easy for him. Even after the proposal, Jane dangled the job prospect she had in Philly. And she’d bet Bill would have given up his established clientele in Manhattan for her to work there. In the end, she agreed to stay on in New York and got an even better job in the downtown DA’s office.

  Persistence sure paid off. Carmala thought about when she and Bill had dated. How far and close their friendship had grown during college and in the years that followed. Granted she didn’t want him as a romantic partner, but she knew he’d be a great husband for someone. And she was truly happy for him. In the end, everything had a way of working to one’s true desires, that is, if one knew what those desires were.

  That was where Carmala had failed. She didn’t know what she wanted, at least romantically.

  The person standing in front of her shuffled, allowing her to catch sight of a man a few pews ahead on their side of the church. She couldn’t mistake the broad shoulders or confident stance, even from behind. It was Michael Maddox, in a tux no less. As if he felt her eyes on him, he turned. He nodded her way, and across the distance his eyes danced with mirth as he gave her one of his perfectly dimpled smiles.

  Great. Just what she needed at Bill’s wedding. Another jealous episode with Guido. She couldn’t avoid Michael. She’d need to make conversation with him, and Guido would insinuate that something was going on between them. Guido would inevitably sense the tension between her and Michael. She could feel it in her bones. Disaster would hit right in the middle of the reception. There’d be no way to avoid it. But she needed to focus positively and not invent negative outcomes.

  Carmala smiled at Michael, then looked down. Heat rose to her cheeks.

  Why did he unnerve her? Yes, he was sexy as hell and intelligent to boot.

  Could it be as simple as that? Or did he represent everything she wanted in a man?

  She couldn’t help her thoughts. Or control her eyes. She glanced Michael’s way again. He caught her glance and smiled. She quickly turned away, fearful Guido would notice. She peered at him, but thankfully, he just winked and squeezed her hand.

  The ceremony ended, and the priest announced the couple. “May I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Bill Cicieri.”

  The congregation clapped as the bride and groom beamed from the altar. Outside the church the guests cheered and threw birdseed at the newlyweds. Jane had the minutest detail planned, even down to the biodegradable wedding throwaways, of course wrapped carefully in small packets made of pink tulle with a matching ribbon. Perfect, just like her.

  The noise of the crowd increased as people mingled outside the church. Bill raised his voice. “Excuse me, everyone. Please, a moment of your time.”

  The crowd quieted. “We’ll be taking pictures for a bit. All those who are not in the wedding party, please feel free to meet at the hotel, where you’ll find refreshments available at the Tiki Hut. The festivities will begin at the Woodbine at four. We’ll see you then.” He waved and put his arm around Jane.

  Carmala and Guido rode the shuttle to the hotel. The afternoon turned out to be uneventful. Carmala saw several people she knew and enjoyed drinks and casual conversation. Michael didn’t show. Thank goodness, Guido was in good spirits and on his best behavior.

  They slipped back to their room to change. Carmala chan
ged into her black Gucci cocktail dress for the reception. Guido donned an Armani suit and an open-collar shirt. An absolutely splendid specimen of maleness. Jon’s wardrobe advice to Guido had certainly paid off. He’d had always been handsome, but with the new clothes, he’d become entirely irresistible—the dashing gentleman. Her seesaw of emotions and doubts about Guido tortured her mind.

  She couldn’t deny that, since her return from Palm Beach, she encountered a distinct shift in her perception of their relationship. Her attitude with respect to Guido changed. For maybe the first time, she couldn’t be certain, she realized Guido wasn’t completely right for her. The image she held of him was no longer perfect. Strangely enough there appeared to be a shift in his behavior as well. Like he wanted to please her even more. Go out of his way to make her happy. She appreciated it, but at the same time, it caused her to examine the flaws in their relationship more closely.

  They arrived at the reception a bit ahead of the other guests. She smelled the rustic alpine wooded décor, which reminded her of a ski lodge. Adjusting her eyes to the dark hues that sprinkled the interior, she examined the paintings of fox hunts and countryside scenes peppering the seventies-styled wallpapered walls. The inn, coupled with the retro-styled hotel, seemed fitting, given that the bride and groom were seventies children.

  “Oh, Guid, look there’s a champagne fountain. I haven’t seen one of those in years.”

  Carmala and Guido headed for the champagne. The large silver-tiered fountain spouted the bubbly with orange and red lights. They filled their glasses.

  “This is exciting.” Carmala sipped her champagne and enjoyed the bite of the bubbles as they slid down her throat.

  “I love to come to fancy affairs with you, babe. You look beautiful tonight, by the way.”

  “Thanks, Guid. You’re pretty gorgeous yourself.” A waiter passed them with a plate of canapés. Carmala greedily grabbed a few selections and put them on a small plate the waiter gave her. “Oh, my God, Guid. Mmm. These taste delectable.” She popped two appetizers in her mouth and chewed enthusiastically. “Pumpernickel squares with salmon rounds, sour cream, and black caviar. Here, honey, try it.” She fed him one. “And bacon-wrapped scallops, melon, and prosciutto. You love those.” It could have been the mood the wedding put her in, but her doubts about Guido vanished, and for the moment she decided to be romantic and loving with Guido. Why not? On so many levels, she still loved him, in spite of all her nagging vacillation.

 

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