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BET ME
By
Jennifer Crusie
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
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Also by Jennifer Crusie
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My Thanks To
Meg Ruley
for selling this book against my better judgment and for being right again,
Jen Enderlin
for buying this book against my better judgment and for being right again,
St. Martin's Press
especially John Sargent, Sally Richardson, Matthew Shear, Kim Cardascia, John Karle, and John
Murphy, for being supportive beyond the call of publishing (and a big kiss to Sally for matchmaking the
movie option),
Mollie Smith
for improving my Web site, organizing my business records, critiquing my book, and illuminating my life,
Val Taylor
for working with me again even though I promised her I'd never rewrite this one,
The Ladies of XRom
especially Jo Beverley for coming up with the pumpkin couch,
The Cherries
for critiquing the first scene, researching recipes, putting up with my moaning, and being Cherries, and
The Nantucket Beach Patrol, Police Department,
Fire Department, and Cottage Hospital Emergency Room Staff,
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"And we both know why," David went on.
He probably didn't even know he was mad; he probably thought he was being calm and adult.At least I
know I'm furious , Min thought. She let her anger setde around her, and it made her warm all over,
which was more than David had ever done.
Across the room, somebody at the big roulette wheel-shaped bar rang a bell. Another point against
David: He was dumping her in a theme bar. The Long Shot. The name alone should have tipped her off.
"I'm sorry, Min," David said, clearly not.
Min crossed her arms over her gray-checked suit jacket so she couldn't smack him. "This is because I
won't go home with you tonight? It's Wednesday. I have to work tomorrow. You have to work
tomorrow. I paid for my own drink."
"It's not that." David looked noble and wounded as only the tall, dark, and self-righteous could. "You're
not making any effort to make our relationship work, which means ..."
Which means we 've been dating for two months and I still won't sleep with you. Min tuned him out
and looked around at the babbling crowd.If I had an untraceable poison, I could drop it in his drink
now and not one of these suits would notice .
"... and I do think, if we have any future, that you should contribute, too," David said.
Oh, I don 't,Min thought, which meant that David had a point. Still, lack of sex was no excuse for
dumping her three weeks before she had to wear a maid-of-honor dress that made her look like a fat,
demented shepherdess. "Of course we have a future, David," she said, trying to put her anger on ice.
"We haveplans. Diana is getting married in three weeks. You're invited to the wedding. To the rehearsal
dinner. To thebachelor party. You're going to miss thestripper, David."
"Is that all you think of me?" David's voice went up. "I'm just a date to your sister's wedding?"
"Of course not," Min said. "Just as I'm sure I'm more to you than somebody to sleep with."
David opened his mouth and closed it again. "Well, of course. I don't want you to think this is a
reflection on you. You're intelligent, you're successful, you're mature. . . ."
Min listened, knowing thatYou're beautiful, you're thin were not coming. If only he'd have a heart
attack. Only four percent of heart attacks in men happened before forty, but it could happen. And if he
died, not even her mother could expect her to bring him to the wedding.
"... and you'd make a wonderful mother," David finished up.
"Thank you," Min said. "That's so not romantic."
"I thought we were going places, Min," David said.
"Yeah," Min said, looking around the gaudy bar. "Like here."
David sighed and took her hand. "I wish you the best, Min. Let's keep in touch."
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Min took her hand back. "You're not feeling any pain in your left arm, are you?"
"No," David said, frowning at her.
"Pity," Min said, and went back to her friends, who were watching them from the far end of the room.
"He was looking even more uptight than usual," Liza said, looking even taller and hotter than usual as she
leaned on the jukebox, her hair flaming under the lights.
David wouldn't have treated Liza so callously. He'd have been afraid to; she'd have dismembered him.
Gotta be more like Liza , Min thought and started to flip through the song cards on the box.
"Are you upset with him?" Bonnie said from Min's other side, her blond head tilted up in concern. David
wouldn't have left Bonnie, either. Nobody was mean to sweet, little Bonnie.
"Yes. He dumped me." Min stopped flipping. Wonder of wonders, the box had Elvis. Immediately, the
bar seemed a better place. She fed in coins and then punched the keys for "Hound Dog." Too bad Elvis
had never recorded one called "Dickhead."
"I knew I didn't like him," Bonnie said.
Min went over to the roulette bar and smiled tightly at the slender bartender dressed like a croupier. She
had beautiful long, soft, kinky brown hair, and Min thought,That's another reason I couldn't have slept
with David . Her hair always frizzed when she let it down, and he was the type who would have noticed.
"Rum and Coke, please," she told the bartender.
Maybe that was why Liza and Bonnie never had man trouble: great hair. She looked at Liza,
racehorse-thin in purple zippered leather, shaking her head at David with naked contempt. Okay, it
wasn't just the hair. If she jammed herself into Liza's dress, she'd look like Barney's slut cousin."Diet
Coke," she told the bartender.
"He wasn't the one," Bonnie said from below Min's shoulder, her hands on her tiny hips.
"Diet rum, too," Min told the bartender, who smiled at her and went to get her drink.
Liza frowned. "Why were you dating him anyway?"
"Because I thought he might be the one," Min said, exasperated. "He was intelligent and successful and
very nice at first. He seemed like a sensible choice. And then all of sudden he went snotty on me."
Bonnie patted Min's arm. "It's a good thing he broke up with you because now you're free for when the
right man finds you. Your prince is on his way."
"Right," Min said. "I'm sure he was on his way but a truck hit him."
"That's not how it works." Bonnie leaned on the bar, looking like an R-rated pixie. "If it's meant to be,
he'll make it. No matter how many things go wrong, he'll come to you and you'll be together forever."
"What is this?" Liza said, looking at her in disbelief. "Barbie's Field of Dreams?"
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drink to ward off comments.
Liza wasn't listening. "We'll have to find a guy for you." She began to scan the bar, which was only fair
since most of the bar had been scanning her. "Not him. Not him. Not him. Nope. Nope. Nope. All these
guys would try to sell you mutual funds." Then she straightened. "Hello. We have a winner."
Bonnie followed her eyes. "Who? Where?"
"The dark-haired guy in the navy blue suit. In the middle on the landing up by the door."
"Middle?" Min squinted at the raised landing at the entry to the bar. It was wide enough for a row of
faux poker tables, and four men were at one talking to a brunette in red. One of the four was David, now
surveying his domain over the dice-studded wrought-iron rail. The landing was only about five feet higher
than the rest of the room, but David contrived to make it look like a balcony. It was probably requiring
all his self-control to keep from doing the Queen Elizabeth Wave. "That's David," Min said, turning away.
"And some brunette. Good Lord, he's dating somebody else already."Get out now, she told the brunette
silently.
"Forget the brunette," Liza said. "Look at the guy in the middle. Wait a minute, he'll turn back this way
again. He doesn't seem to be finding David that interesting."
Min squinted back at the entry again. The navy suit was taller than David, and his hair was darker and
thicker, but otherwise, from behind, he was pretty much David II. "I did that movie," Min said, and then
he turned.
Dark eyes, strong cheekbones, classic chin, broad shoulders, chiseled everything, and all of it at ease as
he stared out over the bar, ignoring David, who suddenly looked a little inbred.
Min sucked in her breath as every cell she had came alive and whispered,This one .
Then she turned away before anybody caught her slack-jawed with admiration. He was not the one, that
was her DNA talking, looking for a high-class sperm donor. Every woman in the room with a working
ovary probably looked at him and thought,This one. Well, biology was not destiny. The amount of
damage somebody that beautiful could do to a woman like her was too much to contemplate. She took
another drink to cushion the thought, and said, "He's pretty."
"No," Liza said. "That's the point. He'snot pretty. David is pretty. That guy looks like an adult."
"Okay, he's full of testosterone," Min said.
"No, that's the guy on his right," Liza said. "The one with the head like a bullet. I bet that one talks sports
and slaps people on the back. The navy suit looks civilized with edge. Tell her, Bonnie."
"I don't think so," Bonnie said, her pixie face looking grim. "I know him."
"In the biblical sense?" Liza said.
"No. He dated my cousin Wendy. But—"
"Then he's fair game," Liza said.
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"I got ten bucks says she'll leave with me. I'll use my chaos theory line."
"No bet," Cal said. "Although that is a terrible line, so that would shorten the odds." He squinted across
the room to the roulette wheel bar. The redhead was flashy, which meant she was Tony's type. There
was a little blonde there, too, the perky kind, their friend Roger's dream date. Behind the bar, Shanna
saw him watching and waved, but she didn't smile, and Cal wondered what was up as he nodded to her.
Tony put his arm around Cal. "Help me out here, she's in a group. You go over and pick up her chubby
friend in the gray-checked suit, and Roger can hit on the short blonde. I'd give you the short blonde, but
you know Roger and midget women."
Roger jerked to attention at Cal's elbow. "What? What short blonde?" He peered across the room at
the bar. "Oh.Oh ."
"Suit?" Cal looked back at the bar.
"The one in gray." Tony nodded toward the bar. "Between the redhead and the mini-blonde. She's hard
to see because the redhead sort of dazzles you. I bet you—"
"Oh." Cal squinted to see the medium-height woman between the redhead and the blonde. She was
dressed in a dull, boxy, gray-checked suit, and her round face scowled under brown hair yanked back
into a knot on the top of her head. "Nope," he said and took another drink.
Tony smacked him on the back and made him choke. "Come on, live a little. Don't tell me you're still
pining for Cynthie."
"I never pined for Cynthie." Cal glanced around the crowd. "Keep an eye out for her, will you? She's in
that red thing she wears when she's trying to get something."
"She can get it from me," Tony said.
"Great." Cal's voice was fervent. "I'll even go pick up that suit if you'll marry Cyn."
Tony choked on his drink. "Marry?"
"Yes," Cal said. "She wants to get married. Surprised the hell out of me." He thought for a moment of
Cynthie, a sweetheart with a spine of steel. "I don't know where she got the idea we were that close."
"There she is." Roger was looking over Cal's shoulder. "She's coming up the stairs now."
Cal got up and tried to move past Tony to the door. "Out of my way."
Tony stayed in his chair. "You can't leave, I want the redhead."
"So go get her," Cal said, trying to get around him.
"Cynthie's got David with her," Roger said, and there was great sympathy in his voice.
"Cal!" David's voice grated over Cal's shoulder. "Just who we were looking for." He sounded mad as
hell, but when Cal turned, David was smiling.
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Trouble, Cal thought and smiled back with equal insincerity. "David. Cynthie. Great to see you."
"Hello, Cal." Cynthie smiled up at him, her heart-shaped face lethally lovely. "How've you been?"
"Great. Couldn't be better. You, too, looking great." Cal looked past her to David, and thought,Take
her, please . "You're a lucky man, David."
"I am?"
"Dating Cynthie," Cal said, putting all the encouragement he could into his voice.
Cynthie took David's arm. "We just ran into each other." She turned her shoulder to Cal and glowed up
at David. "But it is nice seeing him again." Her eyes slid back to Cal's face, and he smiled past her ear
again, radiating no jealousy at all as hard as he could.
David looked down into her beautiful face and blinked, and Cal felt a stab of sympathy for him. Cynthie
was enchanting up close. And from far away. From everywhere, really, which was how he'd ended up
saying yes to her all the time. Cal glanced at her impeccably tight little body in her impeccably tight little
red dress and then took a step back as he jerked his eyes away, reminding himself of how peaceful life
was without her. Distance, that was the key. Maybe a cross and some garlic, too.
"Of course," David was saying. "Maybe we can do dinner later." He glanced at Cal, looking triumphant.
"Well, don't let us keep you." Cal took another step back and bumped into the railing.
Cynthie let go of David's arm, her glow diminished. "I'll just freshen up before we go." Tony and David
watched as her perfect rear end swung away from them, while Roger ignored her to peer across the
room at the pixie blonde, and Cal took another healthy swallow of his drink and wished he were
somewhere else. Anywhere else. Dinner, for example. Maybe he'd stop by Emilio's and eat in the
kitchen. There were no women in Emilio's kitchen.
"So, David," Tony was saying. "How'd our seminar work out for you?"
"It was terrific," David said. "I didn't think anybody could teach some of those morons that new
program, but everybody at the firm is now up to speed. We've even .. ."
He went on and Cal nodded, thinking that one of the many reasons he didn't like David was his tendency
to refer to his employees as morons. Still, David paid his bills on time and gave credit where it was due;
there were much worse clients. And if he took over Cynthie, Cal was prepared to feel downright warm
toward him.
David wound down on whatever it was he'd been saying and looked toward the stairs. "About Cynthie.
I thought that you and she—"
"No." Cal shook his head with enthusiasm. "She left me a couple of months ago."
"Isn't it usually the other way around?"
David arched an eyebrow and looked ridiculous. And still women went out with him. Life was a
mystery. So were women.
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Cal put his empty glass down on the rail and thought fast. The suit did not look happy, so the odds
weren't impossible that she'd go for a chance to get out of the bar if he offered dinner. "Look, David, sex
is not in the cards. I'm cheap, but I'm not slimy. You want to bet ten bucks on a pickup, fine, but that's it.
Nothing with a future."
David shook his head. "Oh, no, I'll bet on the pickup, too, ten bucks if you leave with her. But the ten
thousand is still on. If youlose . . ." He smiled at Cal, drawing out the 'lose,' "you do a seminar for me for
free."
"David, I can't make that bet," Cal said, trying another tack. "I have two partners who—"
"I'm good for it," Tony said. "Cal never misses."
Cal glared at him. "Well,Roger isn't good for it."
"Hey, Roger, you in?" Tony said, and Roger said, "Sure," without looking away from the blonde at the
bar.
"Roger," Cal said.
"She's the prettiest little thing I've ever seen," Roger said.
"Roger, you just bet that I could get a woman into bed," Cal said with great patience. "Now tell David
you don't want to bet a ten-thousand-dollar refresher seminar on sex."
"What?" Roger said, finally looking away from the blonde.
"I said—" Cal began.
"Why would you bet on something like that?" Roger said.
"That's not the question," Tony said. "The question is, can he do it?"
"Sure," Roger said. "But—"
"Then we have a bet," David said.
"No, we do not," Cal said.
"You don't think you can do it," David said. "You're losing it."
"This is not about me," Cal said, and then Cynthie slid back into the group and put her hand on his arm.
She leaned into him, and he felt his blood heat right on cue.
"She's over there waiting for you," David said, an edge in his voice.
"She?" Cynthie's glow dimmed. "Are you seeing somebody?"
Oh, hell, Cal thought.
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"Move," Bonnie said, and pushed Liza down the bar.
Min turned away when the bartender brought her drink, so when The Beast spoke from beside her, she
jerked her head up and caught the full force of him unprepared: hot dark eyes, perfect cheekbones, and a
mouth a woman would betray her moral fiber to bite into. Her heart kicked up into her throat, and she
swallowed hard to get it back where it belonged.
"I have a problem," he said, and his voice was low and smooth, warm enough to be charming, rich
enough to clog arteries.
Dark chocolate, Min thought and looked at him blankly, keeping her breathing slow. "Problem?"
"Well, usually my line is 'Can I buy you a drink?' but you have one." He smiled at her, radiating
testosterone through his expensive suit.
"Well, that is a problem." She started to turn away.
"So what I thought," he said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned closer to her and made her
heart pound, "was that we could go somewhere else, and I could buy you dinner."
The closer he got, the better he looked. He was the used car salesman of seducers, Min decided, trying
to get her distance back. You could never get a good deal from a used car salesman; they sold cars all
the time and you only bought a couple in a lifetime so they always won. Statistically speaking, you were
toast before you walked on the lot. She could only imagine how many women this guy had mutilated in
his lifetime. The mind boggled.
His smile had disappeared while he waited for her answer, and he looked vulnerable now, taking a
chance on asking her out. He faked vulnerable very well.Remember , she told herself,the son of a bitch
is doing this for ten bucks . Actually, he was trying to doher for ten bucks.
Cheapskate. Suddenly, breathing normally was not a problem.
"Dinner?" she said.
"Yes." He bent still closer. "Somewhere quiet where we can talk. You look like someone with interesting
things to say. And I'm somebody who'd like to hear them."
Min smiled at him. "That's a terrible line. Does it usually work for you?"
He froze for a second, and then he segued from sincere to boyish again. "Well, it has up till now."
"It must be your voice," Min said. "You deliver it beautifully."
"Thank you." He straightened. "Let's try this again." He held out his hand. "I'm Calvin Morrisey, but my
friends call me Cal."
"Min Dobbs." She shook his hand and dropped it before it could feel warm in her grasp. "And my
friends would call me foolhardy if I left this bar with a stranger."
"Wait." He got out his wallet and pulled out a twenty. "This is cab fare. If I get fresh, you get a cab."
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Liza would take the twenty and then dump him. There was a plan, but Liza didn't need a wedding date.
What else would Liza do? Min plucked the twenty from his fingers. "If you get fresh, I'll break your
nose." She folded the twenty, unbuttoned her top two blouse buttons, and tucked the bill into the V of
her sensible cotton bra so that only a thin green edge showed. That was one good thing about packing
extra pounds, you got cleavage to burn.
She looked up and caught his eyes looking down, and she waited for him to make some comment, but
he smiled again. "Fair enough," he said, "let's go eat," and she reminded herself to ignore what a beautiful
mouth he had since it was full of forked tongue.
"First, promise me no more lame lines," she said, and watched his jaw clench.
"Anything you want," he said.
Min shook her head. "Another line. I suppose you can't help it. And free food is always good." She
picked up her purse from the bar. "Let's go-"
She walked away before he could say anything else, and he followed her, past a dumbfounded Liza and
a delighted Bonnie, across the floor and up onto the landing by the door, and the last thing she saw as
they left was David looking outraged.
The evening was turning outmuch better than she'd expected.
Chapter Two
Lizascowled at the empty doorway. This was not good. When Calvin Morrisey came back in and
spoke to David for a moment, it didn't get better.
"Do you suppose it was the booze?" Bonnie asked.
Liza thought fast. "I don't know what it was, but I don't like it. Why was he hitting on her?"
Bonnie frowned. "It's not like you to be jealous."
"I'm not jealous." Liza transferred her scowl to Bonnie. "Think about it. Min sends out no signals, he's
never talked to her so he can't know how great she is, and she's dressed like a nun with an MBA. But he
crosses a crowded bar to pick her up—"
"It's possible," Bonnie said.
"—right after he's talked to David," Liza finished, nodding to the landing where a red-faced David was
now moving in on the brunette.
"Oh." Bonnie looked stricken. "Oh, no."
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David considered telling her that Cal had picked up Min because of the bet and then thought,No. The
bet had not been his finest hour. In fact, for the life of him, he couldn't think why he'd done it, it was as if
some malignant force had whispered in his ear. No, it was Cal's fault, that's what it was, and it was a
disaster because if Min ever found out he'd made that bet...
"Do you know her?" Cynthie said.
"She's my ex-girlfriend."
"Oh." Cynthie put her drink down. "Well, I hope Cal's sorry he picked her up. I hope he realizes what
he's lost once he gets her back to his place."
"They're not going back to his place," David said. "She won't." Cynthie waited, and he added, "She
doesn't like sex."
Cynthie smiled.
David shrugged. "At least, she wouldn't try it in the two months we were together. So I ended it."
Cynthie shook her head, still smiling. "You didn't give the relationship enough time. What does she do for
a living?"
David stiffened at the criticism. "She's an actuary. And it strikes me thattwo months —"
"David," Cynthie said, "if you wanted sex in the first five minutes, you should have dated a stripper. If
she's an actuary, she's a cautious person, her career is figuring out how to minimize risk, and in your case,
she was right."
David began to dislike Cynthie. "How was she right?"
You left her over sex." Cynthie leaned forward, and David pretended not to watch her breasts under the
jersey. "David, this ismy specialty. If you loved her, you wouldn't have given her an ultimatum over sex."
"What is it you do?" David said, coldly.
"I'm a psychologist." Cynthie picked up her drink, and David remembered some of the gossip he'd
heard.
"You're the dating guru," he said, warming to her again. She was practically a celebrity. "You've been on
TV."
"I do guest spots," Cynthie said. "My research on relationships has been very popular. And all of it tells
me you do not give an ultimatum over sex."
"You gave Cal one."
"Not over sex," Cynthie said. "I'd never deny him sex. And it wasn't an ultimatum, it was strategy. We'd
been together nine months, we were past infatuation and into attachment, and I knew that all he needed
was a physiological cue to make him aware of his true feelings."
"That makes no sense at all," David said.
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Cynthie smiled at him without warmth. "My studies have shown that the process of falling into mature
love happens in four steps." She held up one finger. "When you meet a woman, you subconsciously look
for cues that she's the kind of person you should be with. That's assumption." She held up a second
finger. "If she passes the assumption test, you begin to get to know her to find out if she's appropriate for
you. If she is, you're attracted." She held up a third finger. "If, as you get to know her, the attraction is
reinforced with joy or pain or both, you'll fall into infatuation. And .. ." She held up her fourth finger. "If
you manage to make a connection and attach to each other during infatuation, you'll move into mature,
unconditional love."
"That seems a little clinical," David said, faking interest. After all, she was almost a celebrity.
"That doesn't mean it's wrong," Cynthie said. "Take assumption. Your subconscious mind scans women
and picks out those that meet your assumptions about the kind of woman you're attracted to."
"I like to think I'm not close-minded," David said.
"Which is why I'm surprised Cal picked up your Min." Cynthie sipped her drink. "One of his
assumptions is that his women will be beautiful."
"I always thought Cal was shallow," David said, and thought,He picked her up for the bet, the bastard
.
"He's not shallow at all," Cynthie said. "Since they've passed assumption, they'll now subconsciously
gauge attraction. For example, if they fell into step when they left the bar, that could be a strong
psychological hint that they're compatible." She frowned. "I wish we could watch them at dinner."
"And see what?" David said, picking up his drink again. "Them eating in unison?"
"No," Cynthie said. "If they mirror each other in action, both crossing their legs the same way, for
example. If she accepts his touch with pleasure. If they exchange a copulatory gaze."
David choked on his drink.
"It's a look that's held a few seconds too long," Cynthie said. "It's a clear sexual signal. All species do it."
David nodded and reminded himself not to stare in the future.
"If their conversation picks up a rhythm with no long silences, that will be attractive. If they develop
enough of a relationship to use nicknames."
"Min hates nicknames," David said, remembering a disastrous "honey bun" incident.
"If they have the same tastes in music or film. If they establish shared secrets or private jokes. If they
value the same things. Is Min self-employed?"
"No," David said. "She works for Alliance Insurance. Her father is a vice president there."
Cynthie's smile curved across her beautiful face. "Excellent. Cal likes to gamble, so he admires people
who take risks. That's why he refused to go into his father's business and started his own company
instead. He's not going to be impressed by somebody who's riding her father's coattails. He'll think she's
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a moment, Min watched the trees and thought, /know just how you feel. Well, she didn't know the
skinny part. But the trapped? Yep.
Because she was stuck, no doubt about it. Stuck dateless in a stupid bridesmaid's dress for her sister's
wedding to a dweeb with her mother sighing at her. Because the truth was, she wasn't going to be able to
play somebody like Cal Morrisey for three weeks. It had been a dumb, dumb idea, fueled by rum and
rage. For a moment, she wished that she was back in her attic apartment, curled up on her grandmother's
old pumpkin-colored sofa, listening to Elvis'sMoody Blue album. Maybe she wasn't the type to date,
maybe she should just give in to her well-upholstered genes and become a kindly maiden aunt to Diana's
inevitable offspring. It wasn't as if she wanted kids of her own. And what other purpose did men serve?
Well, sex, but look how they acted about that. Honestly—
A cell phone rang behind her, and she started. When she turned, it was Calvin Morrisey, back again. He
reached in his jacket and took out his phone, the kind that had more bells and whistles than any human
being needed, and it confirmed her decision: There was no way in hell she was going to spend three
weeks with a soulless yuppie just to get a date to Diana's wedding. She'd go Dutch on dinner and then
say goodbye forever;that was a plan.
She crossed her arms and waited for him to impress her with a business call, but he turned the phone off.
Min raised her eyebrows. "What if it's important?"
"The only person I want to talk to is here," he said, smiling thatGQ smile at her.
"Oh, for crying out loud," Min said. "Can you turn that off, too?"
"Excuse me?" he said, his smile fading.
"The constant line." Min began to walk again. "You've got me for dinner. You can relax now."
"I'm always relaxed." He caught up to her in one stride. "Where are we going?"
Min stopped, and he walked a step past her before he caught himself.
"The new restaurant that everybody's talking about is this way. Serafino's. Somebody I used to know
says the chef is making a statement with his cuisine." She thought of David and looked at Cal. Two of a
kind. "I assumed that'd be your style. Did you have someplace else in mind?"
"Yes." He put one finger on her shoulder and gave her a gentle push to turn her around, and Min
shrugged off his touch as she turned. "My restaurant's that way," he said. "Never go any place the chef is
trying to talk with food. Unless you want Ser—"
"Nope." Min turned around and began to walk again. "I want to check out your taste in restaurants. I'm
assuming it'll be like your taste in cell phones: verytrendy ."
"I like gadgets," he said, catching up again. "I don't think it's a comment on the real me."
"I've always wanted to do a study on cell phones and personality," Min lied as they passed the Gryphon
theater. "All those fancy styles and different covers, and then some people refuse to carry them at all.
You'd think—"
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"Just so I'm somewhere on the list," Tony said. "Shanna, this is Liza. We need refills all around here."
"You know him?" Liza said to Shanna.
"He hangs out with my next-door neighbor," Shanna said. "I get him by default because of Cal."
"Cal?" Liza said, and thought,Damn, I could have just asked the bartender about him without
picking up this yahoo. Well, later for her .
"You don't want to know about Cal," Tony was saying. "He's no good. Women should stay far away
from him."
Shanna rolled her eyes and moved away.
"That's interesting," Liza said, smiling at him. "Tell me all about Cal and why he's no good."
"I lied. He's great," Tony said. "We met in summer school—"
"You went to high school together?" Liza said, taken aback.
"We went to third grade together," Tony said. "Although why you think this is interesting—"
"I want to know everything about you, sugar," Liza said. "I find you fascinating."
Tony nodded, accepting this as fact. "I was born—"
"You andyour friends" Liza said. "So you and Roger andCal —"
Tony began to talk, while behind her, she heard Bonnie say, "You know my mama would like you," and
Roger answer, "I'd love to meet your mother."
Liza jerked her head toward Roger. "Does he say that to every woman?"
"What?" Tony said, startled out of his story about being a football star in the third grade.
"Never mind," Liza said. "Let's fast forward to puberty. You and Roger andCal ..."
Cal watched the shock on Min's face as she caught the full force of Emilio's for the first time, seeing his
favorite restaurant in all its funky glory, the wrought-iron chandeliers with the amber flame bulbs, the old
black and white photos on the walls, the red and white checked tablecloths on the square tables, the
candles in the beat-up Chianti bottles, the hand-lettered menus and mismatched silver. He waited for her
lip to curl and then realized it couldn't because her mouth had fallen open. Well, she deserved it for being
such a pain in the—
"This isgreat,''' she said, and started to laugh. "My God, how did somebody like you ever find this
place?"
"What do you mean, somebody like me?" Cal said.
She walked over to look at the photos of Emilio's family for the past eighty years. "Where did they get
this stuff?" She smiled, her soft lips parted and her dark eyes alight, and then Emilio came up behind him.
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You lie, Cal thought.
"And that means you're not interested in me," Min said when she'd finished chewing.
"Hey," he said, insulted. "What makes you think I'm only interested in sex?"
"Because you're a guy." She picked up the bread again. "Statistics show that men are interested in three
things: careers, sports, and sex. That's why they love professional cheerleaders."
Cal put his fork down. "Well, that's sexist."
Min licked a crumb off her lip, and his irritation evaporated. She was fun to look at when she wasn't
scowling: smooth milky skin, wide-set dark eyes, a blob of a nose, and that lush, soft, full, rosy mouth....
"Yes, I know," she said. "But it's true, isn't it?"
"What?" Cal tried to find his place in the conversation. "Oh, the sports and sex thing? Not at all. This is
the twenty-first century. We've learned how to be sensitive."
"You have?"
"Sure," Cal said. "Otherwise we wouldn't get laid."
She rolled her eyes, and he picked up the bottle and filled her wineglass.
"I can't," she said. "I had too much to drink at the bar."
He slid her glass closer. "I'll make sure you get home okay."
"And who'll make sure I get away from you okay?" she said and he put the bottle down.
"Okay,that was below the belt," he said, more sharply than he'd intended.
She met his eyes, and he thought,Oh, hell, here we go again. Then she nodded and said, "You're right.
You've done nothing to deserve that. I apologize." She frowned, as if thinking about something. "In fact, I
apologize for the whole night. My boyfriend dumped me about half an hour before you picked me up—"
"Ahha ," Cal said.
"—and it made me insane with rage. And then I realized that I'm not even sure Iliked him anymore, and
that the person I'm really mad at is me for being so stupid about the whole thing."
"You're not stupid," Cal said. "Making mistakes isn't stupid, it's the way you learn."
She squinted at him, looking confused. "Thank you. Anyway, this evening is not your fault. I mean, you
have your faults, but you shouldn't pay for his. Sorry."
"That's okay," he said, confused, too.What faults ? "Now drink your wine. It's good."
She picked up her glass and sipped. "You're right. This is excellent."
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"Right," David said, sitting back.Family , he thought.I have an in with the family .
Cynthie smiled at him. "I'm tired of talking about them," she said. "What is it that you do for a living?"
David thought,It's about time we got to me . He said, "I'm in software development," and watched her
eyes glaze over.
Outside Emilio's, Min took a deep breath of summer night air and thought,I'm happy . Evidently great
food was an antidote to rage and humiliation. Good to know for the future.
Then Cal came out and said, "Where's your car?" and broke her mood.
"No car," Min said. "I can walk it." She held out her hand. "Thank you for a lovely evening. Sort of.
Good-bye."
"No," Cal said, ignoring her hand. "Which way is your place?"
"Look," Min said, exasperated. "I can walk—"
"In the city alone at night? No, you can't. I was raised better than that. I'm walking you home, and
there's nothing you can do about it, so which way are we going?"
Min thought about arguing with him, but there wasn't much point. Even one short evening with Calvin
Morrisey had taught her that he got what he wanted. "Okay. Fine. Thank you very much. It's this way."
She started off down the street, listening to the breeze in the trees and the muted street noises, and Cal
fell into step beside her, the sound of his footfalls matching the click of her heels in a nice rhythm.
"So what is it you do for a living?" she asked.
"I run a business seminar group with two partners."
"You're a teacher?" Min said, surprised.
"Yes," he said. "So you're an actuary. I have a great deal of respect ,for your profession. You do it for
money. I do it for recreation."
"Do what?"
"Figure out whether something's a good bet or not." He looked down at her. "You're a gambler. You do
it with millions of dollars of an insurance company's money. I do it with ten-dollar bills."
"Yeah, but I don't lose any of my own money," Min said.
"Neither do I," Cal said.
"You winevery bet?" Min said, disbelief making her voice flat.
"Pretty much," Cal said.
"Hell of a guy," Min said. "Is that why you went into business for yourself? So you could control the
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climbed two more flights of stairs to the narrow landing with her following.
He had a great butt.
And that's all that's nice about him, Min told herself.Be sensible, keep your head here. You're never
going to see him again .
"Well, at least you know anybody who walks you home twice is serious about you," he said, as he
reached the top.
He turned as he said it, and Min, still two steps down scoping out his rear end, walked into his elbow
and clipped herself hard over the eye, knocking herself enough off balance that she tripped back,
grabbed the railing, and sat down on the step.
"Oh,Christ ," he said. "I'm sorry." He bent over her and she warded him off.
"No, no," she said. "My fault. Following too close."Ouch , she thought, gingerly feeling the place he'd
smacked her.That's what you get for being shallow and objectifying the beast .
"Just let me see it," he said, trying to look into her eyes. He put his hand gently on the side of her face to
tip her chin up.
"No." She brushed his hand away as her skin started to tingle. "I'm fine. Aside from being part of the
seventy-eight percent of women who are attacked by—"
"Oh, cut me a break," he said, straightening. "Are you all right?"
"Yes." She stood up again and detoured around him to unlock her door. "You can go now."
"Right." He picked up her hand and shook it once. "Great to meet you, Dobbs. Sorry about the elbow
to the head. Have a nice life."
"Oh, I'm going to," Min said. "I'm giving up men and getting a cat." She slipped inside and shut the door
in his face before he could say anything else.Have a nice life. Who is he kidding ?
She turned on her grandmother's china lamp by the door, and her living room sprang into shabby but
comforting view. The light on her machine was blinking, and she went over and pressed the button, and
then rubbed her temple while she listened.
"Min," her sister's voice said. "Just wanted to make sure you didn't forget the fitting tomorrow. It'll be
nice to see you." Diana sounded a little woebegone, which was not like her, and Min replayed the
message to hear her again. Something was wrong.
"The Dobbs girls cannot win," she said, and thought about Calvin Morrisey. She went over to her
battered mantel and looked over the snow globes lined up there into the tarnished mirror that had once
hung in her grandmother's hall. A plain round face, plain brown hair, that's what Cal Morrisey had looked
at all night. And now it had a nice bruise. She sighed and picked up the snow globe Bonnie had given her
for Christmas, Cinderella and her prince on the steps of their blue castle, doves flying overhead. Cal
Morrisey would look right at home on those steps. She, on the other hand, would be asked to try the
servant's entrance. "Just not the fairy tale type," she said and put the globe down to go turn on her stereo,
hitting the up button until Elvis started to sing "The Devil in Disguise."
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"And let's not forget that's what Calvin Morrisey is, Dobbs," she told herself, and went to put arnica on
her bruise and take a hot bath to wash the memory of the evening away. At least the part with David in it.
There were some moments after David that weren't entirely horrible.
But she definitely wasn't going to see Calvin Morrisey again.
When Cal got to work the next morning, the sun was shining through the tall windows in the loft office,
the smell of coffee permeated the room, Roger waved to him from his desk by the window, and Elvis
Costello was singing "The Angels Wanna Wear My Red Shoes" on the
CD player.All right, Cal thought. He dropped a folder on the frosted glass desktop, poured himself a
cup of coffee, and pulled out his Aeron chair, ready to make the world a better place for people trapped
in business training seminars.
Tony came through the door and slapped him on the back. "Nice going last night. Tell me you won."
"What are you talking about?" Cal said.
"The bet with David," Tony said. "The one about the gray-checked suit. Tell me you won it."
"Sure." Cal dropped into his desk chair. "You saw me leave with her."
"You're right, you're right, I should have had faith. You want to tell David or should I?"
"Tell him what?" Cal turned on his Mac and hit the get message button for his e-mail.
"That you had sex with the suit," Tony said.
"What?" Cal said, squinting at the screen while Elvis sang backup to his morning. "Of course I didn't."
"Oh." Tony nodded. "Well, you've still got a month."
"Tony," Cal said as the list of messages showed up in the window. "I don't know what you're talking
about, but I'm positive it's wasting my time."
"David bet you that you could get the suit into bed in a month," Tony was saying with obvious patience.
"I could use the money, too, so if you'd—"
"No," Cal said. "I did not make that bet."
"David thinks you made the bet," Tony said.
"No, he doesn't," Cal said. "Now that he's sober he does not think that he bet me ten thousand dollars I
could get a strange woman into bed. Now could we get some work done? There's money in it for you.
They pay us to do this stuff."
He slid the folder on his desk across to Tony, who picked it up and leafed through it. "Piece of cake," he
said, and began to move away. "Oh, just so you know, Cynthie left with David last night."
"Good for them." Cal turned back to his e-mail.
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the steps."
"Does that mean Liza lives on the second floor?" Tony said.
"No, Liza lives over on Pennington," Roger said. "She moves every year to a new place, about the time
she changes jobs. Bonnie says Liza likes change."
Cal looked at Tony. "You didn't walk her home?"
"She ditched me while I was in the John," Tony said. "I think she's playing hard to get."
"Sounds like Min," Cal said, going back to the computer. "Except I don't think she's playing."
"Bonnie and I walked Liza home," Roger said. "It was nice. It gave me more time with Bonnie."
"Jesus, man, pull yourself together," Tony said.
"You're serious about this?" Cal said, turning back to Roger.
"Yes."
Cal saw determination on his face. "Congratulations," he said, deciding to check Bonnie out. "Wait a
month to propose. You don't want to scare her."
"That's what I thought," Roger said.
"You're both nuts," Tony said.
"We're all going to be unemployed if we don't get to work," Cal said. "Start with the Batchelder
refresher."
"Bonnie says Min is great," Roger said. "She looked nice."
"Min is not nice," Cal said. "Min is mad at the world and taking it out on whatever guy is standing next to
her. Now about the Batchelder refresher—"
"Are you sure David knows there's no bet?" Tony said.
"Positive," Cal said. "I'm never seeing that woman again. Now about theBatchelder refresher ..."
At half past four that afternoon, Min walked into the ivory moire-draped fitting room of the city's best
bridal emporium, well aware she was late and not caring much. Her mother was probably so absorbed in
harassing Diana and the fitter that—
"You're late," Nanette Dobbs said. "The appointment was for four."
"I work." Min crossed the thick gold carpet and detoured around the dark-haired bundle of
exasperation that had given birth to her, dropping her jacket on an ivory-upholstered chair. "That means
the insurance company gets first dibs on my time. If you want me here on the dot, schedule this for after
work."
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"That's ridiculous," Nanette said. "Your dress is in the second dressing room. The fitter is with Diana and
the other girls. Give me your blouse, you'll just drop it on the floor in there." She held out one imperious,
French-manicured hand, and Min sighed and took off her blouse.
"Oh,Min," her mother said, her voice heavy with unsurprised contempt. "Wherever did you get that
bra?"
Min looked down at her underwear. Plain cotton, but perfectly respectable. "I have no idea. Why?"
"White cotton," Nanette said. "Honestly, Min, plain cotton is like plain vanilla—"
"I like plain vanilla."
"—there's no excitement there at all."
Min blinked. "I was at work. There's never any excitement."
"I'm talking about men," Nanette said. "You're thirty-three. Your prime years are past you, and you're
wearing white cotton."
"I was atwork ," Min said, losing patience.
"It doesn't matter." Her mother shook out Min's blouse, checked the label, saw it was silk, and looked
partly mollified. "If you're wearing white cotton lingerie, you'll feel like white cotton, and you'll act like
white cotton, and white cotton cannot get a man, nor can it keep one. Always wear lace."
"You'd make a nice pimp," Min said, and headed for the dressing room.
"Minerva," her mother said.
"Well, I'm sorry." Min stopped and turned around. "But honestly, Mother, this conversation is getting
old. I'm not even sure I want to get married, and you're critiquing my underwear because it's not good
enough bait. Can't you—"
Nanette lifted her chin, and her jawline became even more taut. "This is the kind of attitude that's going
to lose David."
Min took a deep breath. "About David ..."
"What?" Her mother's body tensed beneath her size four Dana Buchman suit. "What about David?"
Min smiled cheerfully. "We're no longer seeing each other."
"Oh,Min," Nanette wailed, clutching Min's blouse to her bosom, the picture of despair in the middle of a
lot of expensive gold and ivory decor.
"He wasn't right for me, Mother," Min said.
"Yes," Nanette said, "but couldn't you have kept him until after the wedding?"
"Evidently not," Min said. "Let's cut to the chase. What do I have to do to keep you from mentioning his
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name ever again?"
"Wear lace."
"That will get you off my back?"
"For a while."
Min grinned at her and headed for the dressing room door. "You are a piece of work."
"So are you, darling," Nanette said, surveying her eldest. "I'm very proud of you, you know. You have a
blotch of makeup over your eye. What is that?"
"Oh, for crying out loud." Min closed the door behind her. She unzipped her skirt, let it fall to the gold
carpet, and studied herself in the gold-framed mirror. "You're not that bad," she told herself, not
convinced. "You just have to find a man who likes very healthy women."
She unclipped the long lavender skirt from the gold hanger and stepped into it, being careful not to rip
the knife-pleated chiffon ruffle at the bottom, and sucked in her stomach to get it buttoned. Then she
shrugged on the lavender chiffon blouse and buttoned the tiny buttons, stretching the fabric tightly across
her bust so that her white bra showed at the corners of the low, squared bodice. She shook out the
sleeves, and the chiffon fell over her hands in wide double ruffles that she would drag through everything
at the reception. The blouse also erupted around her hips in more ruffles at the side. "Oh, yes," she said.
"More width at the hip. Can't ever get enough of that."
Then she picked up the corset, a blue and lavender watercolor moire tied with lavender ribbons. The
fabric had been so beautiful when Diana had chosen it six months before that Min had hired the
seamstress to make a comforter for her bed with it, and she looked at the narrow corset now and
thought,I'm going to have to wear the comforter. This is never going to fit. She took a deep breath
and wrapped the corset around her. It shoved her breasts up to a dizzying height and then failed to meet
in the middle by almost two inches.Carbs. She thought vicious thoughts about Cal Morrisey and Emilio's
bread. Then she tried to smooth out the extra foundation without showing the bruise and went out into the
dressing room to face her mother.
Instead, she found Diana, standing on the fitting platform in front of the huge, gold-framed mirror,
flanked by her two lovely bridesmaids, the women Liza called Wet and Worse, while the Dixie Chicks
played on Diana's portable CD player.
" 'Ready to Run,'" Min said to Diana. "And so not appropriate."
"Hmmm?" Diana said, staring into the mirror. "No, it'sRunaway Bride ."
"Right," Min said, remembering that Diana had decided to score her wedding to music from Julia
Roberts's movies. Well, at least it was a plan.
"I loved that movie," Susie said. She looked blond, bilious, miserable, and, well, wet in corseted green
chiffon, the loser in the bridesmaid dress lottery.
"I thought it was ridiculous," dark-haired Karen, a.k.a. Worse, said, looking sophisticated and superior
in corseted blue chiffon.
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me."
"She had very high standards."
"She was a bitter, controlling snob," Cal said. "You should have cut your losses after the first date."
"Is that what you did last night?" Shanna said.
"Hell, yes," Cal said.
"Well, I can't do that," Shanna said, going back to her cookie jar. "I'm not like you. I have to give it a fair
shot."
Cal sighed. "All right. Why did she leave?"
Shanna's face crumpled again. "She said I was too much of a doormat."
"Well, she wiped her feet on you often enough to know," Cal said. Shanna burst into tears, and he went
to her and put his arms around her. "Get mad at her, Shan. She was not a nice person."
"But I loved her!" Shanna wailed into his chest, spitting Oreo crumbs on his shirt.
"No, you didn't," Cal said, holding her tighter. "You wanted to love her. It's not the same thing. You only
knew her a couple of weeks."
"It can happen like that." Shanna looked up into his face. "You can just know."
"No," Cal said. "You do not look at somebody, hear Elvis Costello singing 'She' on the soundtrack in
your head, and fall in love. It takes time."
"Like you'd know." Shanna pulled away and picked up her cookie jar. "Have you ever stayed with
anybody long enough to love her?"
"Hey," Cal said, insulted.
"That's no answer," Shanna said, retreating to her couch with her cookies. "Is that why you keep walking
away so fast? Because at least Itry ."
"This is not about me," Cal said.
"I know, I know," Shanna said, fishing out another Oreo. "God, I'm a mess. Want a cookie?"
"No," Cal said. "Get your act together and try again tomorrow. If you swing by the office, I'll take you to
lunch before you go to work."
"That would be nice," Shanna said. "You're a good person, Cal. Sometimes I wish you were a
woman—"
"Thank you," Cal said doubtfully.
"—and then I remember you have that commitment phobia and I'm glad you're a guy. I have enough
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problems."
"This is true." Cal put his hand on the doorknob. "Can I go home now?"
"Sure," Shanna said. "Take me someplace expensive tomorrow."
"I'll take you to Emilio's," Cal said. "He needs the business and you like the pesto."
While Cal was trying to prop up Shanna, Min stopped by Emilio's to pick up salad and bread.
"Ah, the lovely Min!" he said when she tracked him down in his kitchen.
"Emilio, my darling," Min said. "I need salad and bread for three right now and a kickass wedding cake
for two hundred three weeks from Sunday."
"Oh." Emilio leaned against the counter. "My grandmother makes wedding cakes. They taste like ..." He
shut his eyes. "... heaven. Light as a feather." He opened his eyes. "But they're good, old-fashioned
cakes, they don't have marzipan birds or fondant icing."
"Could she make a cake and decorate it with fresh flowers?" Min said. "I can get some real pearls.
Maybe if the cake is covered with real things instead of sugar imitations, people will be impressed."
"I don't know," Emilio said. "But what matters is how it tastes, and it will taste—"
"Emilio, that's sweet," Min said, imagining Nanette's reaction to that one. "Unfortunately, in this case,
what matters is how it looks."
"How about this," Emilio said. "I'll see if she'll do the cake. If she says yes, she'll ice it plain, and you can
put the flowers and the pearls on it."
"Me," Min said doubtfully. "Well, not me, but Bonnie can do it, she has fabulous taste. It's a deal. Call
your grandma."
Emilio picked up the phone. "So you taking Cal to this wedding?"
"I'm never seeing Cal again," Min said.
"God, you guys are dumb," Emilio said as he punched the numbers into the phone. In a moment, his face
brightened. "Nonna?" he said and began to talk in Italian. The only word Min recognized was "Cal"
which was worrying, but when Emilio hung up, he was smiling.
"It's all set," he said. "I told her you were Cal's girlfriend. She loves Cal."
"All women do." Min kissed him on the cheek. "You are my hero."
"That's the food," Emilio said, and packed up bread and salad for three for her. Then she went home
and walked up thirty-two steps to Bonnie's apartment on the first floor.
"So," Liza said when she answered Bonnie's door. "You want to explain last night?"
"Can I come in first?" Min said, and slid past Liza into Bonnie's bright, warm apartment.
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Bonnie had set her mission table with her Royal Doulton Tennyson china and a cut glass vase of grocery
roses. It looked so pretty that Min thought,Okay, my apartment will never look this good, but I could
set a bet-ter table. I could even cook. I could get my grandmother's kitchen things out of the
basement . It would be nice to do kitchen stuff like her grandmother had. Maybe bake cookies.
That she couldn't eat.
Min sighed and put the Styrofoam boxes down on Bonnie's table.
"What's that?" Bonnie said, poking at the Styrofoam.
"The best salad you'll ever eat, and even better bread," Min said, and Bonnie went to get serving bowls.
"Bread?" Liza said to Min. "You're going to eat bread?"
"No," Min said. "I ate bread last night and then paid for it today. You're going to eat bread, and I'm
going to live vicariously."
Liza made a face as she pulled out one of Bonnie's tall dining room chairs. "Like dessert. Stats, you—"
"What did you bring?" Min said, dreading the answer.
"Raspberry Swirl Dove Bars," Liza said, as she sat down.
"Rot in hell," Min said, pulling out her own chair. "Why can't you ever bring fruit?"
"Because fruit is not dessert," Liza said. "Now explain to us why you left the bar with Calvin Morrisey
last night."
Min shoved the bread box Liza's way. "David bet him ten bucks he couldn't get me into bed in a month."
She watched them freeze in place, Bonnie with a platter of chicken and vegetables in her hands, Liza
opening the bread.
"You arekidding me" Liza said, her face dangerous with anger.
"I let him pick me up because I had a plan to get a date to the wedding, and then I realized I couldn't put
up with that smarmy charm for three weeks, so I ate an excellent dinner and left."
Bonnie's face crumpled. "Oh, honey, that's awful."
"No," Min said. "Let's forget Cal Morrisey and eat. I want to talk about Diana. She's not happy."
"Wet and Worse." Liza gave Min a look that said they'd be talking about Cal again soon. "They'd bring
anybody down."
Min closed her eyes. "Do not call them that. I almost called Susie Wet this afternoon at the fitting. She
looked like she was about to sob through the whole thing."
"Well, that's understandable," Bonnie said, sympathy in her voice. She put the platter in the middle of the
table and sat down, too.
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Liza dumped the bread into a bowl. "Maybe Di shouldn't have asked Wet to be a bridesmaid. That's
almost cruel."
"It would be worse not to be asked," Bonnie said. "Is that why she's upset, Min?"
"I think it's Greg," Min said, starting on her salad, "but she won't admit it. He's the one who forgot to
order the wedding cake."
"Whoa," Liza said. "This is a man who's resisting his own wedding. And let's face it, your mother and
Diana railroaded him into it."
"He proposed on his own," Bonnie said.
"I think he wanted a longer engagement," Min said. "But he said yes when they set the date. He's not
incapable of speech. He could have said 'No.'"
"To Nanette and Diana?" Liza said as she started on her salad. "Fat chance. Worse will do a kind deed
before Greg will grow a spine. Now you talk about Calvin Morrisey and this damn bet. We want to
knoweverything."
Half an hour later, the salad was gone, the leftover chicken was in the refrigerator, and Bonnie was
unwrapping a Dove Bar as Min finished her recap of the evening.
"At least he walked you home," Bonnie said. "That was nice." She sounded doubtful.
"Yes. And then he hit me in the head, said, 'Have a nice life,' and left me," Min said. "I didn't like him,
you guys don't like him, and he didn't like me. I think that's a perfect score."
"I think that whole good-bye thing is a trick," Liza said around a mouthful of Dove Bar. "I think he's
putting you off guard, and he'll be back. If you're not careful, he'll charm you into bed and break your
heart."
Min frowned at her in exasperation. "How naive do I look? I know about the bet. Anyway, I have a
new plan."
"Oh, good," Liza said. "Because you don't have enough plans."
Min ignored her. "I was listening to Elvis singing 'Love Me Tender' last night, and it occurred to me that
if he'd been reincarnated, he'd be about twenty-seven now, and I'm open to younger men. Statistically,
the most successful marriages are those in which the woman is eight years older than the man. So I've
decided to wait for Elvis to find me."
"You'd only be six years older," Bonnie said.
"Yes, but it would be Elvis, so I'd try harder," Min said.
"Why Elvis?" Liza said.
"Because he always tells the truth when he sings. Elvis is the only man in my life I can trust."
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"So let me get this straight," Lisa said, pointing with her half-eaten Dove Bar. "Bonnie is waiting for a
fairy tale character to make her life complete, and you're holding out for the reincarnation of a guy who
ate fried banana sandwiches."
"Yep," Min said, and Liza shook her head.
"I might have found my prince," Bonnie said. "Roger's good."
"Roger?" Min asked, trying not to watch Liza consume her Dove Bar.
"We picked up the beast's friends last night," Liza said around her ice cream. "Bonnie got the one that
walks upright."
"Roger is a sweetheart," Bonnie said. "I'm thinking of breaking my date Saturday night and going out
with him instead. I'll wait and see how Friday night with him works out."
"He asked you out?" Min said, relieved to be off the subject of Cal. "Tell all."
"He asked her out for every night for the rest of her life," Liza said. "He's blind for her."
"That's nice." Min picked a last salad leaf out of her bowl to compensate for her lack of sugar. "So he
has potential, Bon?"
"Maybe." Bonnie came as close to frowning as she ever did. "I think if I keep seeing him for a couple of
weeks and it's working, I'll take him home to Mama and let her scope him out."
Min raised her eyebrows. "You think he'll cross three states to meet your mother after two weeks?"
"He would cross the Andes to get her a toothpick," Liza said. "It's pathetic."
"No, it's not." Bonnie frowned over her ice cream stick. "It's sweet. And he thinks Cal is great, which is
confusing."
"So Bonnie met a good one," Min said to Liza, ignoring the Cal reference. "Who'd you get?"
"The village idiot," Liza said. "He also thinks Cal is the man. They're like the Three Stooges. Only not
funny."
"The Three Stooges aren't funny," Bonnie said.
"Too true," Min said. "Are you seeing the idiot again?"
"Yes." Liza licked the last of her ice cream off the stick. "I think your beast is coming back, and my idiot
babbles nicely when I ask him questions. Plus, there is a bartender who lives next door to the beast with
whom I must bond."
"Well, don't ask questions for me," Min said. "Calvin Morrisey is not part of my future."
"He will be tomorrow night," Bonnie said. "He'll be at The Long Shot with Roger and Tony."
Min shook her head. "Then I'll stay home."
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"No," Bonnie said, stricken. "We don't have to go there. We'll go somewhere else so you can come,
too."
"And make you miss Roger?" Min reconsidered. "No. Not even I am selfish enough to cross True Love.
I'll go. I want to see this Roger up close anyway."
"Are you sure Cal made that bet?" Bonnie said.
"I was standing right there," Min said. "I heard it. With my own ears. He said, 'Piece of cake.'" That
rankled more than anything.
"Because Roger thinks the world of him," Bonnie said. "He told me all about him, about the three of
them. It's kind of sad. They met in summer school when they were in the third grade. Roger said he was
a slow thinker, and Tony didn't care about school, and Cal was dyslexic, so everybody thought they
were dumb."
"Cal's dyslexic?" Min said, surprised.
"Tonyis dumb," Liza said at the same time.
"No," Bonnie said, with the heavy patience that meant "back off."
"Tony is not dumb. When he cares, he's very smart. And Roger isn't dumb, either, he's just very
methodical, you can't hurry him. He's like my uncle Julian."
"Oh, God," Liza said to the ceiling. "He's like family. I will bet you anything that Roger is her If this
week."
"I don't bet," Min said. "Bonnie? What's your If?"
Bonnie stuck her chin out. "If Roger turns out to be as sweet as I think he is, I'm going to marry him."
"Oh, good grief," Liza said.
"Leave her alone," Min said to Liza. "She gets whatever If she wants. What's yours?"
Liza straightened. "If my job doesn't get any more interesting, I'm quitting next week."
"Get the calendar," Min said to Bonnie.
"I don't have to," Bonnie said. "It was August when she quit the last time because she said nobody
should work in a heat wave."
"Ten months," Min said. "That's not good. Her attention span is getting shorter."
"It's an If," Liza said to Min. "I'm keeping an eye on my options. I think I might want to waitress again if I
can find someplace fun. What's your If?"
Min thought of Cal Morrisey, and her head began to throb. "If I can find the reincarnation of Elvis, I'll
date again. Until then, I'm taking a break from inter-gender socialization. It's just too painful."
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"I am the only sane woman in this room," Liza said.
"Sanity is overrated," Min said, and went home to get an aspirin.
The next night, Cal was back at The Long Shot, as far away from the landing as possible to give himself
a wide escape path. Roger was ten feet away, looking at Bonnie as if she were the center of the universe.
Bonnie was looking at Roger as if he were a very nice man she didn't know very well. Cal shook his
head. Watching Roger date was like watching a toddler in traffic.
Tony sat down beside Cal and slid his Scotch over. "I think you should go for it," he said, nodding
toward the bar.
"What?" Cal looked past Bonnie, to see a tall, slender redhead. Tony's Liza. Then she shifted and he
saw Min standing behind her, draped in a loose red sweater. It had some kind of hood hanging down the
back, and Roger tugged on it and said something that made her smile. "Great." Now he'd have to put up
with Min slanging at him for another evening.
"It's not like you to stare and not do anything about it," Tony said. "You are losing it."
"I was watching Roger and Bonnie," Cal said.
"Oh." Tony looked over at Roger and shrugged. "Yep, he's a goner. Well, we all gotta die sometime."
"Yeah, you're the guy I want watching my back," Cal said.
"Well, what are you gonna do?" Tony looked past him and straightened. "What the hell? Where do they
think they're going?"
Cal turned back to see the four of them commandeer a poker table on the other side of the bar. "Not
here," he said, cheering up. Evidently Min had had as bad a time as he'd had. Which was her own fault
because she was impossible to please. God knew he'd tried. Well, except for clipping her there at the
end.
She sat down beside Liza, and he watched her as she leaned back and stretched out her black-clad
legs. Her legs were pretty good, strong full calves, sturdy, like Min in general.
"She'll be over here in five minutes," Tony said.
"Ten bucks says she won't," Cal said, turning back to his Glenlivet.
"You're on," Tony said. "She wants me."
"You?" Cal said, startled. "Oh, you mean Liza." He looked back at the redhead who was laughing with
Min and giving no evidence whatsoever that she knew Tony existed. "Nope, she won't, either."
"Oh, you were talking about the chub?" Tony said.
"Don't call her that," Cal said. "Her name is Min. She's a good woman, apart from her rage." He
watched her as she leaned sideways in her chair to say something to Bonnie. "She's not chubby. She's
just got a really round body. Everywhere."
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"Nice rack," Tony said, trying to be fair. "So you struck out, huh?"
"No," Cal said, turning his back on them again. "I asked her to dinner and she went. Then I walked her
home and said good-bye. I did not strike out."
"Finally, a woman you can't get," Tony said, satisfaction in his voice. "That's kind of depressing because
it's like an era is passing—"
"I didn'ttry ," Cal said.
"—but it's good to know you put on your pants one leg at a time like the rest of us."
"I've never understood that," Cal said. "How else would you put on your pants?"
Tony leaned over. "Ten bucks says you can't get Min to go out with you tomorrow night."
"I don't want to go out with her tomorrow night," Cal said.
"Take her to the movies," Tony said. "You won't have to talk to her."
"Tony. .."
"Ten bucks, hotshot. I don't think you can do it."
Cal looked over his shoulder at Min. All the laughing aside, she didn't look any more relaxed than she'd
been Wednesday night. And she was ignoring him. He shook his head at Tony. "She won't go. No bet."
"This is hard to believe," Tony said. "You chickening out."
"Tony, she hates men right now. She just broke up with somebody."
"Well, there you go. She's on the rebound," Tony said. "That gives you an edge. You could get her into
bed."
"I don't want her in bed," Cal said. "She'll probably ice pick the next guy she sleeps with to get even with
the guy who dumped her. Trust me, this is not a woman you close your eyes around."
"Wuss," Tony said. "I'll make it easy. Lunch. Ten bucks says you can't get her to lunch."
Cal looked over at Min again. What would get her to lunch? She was sitting back in her chair now,
smiling at Roger, as if she were sizing him up. Protective of her friend. She could relax about Roger. If
Bonnie got him, she'd be a lucky woman.
Of course, Min didn't know that.
"You in?" Tony said.
So if he went over and said—
"Cynthie just came in," Tony said.
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"Hell." Cal sat up but didn't look toward the door. "She hates this bar. Why—"
"She's stalking you," Tony said. "She must really want to get married. And she's headed this way."
"Right." Cal stood up. "Come on."
"Where?" Tony said, not rising.
"Over there so you can harass your redhead while I get a lunch date and duck Cyn. You're on."
"You just lost ten bucks, old buddy," Tony said, practically chortling. "I saw Min's face when you came
in, and she was not happy to see you." He stood up, too. "I can't believe you went for that. You hit her in
the head, you dork. Why would she go anywhere with you?"
"Ten bucks first," Cal said, holding out his hand.
"You have to get the date first," Tony said. "Which ain't happening."
"No, this is for the redhead who did not come to get you in five minutes," Cal said, and Tony sighed and
got out his wallet.
Min was ignoring Cal and checking out Roger, when Liza pulled up the chair to her right and sat down.
"So," Liza said, sliding over a Diet Coke and rum. "What's new with Di?"
"I called her today," Min said, picking up her drink. "I asked her if everything was okay with Wet—"
She closed her eyes. "—withSusie , and she said, yes, Susie's dating a very nice man and she's fine with
the wedding. And Worse . . . andKaren has talked to Susie and has assured Diana that Susie's fine with
it."
"Is she delusional?" Liza said, as somebody pulled up a chair to Min's left.
"Who? Wet, Worse, or Diana?" Min said.
"All of them," Liza said.
"My guess is that Wet's being brave, Worse is being a bully, and Diana's in denial," Min said, turning to
see who was on her left. "Oh," she said, when she saw Cal sitting there with two glasses in front of him.
He was as beautiful as he'd been two nights before, and her DNA went wild again.
"Hello, little girl," he said and flipped the hood on her sweater.
Liza snorted and turned to talk to Bonnie on her other side.
"Oh, that's good," Min said. "You're definitely the first person to make a Red Riding Hood crack to me
tonight. I'm never wearing this sweater again."
"Hostility," Cal said. "It's deja vu all over again. How's your head?"
"The pain comes and goes," Min said. "And then there are the voices."
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"Good. Now you have someone to talk to. Who are Wet, Worse, and Diana, and how did they get
those terrible names?"
"Nobody you want to know." Min picked up her drink. "What are you up to?"
"Let me guess," Cal said, his voice heavy with scorn. "That's a rum and Diet Coke. The breakfast of
dieters."
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?"
"No, Buffy. Fate sent me over here to teach you to drink with dignity." He took her rum away from her
and slid one of his glasses over to her. "Glenlivet. Drink it slowly."
Min frowned at him. "This is your idea of charm?"
"No," Cal said. "I don't waste charm on you. I'm trying to help you grow. Real women do not screw up
good booze with diet soda."
"Peer pressure," Min said. "It never stops."
"Try it," Cal said. "One sip. You hate it, I'll give you this slop back."
Min shrugged. "Okay." She picked it up and took a drink and then choked as the Scotch seared her
throat.
"I said,sip , Dobbs," Cal said over her gasping. "You're supposed to savor it, not guzzle it."
"Thank you," Min said when she had her breath back. "You can go now."
"No, I can't." He leaned closer, and Min started to feel too warm in her sweater. "I have a deal for you."
Min picked up the Scotch again and sipped it. It was nice when you sipped it.
Cal leaned closer until he was almost whispering in her ear. "I want to know about Bonnie."
His breath was warm on her neck, and Min blinked at him. "Bonnie? I think Roger's got dibs on
Bonnie."
"I know. That's why I want to know about her. Roger is. .." Cal looked across the table. ". .. not adept
with women. I want to know about your friend."
"Well," Min said, prepared to give Bonnie a perfect report card.
"Not here," Cal said, still too close. "I think they'll notice. I'll meet you for lunch tomorrow. You know
where Cherry Hill Park is?"
"I've heard of it," Min said. "I don't have the bank account to go up there and hang around."
"There's a picnic area on the north side," Cal said. "I'll meet you at the first table tomorrow at noon."
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"Why do I feel like there should be a code word?" Min said, finally pulling away from him. "I'll say
'pretentious' and you say 'snob.'"
"You want to know about Roger or not?" Cal said.
Min looked back at Bonnie. If you didn't know her, she looked detached, but Min knew her. Bonnie
was glowing. "Yes."
"Good," Cal said. "Let me see your shoes."
"What?" Min said, and Cal looked under the table. She pulled her foot out, and he looked down at her
open-toed high-heeled mules, laced across her instep with black leather thongs that contrasted with her
pale skin and bright red toenail polish. "Liza calls them 'Toes in Bondage,'" she said helpfully.
"Does she?" Cal sat very still, looking at her toes for a long moment. "Well, that's made my evening. See
you tomorrow at noon." He pushed back his chair and left, taking his Scotch and her rum and Diet Coke
with him.
"Okay, I couldn't hear the part at the end," Liza said, leaning over to her. "What was he asking you?"
"I'm going to lunch tomorrow," Min said, not sure how she felt about that. If he whispered in her ear
again, she was going to have to smack him, that was all there was to it.
"Where?"
"Cherry Hill Park."
"Jeez," Liza said. "Softball of the Rich and Famous. What time?"
"Noon."
Liza nodded. Then she raised her voice and called, "Tony."
Min looked around for him and saw him at the roulette bar, handing Cal a ten-dollar bill. "I don'tbelieve
it," she said, straightening in outrage. The sonofabitch had bet on lunch and she'd fallen for it.
Tony looked up, and Liza crooked her finger. He walked over and said, "You know, I'm not the kind of
guy you can do that to."
"You and I are having lunch at noon tomorrow in Cherry Hill Park," Liza said.
"Okay," Tony said. "But only because I've gotta coach a Softball game there in the morning anyway."
"Good," Liza said. "You can go now."
Tony shook his head at her and went back to the bar and Cal.
"Well, at least he's obedient," Min said.
"Don't get any ideas about saying yes at lunch," Liza said.
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"It'slunch" Min said. "In broad daylight. In a public park."
"You said you weren't going to see him, and he still got you to lunch."
"I had a reason for that," Min said, casting a bitter glance at the bar. Cal was still there, but now the
brunette from Wednesday was there, too, moving closer to him in a blue halter top. That figured. Beast.
"I'll be fine, believe me, I know what he is." She cast another look at the bar where Cal appeared to be
sliding away from the halter top. Playing hard to get, the jerk.
"Yeah, well, I'm watching your back just the same," Liza said. "And if it hits the grass, Calvin's going to
lose a body part."
"Boy, you really don't like him, do you?" Min said.
"I think he bet Tony he could get that lunch date," Liza said.
"I think so, too," Min said.
"See if you can do something horrible to him tomorrow," Liza said.
"Already planning it," Min said.
After another excruciating Saturday morning forcing fourteen eight-year-olds to play baseball against
their better judgments, Cal was not in the mood to put up with Min, but he grabbed his cooler from the
car, stopped by the charity hot dog stand for the main course, and went to meet her at the picnic table
he'd told her about. She wasn't there, so he threw an old blanket across the massive teak table—Cherry
Hill did not stint on the amenities—put the basket on it, and then sat on top of the table, feeling cheerful
about being stood up. It was a beautiful day, the park was thick with shade trees, the kids were gone,
and nobody was bitching at him.
Then Min came into the park through the trees, following the curving crushed gravel path. She was
wearing her long red sweater again, but this time she had on a red-and-black-checked skirt that floated
when the breeze blew. Her hair was still wound in a knot on the top of her head, but her stride was long
and loose as she came toward him, and the sun picked up glints of gold in her hair, and she smiled at him
as she drew closer, and it suddenly seemed better not to have been stood up. And when he offered her
his hand to help her up on the table, she hesitated and then took it, and her fingers were pleasantly,
solidly warm as she boosted herself up beside him on the table.
"Hi," she said and he grinned at her.
"Hi," he said. "Thank you for coming."
"Thank you for inviting me." Min dropped her bag on the bench below them. "Give me ten bucks."
Cal blinked. "What?"
Min smiled at him, cheerful as the sun. "I was going to make your lunch a living hell, but it's such a
beautiful day, I've decided to enjoy it. You bet Tony ten bucks you could get me to lunch."
"No, I didn't," Cal said.
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Min's smile disappeared.
"Tony bet me ten bucks I could get you to lunch."
Min rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Give me ten bucks or I'm leaving you cold and you'll have to give Tony
his ten bucks back plus ten more because you've lost."
"I think I won when you said, 'Yes,'" Cal said, suddenly a lot more interested in Min.
"Try explaining that to Tony," Min said.
"Okay," Cal said. "How about we split it?"
Min held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. "Ten bucks, Charm Boy."
Cal sighed and dug out his wallet, trying not to grin at her. She took the ten, picked up her bag, stuffed
the bill in it and then pulled out a twenty and handed it to him.
"What's this?" Cal said.
"That's the twenty you gave me for cab fare on Wednesday," Min said. "I forgot to give it back to you."
"So now I'm up ten bucks," Cal said.
"No, now you've broken even. It was your twenty to begin with. I had no right to it since you didn't get
fresh."
Cal looked up at the sun. "The day's young."
"I don't see you making your move on a picnic table," Min said. "In fact, I don't see you moving on me at
all, so tuck that away and tell me everything you know about Roger."
"I'm glad to see you, too," he said, and her smile widened.
"Sorry. I forgot your lust for small talk. And how have you been in the fourteen hours since we last
spoke, eight of which you were sleeping?"
"Fine. And you?"
"Wonderful. How much of this before we get to Roger and Bonnie?"
"You're a very practical woman," Cal said, and then Min pulled her legs up to tuck them under her and
he caught sight of her shoes, ridiculous sandals made mostly of ribbons with a single bright red flower
over the instep. "Except for your shoes."
"Don't make fun of my shoes." Min wiggled red-tipped toes under the flowers. "I love these shoes. Liza
gave them to me for Christmas." She untied the ribbons and pulled them off and put them on the table
behind her, patting the flowers before she turned back to him.
"I can see why you love them," Cal said, distracted by her toes, and then she pulled her skirt over them
and he added, "They're very Elvis."
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She raised her eyebrows. ''''Youare an Elvis fan?"
"Best there is," Cal said. "You, too?"
"Oh, absolutely." Min looked perplexed and then said, "Well, I guess it does makes sense. You are the
devil in disguise."
"What?" Cal said, and then it hit him. "ElvisPresley}"
"Well, of course, Elvis Presley," Min said. "What other . . .oh . The angels want to wear my red shoes.
Elvis Costello." She shrugged. "He's good, too."
Cal shook his head in disbelief. "Yes, he is."
"Good thing this isn't a date," Min said cheerfully. "Or there'd be a really awkward silence while we tried
to come back from that one."
Cal grinned at her. "Have you ever had an awkward silence in your life, Dobbs?"
"Not many," Min said. "You?"
"Nope." Cal dumped the bag of wrapped hot dogs out on the blanket. "Okay. Roger and Bonnie. Have
a hot dog while we talk."
"A hot dog?" Min said, in the same tone of voice she'd have used to say "Cocaine?"
"Those aren't good for you."
"They're protein," Cal said, exasperated. "You can have them. Just lose the bun."
"Fat," Min said.
"I thought fat was okay on no-carb diets," Cal said, remembering Cynthie chowing down on buttered
shrimp.
"It is, but I'm on a no-fat Atkins," Min said.
Cal looked at her, incredulous. "Which leaves youwhat to eat?"
"Not much," Min said, looking at the hot dogs with patent longing.
"They're brats," Cal said.
"Oh, just hell," Min said.
"It's Saturday," Cal said. "Live a little."
"That's what you said Wednesday at Emilio's. I've already sinned this week."
"Saturday is the first day of the new week. Sin again."
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Min bit her lip, and the breeze picked up again, rustling the trees and lifting the edge of skirt, floating it
closer to him.
"I brought you Diet Coke to compensate," he said, opening the cooler. "Also, this conversation is
boring."
"Right. Sorry." She took the can he handed her and popped it open. "Really sorry. There's nothing more
boring than talking about food."
"No," Cal said. "Talking about food is great. Talking about not having food is boring." He picked up one
of the wax-paper-wrapped sandwiches and handed it to her. "Eat."
Min looked at the hot dog, sighed, and unwrapped it. "You are a beast."
"Because I'm feeding you?" Cal said. "How is that bad? We're Americans. We're supposed to eat well.
It's the American Way."
"Hot dogs are the American Way?" Min said, and then stopped. "Oh. I guess they are, aren't they? Right
up there with baseball and apple pie."
"Baseball you can have," Cal said and bit into his hot dog.
Min squinted at his team shirt. "Isn't that shirt sort of baseball-ish?"
"Yes," Cal said. "For my sins, I teach children to run around bases on Saturday mornings. Someday,
your husband will be doing this, too, while you sit in the bleachers and cheer on little whosis. It's the price
you pay for liberty."
"I'm not having kids," Min said, and bit into her hot dog.
"You're not?" Cal said, and then was distracted by the look of bliss on her face while she chewed. The
brats were good, but they weren't that good.
She swallowed and sighed. "This is wonderful. My dad used to sneak us out for brats every time there
was a festival anyplace within driving distance. My mother would have killed him if she'd known. Do you
know how long it's been since I tasted one of these? It's heaven."
"It looks like heaven," he said, and then she leaned over to take another bite, keeping the sandwich over
the waxed paper to catch the drippings, and he looked down the v-neck of her loose red sweater and
saw a lot of lush round flesh in tight red lace.Tony would have a heart attack, he thought and then
realized he was a little lightheaded himself. The breeze blew again and wafted her skirt against the hand
he had braced on the table, and it tickled, soft and light.
"So," he said, moving his hand. "All right. Why don't you want to be part of the American Way?"
She chewed with her eyes closed, and he looked down her sweater again and had impure thoughts.
Then she swallowed and said, "I have to give birth to be a good American? No. There are more than
four million babies born in this country every year. The American Way is covered. If it worries you, you
can have extra to make up for mine."
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"Me?" Cal sat back away from distraction. "I don't want kids. I'm just surprised that you don't. You'd
make a great mom."
"Why?" Min stopped with the sandwich halfway to her mouth.
Because she looked soft all over. Because she looked like she'd age into the kind of mother he'd have
killed for. "Because you look comfortable."
"Oh, God,yes ," Min said, glaring at him. "That'sexactly the compliment every woman longs for."
She leaned forward to bite into her sandwich, and he watched transfixed as her breasts pressed against
the lace again.
"It's a very sexy comfortable if that makes it better," he said.
"Marginally better," she said, following his eyes down. "You're looking down my sweater."
"You're leaning over. There's all that red lace right there."
"Lace is good, huh?" Min said.
"Oh, yeah."
"My mother wins again," Min said and bit into her hot dog.
Cal picked up his hot dog. "How'd your mother get into this?"
"She's pervasive." Min swallowed, frowning. "So if you don't like kids, how'd you end up coaching?"
"I didn't say I didn't like kids," Cal said, trying to think of something beside Min's red lace. "I said I didn't
want kids. There's a difference."
"Good point. And yet I ask, why coach?"
"I got shanghaied," Cal said. "We both did. Harry hates baseball as much as I hate coaching."
"Who's Harry?"
"My nephew."
"Why don't the two of you go AWOL?"
"Turns out there are other kids on the team besides Harry," Cal said. "Who knew?"
"Funny. So you're out here every Saturday morning?" Min shook her head. "That must have been some
shanghai."
"I got hit by the best." He picked up a pickle and bit into it. "It's not that bad. Roger and Tony do most
of the work. They like it."
"Roger," Min said. "Ah yes, Roger. I have some questions about Roger."
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"Not Tony?" Cal said.
"Tony is seeing Liza," Min said. "If Tony turns out to be a rat, Liza will exterminate him."
"Tony's hard to put down," Cal said, "but I get your drift. So Bonnie's not like that?"
"Bonnie is no pushover," Min said. "She's smart and she's tough but she has this one blind spot. She
believes in the fairy tale, that there's one man in the world for her. And she thinks your friend Roger is her
prince on very little evidence. So tell me about Roger."
"Roger's the best guy I know," Cal said. "And he's crazy about Bonnie. He's going to get banged up if
she walks away. Tell me about Bonnie."
Min shifted on the blanket as she reached for her Coke can, and Cal watched her, aware of every move
she made, of the smooth curve of her neck as her sweater slipped toward her shoulder, the ease in her
round body as she leaned back and smiled at him, the swell of her calf under her checked skirt as it blew
toward him again. "Bonnie," she said, bringing him back to the subject at hand, "spent a year and a half
looking at couches. Couches are very important, they're right up there with beds in hierarchy of furniture,
but even I thought a year and a half was a long time looking for a couch."
"Yes," Cal said, trying to think of Roger instead of curves. "But—"
"Then one night we were on the way to the movies and she stopped in front of a furniture store window
and said, 'Wait a minute,' and went in and bought this horribly expensive couch in about five minutes."
Min leaned forward again, and Cal looked down her sweater again and thought,Don't do that, I'm
getting a headache from the blood rush. "She had to put it on two different credit cards," Min went
on, "and it took her two years to pay it off, but it's a great couch and she's never regretted it, and when
she had it reupholstered, the upholsterer said it would last forever."
"Great," Cal said, still looking down her sweater. She was breathing softly, just enough for the rise and
fall to—
"Hello," she said and he jerked his head up. "Not that I'm not flattered, but I'm making a point here.
Roger is Bonnie's new couch. She's always been sure that some day her prince would show up, and
she's done a lot of dating looking for him, and now she's taken one look at Roger and she's sure he's the
one, and she's going to buy him in about a minute. So if he isn't a good guy, I want to know now so I can
break it to her. Tell me he's not a rat."
"Roger took a year to buy a couch, too," Cal said, regrouping.
"What kind of couch?" Min said.
"Sort of a La-Z-Boy with a thyroid problem," Cal said. "I think it's brown."
Min nodded. "Bonnie bought a reproduction mission settle with cushions upholstered in a celadon
William Morris print."
"I think I know what 'mission' is," Cal said. "Everything else, you were speaking Chinese."
"Roger's couch is toast," Min said. "Will he mind?"
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"She can chop it into kindling in front of him and he won't blink," Cal said.
"Can he take care of her?" Min said. "She probably won't need it, but in a crunch—"
"He will throw his body in front of her if necessary. You have nothing to worry about with Roger. He's
the best guy I know. If I had a sister, I would let Roger marry her. It's Bonnie I'm worried about it. She's
got that efficient look that usually means she likes to boss people around. And since she's so little, there's
probably a Napoleon complex—"
"Nope," Min said. "She's solid. Roger's a lucky guy." She finished the last of her hot dog and then licked
a smear of ketchup off her thumb, and Cal lost his train of thought. "So they're okay and we don't have to
worry," she said when she'd wiped her hands on a napkin.
"Yep," Cal said. "How about dessert?"
"I don't eat dessert," Min said.
"Really?" Cal said. "What a surprise."
"Oh, bite me," Min said. "I told you there's this bridesmaid's dress—"
Cal pulled a waxed paper bag from the cooler. "Doughnuts," he said, but before he could go on, a
too-familiar piping voice came from behind him.
"Can I have one?"
He sighed and turned around to see his skinny, grubby, dark-haired nephew standing at the end of the
picnic table. "Shouldn't you be home by now?"
"They forgot again," Harry said, putting a lot of pathetic in his voice. It helped that he wore glasses and
was small for his age. He peered around Cal. "Hello," he said cautiously to Min.
"Min," Cal said, glaring at Harry. "This is my nephew, Harry Morrisey. He was just leaving. Harry, this is
Min Dobbs."
"Hi, Harry," Min said cheerfully. "You can have all the doughnuts."
Harry brightened.
"No, you can't." Cal took out his cell phone. "You'd just throw them up again."
"Maybe not." Harry sidled closer to the doughnut bag.
"You do remember the cupcake disaster, right?" Cal said as he punched in his sister-in-law's number.
"Can't he haveone ?" Min smiled at Harry as he drew closer, her face soft and kind, and Cal and Harry
both blinked at her for a moment because she was so pretty.
Then while Cal listened to the phone ring, Harry looked at Min's skirt and poked it with his finger.
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"Harry," Cal said, and Min pulled out one of her sandals.
"Here," she told Harry, and he poked at the flower.
"Those areshoes ," Harry said, as if he were observing an anomaly.
"Yep," Min said, watching him, her head tilted.
Harry poked the flower again. "That's not real."
"No," Min said. "It's just for fun."
Harry nodded as if this were a new idea, which, Cal realized, it probably was. Not a lot of floppy
flowers on red toes in Harry's world.
Min reached in the bag and handed him a doughnut.
"Thank you, Min," Harry said, still channeling abused orphans.
"Don't buy his act," Cal said to Min.
"I'm not." Min grinned at Harry. "You look like you're doing fine, kid."
"I had to play baseball," Harry said bitterly. "Are those hot dogs?"
"No," Cal said. "You know you're not allowed to have processed meat. Go over there on that bench
and eat your doughnut."
"He can eat it here," Min said, putting her arm around him protectively.
Harry, no dummy, leaned into Min's hip.
Bet that's soft,Cal thought, and then realized he was close to being jealous of his eight-year-old
nephew. "Harry," he said warningly, but then his sister-in-law answered her phone. "Bink? You forgot to
pick up your kid."
"Reynolds," Bink said in her perfectly modulated tones. "It was his turn."
"He's not here," Cal said.
Bink sighed. "Poor Harry. I'll be right there. Thank you, Cal."
"Anything for you, babe." Cal shut off his phone and looked over at Harry. "Your mother is coming.
Look on the bright side, you get a doughnut and your mother, instead of nothing and your father."
"Two doughnuts," Harry said.
"Harry, you barf," Cal said. "You can't have two doughnuts. Now go away. This is a date. Seven years
from now, you will understand what that means."
"This isn't a date," Min said. "He can stay."
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"Bonnie's over there on a park bench talking to Roger," Tony said to Liza. "She could care less."
"Couldn't care less," Liza said. "And she could." She fixed Min with a stare. "We've talked about this.
Get off that table."
Right, Min thought.I don't want to .
Across from her, Cal looked even more gorgeous than usual, enraged in the sunlight, but as her daze
lifted, she remembered why she wasn't supposed to be there. "Could I have my skirt back, please?" she
said, faintly, and he rolled back enough that she could pull the fabric free. "Thank you very much. For
lunch. I had a wonderful time."
"Stay," he said, and she looked into his eyes and thought,Ob, yes .
"No," Liza said and pulled Min off the table so that she stumbled onto the grass.
"She can make up her own mind," Cal said.
"Yeah?" Liza took a step closer to him. "Tell me you know her. Tell me you care about her. Tell me
you're going to love her until the end of time."
"Liza," Min said, tugging on her arm.
"I just met her three days ago," Cal said.
"Thenwhat are you doing kissing her like that ?" Liza turned her back on him. "Come on, Min."
"Thank you for lunch," Min said as Liza tightened her grip. She reached back for her sandals on the table
and caught the ribbons, and then Liza dragged her away through the trees.
When they were gone, Cal turned to Tony and said, "I can't decide whether to have you killed or do it
myself."
"Not me, Liza," Tony said. "And she did call Min's name and poke you in the side a couple of times
before she whacked you in the back of the head with her purse." His eyes went to the table. "Hey, hot
dogs." He sat on the table and reached for a sandwich.
"That woman is insane," Cal said, rubbing the back of his head. The heat was subsiding now that Min
was gone, but it wasn't making him any happier. "That was assault."
"She's insane?" Tony said, as he unwrapped a brat. "How about you?"
"It wasn't that big a deal."Ten minutes more and we would have been naked . Thatwould have been
a big deal .
"Tell that to Harry," Tony said. "That was probably more than he needed to know about what Uncle Cal
does with his free time."
"Harry?" Cal said and looked over to where Harry had been sitting. He was still there, only now there
was a thin blonde with him. Bink. Cal closed his eyes and the memory of Min's heat vanished. "Tell me
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Bink wasn't watching us, too."
"Don't know. She wasn't there when we got here so she may just have caught the big finish. What the
hell am I sitting on?" He pulled a red-flowered shoe out from under the blanket.
"Min's," Cal said, getting a nice flashback to her toes. "Give it to Liza when you get the chance. Down
her throat, if possible."
"Yeah, like I'll remember," Tony said and tossed it in the cooler.
Cal dug it out again before the ice could get the flower wet and tried to get his mind off Min. "It turns out
that Bonnie's a good deal, so Roger's okay." He turned Min's sandal around in his hand. It was a
ridiculous thing with a little stacked heel that probably sank into the ground when she walked across the
grass and that dopey flower that would get screwed up if she wore them in the rain, and that was a
turn-on, too.
"Roger's not okay," Tony said around a mouthful of brat. "He's going to get married."
"It's not death," Cal said, trying to imagine why anybody as practical as Min would wear a shoe like that.
But then Min clearly had an impractical streak or she wouldn't have frenched him on a picnic table. The
rush he got from that blanked out sound for a moment. "What?" he said.
"I said, yes, that's why you're running like a rabbit from Cynthie," Tony said.
"Well, marriage is not for me, but it's probably for Roger," Cal said, dropping the shoe on the table.
"He's never been big on excitement."
"True," Tony said. "And if Bonnie is a nice woman, maybe I'll live over their garage after all."
"More good news for me," Cal said, and thought of Min again, full and hot under his hands—No . He
didn't need any more hostility in his life. If he wanted great sex, he could always go back to Cynthie, who
at least was never bitchy. He tried to call up Cynthie's memory to blot out Min's, but she seemed gray
and white next to Min's lush, exasperating, heat-inducing, open-toed Technicolor.
"What?" Tony said.
"Are there any hot dogs left?" Cal said. "That you haven't sat on?"
Tony found one under a fold in the blanket and passed it over, and Cal unwrapped it and bit into it,
determined to concentrate on a sense that wasn't permeated with Min. Then he remembered her face
when she'd tasted the brat, and imagined her face like that with her body moving under his, hot and lush,
her lips wet—
Oh, hell, he thought.
"So what are you going to tell Harry?" Tony said.
"About what?"
"About you doing Min on a picnic table," Tony said. "You guys looked pretty hot."
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"I'm going to tell him I'll explain it when he's older," Cal said, and thought,We were hot. And now we're
done . "Much older," he said, and went back to the cooler for a beer.
"Okay,why did we have to leave?" Bonnie said when they were in Liza's convertible and Min was
banished to the backseat.
"Because Min was swapping tongues with a doughnut pusher." Liza looked back over the seat at Min
the sinner and shook her head.
Bonnie turned so she could see over the seat, too. "You ate doughnuts?"
"Yes," Min said, still trying to fight her way back from dazed. "Big deal."
Bonnie nodded as Liza started the car. "Was he a good kisser?"
"Yes," Min said. "Pretty good. Very good. World class. Phenomenal. Woke me right up. Plus there
were the doughnuts, which wereamazing." She thought about Cal again, all that heat and urgency, and
as Liza started down the curving drive to the street, Min lay down on the back seat before she fell over
from residual dizziness. It felt good to lie down but it was such a shame she was alone.
"Have you lost your mind?" Liza said, over the seat.
"Just for that minute or two," Min said from the seat, watching the treetops move by overhead "I kind of
enjoyed it." Alot .
"You know," Bonnie said to Liza, "he might be legit. He looked really happy with her. Roger even said
so."
"Oh. well if Roger says so," Liza said.
"Don't make fun of Roger," Bonnie said, warning in her voice.
"Okay," Min said, sitting up again as her world steadied. "I'm fine now. Very practical." She pick up her
shoe to untangle the ribbons. "So how was Tony?"
"Mildly amusing," Liza said. "Stop changing subject. What are you going to do about Cal?"
"Not see him again," Min said, looking for her second sandal. "Oh, for heaven's sake. I left a shoe
behind. We have to go back."
"No " Liza said and kept driving.
"They're my favorite shoes," Min said, trying to sound sincere.
"All your shoes are favorite shoes," Liza said, "We're not going back there."
"Are you okay, honey?" Bonnie said to Min.
"I'm great," Min said, nodding like a maniac. "Cal told me all about Roger. You have my blessing."
"Based on Calvin the Beast's say-so," Liza said.
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"I have ways of telling," Min said. "I know how to handle him."
"Yeah, I saw you handling him," Liza said. "You're weak."
"Oh, come on," Min said, guilt making her exasperated. "I heard the bet. I know what's going on. I'm not
seeing him again. Especially since you yelled at him and called him names." She thought about Cal leaning
close, how hard his chest had been against her hand, how hot his mouth had been on hers, how good his
hand had felt on her breast. "I found out how he gets all those women, though," she said brightly. "Turns
out it's not just his charm."
"Maybe you should see him again," Bonnie said, sounding thoughtful. "I think sometimes you just have to
believe."
That might be good, Min thought.
"Bonnie", Liza said. "Do you want her tO get mutilated by the same guy who broke your cousin's heart
and made that bet with David?"
That would be bad, Min thought.
"No," Bonnie said, doubt in her voice.
"Then no more pep talks about believing in toads," Liza said.
"Don't they turn into princes when you kiss them?" Bonnie said.
"That's frogs," Liza said. "Entirely different species."
"Right," Min said, trying to shove Cal out of her mind. "Toad not frog. Beast. Absolutely." Then she
sighed and said, "But he really had great doughnuts," and lay back down on the seat again to recover her
good sense.
David was settling down in front of the television on Sunday afternoon when the phone rang. He picked
it up and heard Cynthie's voice. "Cal and Min were in the park today," she said. "He kissed her.
That's joy, it's a physiological cue, that could push them into—"
"Wait," David said, and took a deep breath. It was that damn bet. Cal would do anything to win that
bet.
"He fed her doughnuts," Cynthie said. "He took her on a picnic and—"
"Min ate doughnuts?" David went cold at the thought. "Min doesn't eat doughnuts. Min doesn't eat
carbs. She never ate carbs with me."
"And every time he fed her a piece, he kissed her."
"Sonofabitch," David said, viciously. "What do we do?"
"We have to work on their attraction triggers, create joy, make them remember why they wantedus"
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Cynthie said. "Take her to lunch tomorrow. Make it perfect. Make her feel special and loved, give her
joy, andget her back ."
"I don't know," David said, remembering Min's face when he'd dumped her. The idea was for her to
come crawling back to him, not for him to go to her.
"I'll have lunch with Cal," Cynthie said as if he hadn't spoken. "I've been lying low, hoping he'd come
back on his own, but there's no time for that now. I'll have him in bed before dessert, and that should
finish the whole thing."
"Min's mad at me," David said. "I think it's too soon for a lunch."
"Oh, that's very aggressive." There was a long silence and then
Cynthie said, "Her family. Did you say she needs them to approve of her lovers?"
"Yes," David said. "Her mother was crazy about me."
"There you go," Cynthie said. "Call her mother and tell her the truth about Cal and women."
"No," David said, remembering Nanette's lack of focus on anything not involving calories or fashion.
"Her sister's fiance. Greg. I'll call him tonight."
"How will that help?"
"He'll tell Diana right away," David said. "He sees her every night. And she lives with her parents, so
she'll tell her mother and father. Her father is very protective."
"That's good," Cynthie said.
"He fed her doughnuts?" David said, wincing at the thought.
"One piece at a time," Cynthie said.
Bastard.He was doing it for that damn bet. After all that big talk about being cheap but not slimy, he
was going to seduce Min with doughnuts and then come back to collect his ten thousand bucks. The
great Calvin Morrisey wins again.
Not if I have anything to do about it.
"David?" Cynthie said.
"Trust me," David said, grimly. "Min just ate her last doughnut."
On Monday, Roger came in late to work.Bonnie , Cal thought, which made him think of Min, which
was ridiculous.
"What is this?" Tony said. "I'm the last one in to work. It's tradition."
"Bonnie." Roger yawned as he sat down at his desk. "We talked pretty late last night."
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"Talked," Tony said, sitting on the edge of the work table. "The least you could do is get laid."
Roger narrowed his eyes.
"Okay, now that we're all here—" Cal said.
"I'm going to marry Bonnie," Roger told Tony. "You don't talk like that about the woman you marry."
"Sorry," Tony said. "I'm never getting married so I wouldn't know."
"—we need to block out the Winston seminar—"
"You'll know when you find the right woman," Roger said.
"No such animal," Tony said.
"—and getthe packets done ." Cal said, raising his voice.
"She has a perfect kiss," Roger said, looking out the window, probably in what he thought was Bonnie's
direction. "Did you ever kiss like that, where everything was exactly right and it just blew the top of your
head off?"
"No," Tony said, looking revolted.
"Yes," Cal said, Min coming back to him in all her hot and yielding glory. They both turned to look at
him, and he said, "Can we go to work now? Because we're about a minute away from breaking out the
ice cream and talking about our feelings, and I don't think we can come back from that."
"I'll get on the invoices," Roger said and went to his desk.
Cal leaned back in his desk chair, opened a computer file, and thought about Min. He'd had no
intentions of kissing her and then he'd jumped her, some insane impulse shoving him into her lap. And
she'd been no help. She should have slapped him silly and instead there she was, saying "More," egging
him on—
The phone rang and Tony picked it up. "Morrisey, Packard, Capa," he said and then rolled his eyes at
Cal. "Hey, Cynthie."
Cal shook his head.
"He's not here," Tony said. "I think he's gone for the morning." He scowled at Cal, who sighed and
leaned back in his chair to look at the ceiling.
"Lunch?" Tony said. "Sorry, he's got a lunch date. At Emilio's. With his new girlfriend."
Cal sat up so fast his feet that hit the floor hard.No , he mouthed at Tony and made a slicing motion
across his throat with his hand.
"So you don't have to worry about him being depressed over losing you," Tony said. "He got right back
on the horse."
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Cal stood up, rage in his eyes, and Tony said. "Gotta go," and hung up.
"Are you insane?" Cal said.
"Hey, it got rid of her, didn't it?" Tony said. "I did you a favor." He frowned. "I think. The whole thing
sort of came to me in a flash." He looked at Roger. "Was that a bad move?"
"I'm not sure," Roger said. "You might want to stay away from flashes in the future."
"I don't want to see Min again," Cal said, and thought about seeing Min again.
"So? Cynthie doesn't need to know that," Tony said.
"So now I have to take Min to Emilio's because Cynthie will check," Cal said.
"I don't see why," Roger said. "If Cynthie asks, you can say you went someplace else."
"I try to tell as few lies as possible." Cal sat down again, trying to feel exasperated about the whole
mess. He picked up the phone and dialed Min's company, tracking her down through the switchboard
operator, but her phone was busy and voice mail was not an option. Nobody ever talked anybody into
lunch on voice mail.
He hung up the phone and saw Roger and Tony watching him. "What?"
"Nothing," Roger said.
"Nothing," Tony said.
"Good," Cal said and ignored them to go back to his computer screen.
When her office phone rang, Min thoughtCal , and then kicked herself. The beast must have the power
to cloud women's minds if she was thinking about him at 9 a.m. on a Monday morning in the middle of a
prelim report.
"Minerva Dobbs," she said into the phone, tapping her red pen on the frosted glass top of her desk.
"Tell me about this man you're dating," her mother said.
"Oh, for crying out loud." Min leaned back in her Aeron chair, exasperated.
"Greg says he has a horrible reputation with women," Nanette said. "Greg says he uses them and leaves
them. Greg says—"
"Mother, I don't care what Greg says," Min said over her mother's panic. "And I'm not dating him. We
went to dinner and had a picnic in the park and that's it." She wrote Cal's name in block letters on the
cover sheet of her report and then drew a heavy red line through it. Gone, gone, gone.
"Greg says—"
"Mother."
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"—that he's a heartbreaker. He's worried for you."
Min started to say,Oh, please , and stopped. Greg probably was worried about her. Greg worried
about everything.
Why was Greg worried about her?
"How does Greg even know this guy exists?" Min said as she wrote "Greg" in red block letters and drew
two heavy lines through it. Then she wrote "Dweeb" below that and "Snitch" below that.
"I'mworried for you," her mother was saying. "I know you're being brave about losing David, but I just
hate it. I can't stand it if you're hurt."
Min felt her throat close. "Who are you and what did you do with my mother?"
"I just don't want you hurt," Nanette said, and Min thought she heard her voice shake. "I want you
married to a good man who will appreciate you for how wonderful you are and not leave you because
you're overweight."
Min shook her head. "You had me right up to the last line." She wrote "Mother" in block letters, drew a
heart around it, and then, while Nanette talked on, she drew four heavy lines across it.
"Marriage is hard, Min," Nanette was saying. "There are a million reasons for them to cheat and leave,
so you have to work at it all the time. You have to look good all the time. Men are very visual. If they see
something better—"
"Mom?" Min said. "I don't think—"
"No matter how hard you work, there's always somebody younger, somebody better," Nanette said, her
voice trembling. "Even for Diana, for everybody. You can't start with a handicap, you can't—"
"What's going on?" Min said. "Is Greg cheating on Diana?"
"No," her mother said, sounding taken aback. "Of course not."
Min tried to imagine Greg betraying Diana, but it was ridiculous. Greg didn't have the gumption to cheat.
Plus, he loved Diana.
"Why would you say that?" her mother said. "That's a horrible thing to say."
"You were the one who brought up cheating," Min said. So if not Greg, then who?Dad? Min rejected
that thought, too. Her father had three interests in life: insurance, statistics, and golf. "The only thing Dad
would leave you for is the perfect four iron, so that's not it. What's going on?"
"I want you married and happy and this Cabot isn't—"
"Calvin," Min said.
"Bring him to dinner Saturday," Nanette said. "Wear something black so you'll look thinner."
"I'm not seeing him, Mother," Min said. "That's going to make it doubtful that he'll want to meet my
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parents."
"Just be careful," her mother said. "I don't know how you find these men."
"He looked down my sweater and saw that red lace bra," Min said. "It's all your fault."
She spent a few more minutes reassuring Nanette, and then she hung up and went back to editing for
another five minutes until the phone rang again. "Oh, great," she said and answered it, prepared to argue
with her mother again. "Minerva Dobbs."
"Min, it's Di," her sister said.
"Hi, honey," Min said. "If this is about Greg ratting out my picnic date, it's okay, it's over, I'm never going
to see him again." She drew another line through Greg's name. As far as she was concerned, there
couldn't be too many lines through Greg's name.
"Greg says David says he's awful," Diana said.
Min sat up a little straighten "David said that, did he?" The rat fink didn't even play fair on his bets. She
wrote "David" in big block letters and then stabbed her pen into it.
"He told Greg not to tell me he'd told him," Diana said.
"Right," Min said, not bothering to follow that.
"He just doesn't sound like part of your plan," Di said.
Min stopped stabbing. "My plan? What plan?"
"You always have a plan," Di said. "Like me. I've planned my wedding and my marriage very carefully
and Greg fits perfectly. He's perfect for me. We're going to have a perfect life."
"Right," Min said, and drew another line through Greg's name.
"So I know you must have a plan and this wolf—"
"Beast," Min said.
"—frog, whatever, can't fit your plan."
"He's not a frog," Min said. "I kissed him and he did not turn into a prince."He turned into a god. No,
he didn't . "Look, I'm never going to see him again, so everybody can relax."
"Good," Di said. "I'll tell Mom you're being sensible as usual and she won't worry anymore."
"Oh, good," Min said. "Sensible as usual. Nobody mentioned this to Dad, did they?"
"Mom might have," Diana said.
"Oh, hell, Di, why didn't you stop her?" A vision of her overprotec-tive father rose up before her like a
big blond bear. "You know how he is."
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