The Big Bad Wolf Tells All

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The Big Bad Wolf Tells All Page 17

by Donna Kauffman


  Feeling better—and less like a louse for suspecting, even for a heartbeat, her friend and mentor—she turned back to her computer. Her phone rang, and she froze, then shook herself. It’s not like SoulM8 was going to call her. He hadn’t so much as emailed since the night of the dance. Maybe he’d given up. Moved on. She should be so lucky. She checked her Caller ID anyway, then clicked the receiver on. “Hey, stranger. It’s about time you returned my call.”

  “I know,” Sloan said, sounding harried. “It’s been crazy around here with the show coming up. I’m going to need a holiday after the holidays.”

  “I don’t want to wait that long. Can we squeeze in a lunch? A drink, even? We need a break from the insanity. Rina and Sue are planning this shower like they’re on a mission from God. Or Martha Stewart. Which might be redundant. And Mariel is filling a photo album with images of her child’s penis. You’re all I’ve got left.” And I’m worried about you, she wanted to add, but left it unsaid. Tanzy was the group shoulder, but Sloan rarely took advantage of her time-share portion of it.

  “I’d love to,” Sloan said, sounding sincere. “But as it is, I’m going to have to do my best to be there for the baby shower.”

  Tanzy chewed on her lip, then decided this phone call might be her only shot. “So, uh, how are things? With you and Wolfgang, I mean. Still okay?”

  There was a pause, then Sloan said, “We’re fine. Doing fine.”

  It was dismissive to the point of being hurtful. And, messy marital tension be damned, Tanzy called her on it. “I thought we were closer than that.”

  Another pause, then, “We are. I just . . . it’s not a good time to talk right now, okay?”

  At least she hadn’t pretended she wasn’t dodging. “Okay. But I’m here, anytime. Have you talked to Rina or Sue?” Maybe they’d gotten more out of her.

  “And get the full lecture on my lack of commitment to my social life and blah blah blah? No thanks.”

  “Gee, I guess I should be honored you returned my call.”

  Sloan laughed dryly. “Yes, well, you always know when to back off.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  “Listen, I have to run, but you can tell the gang that I’m officially RSVPing the shower invite. But you’re coming to opening night, right?”

  Sloan was showcasing a new artist, hoping her gallery patrons’ preholiday shopping sprees would extend themselves to include buying artwork. And if anyone could get people to pay attention to art only days before Christmas, it was Sloan.

  “I’ll—uh, do my best.” Tanzy hated to admit she’d planned to curtail attendance at all public functions until this SoulM8 thing was wrapped up, even to herself.

  “Why don’t you bring along that guy you dragged to that charity thing?”

  “You said you hadn’t talked to Rina or Sue.”

  “I haven’t. Rina emails me daily. She swears if it weren’t for her updates, I’d have long since lost touch with reality.”

  Tanzy wondered if Rina had mentioned the note, then decided she hadn’t, or Sloan would have contacted her sooner. Busy or not, she was still a friend. Rina had probably decided, correctly, that Sloan had enough on her shoulders. “Yes, I know. I rely on her extensively for shoe sale information.”

  “So, you’ll bring him?”

  “I’ll do my best to get there. I’m not committing to anything else,” she said, then quickly changed the subject. “Will Wolfgang be attending?” She knew Wolf could be a bit sulky when Sloan introduced new talent. She supposed it was an artist thing. But that constant need for reassurance would drive her crazy. Apparently it had driven Sloan into the arms of another man.

  “I’m not sure.” She laughed without humor. “I’m not sure I care.”

  “Uh-oh. You want to talk about it?”

  Sloan sighed, obviously wishing she hadn’t slipped. “Don’t read too much into that. You know how he can be. I meant what I said earlier, Tanz. Wolf and I are moving along. It’s just . . . it’s complicated.”

  “Meaning us single gals wouldn’t understand?”

  “Partly.”

  Tanzy winced, but she’d asked for it. “Okay, then talk to Rina, or Sue.”

  “No thank you. I don’t need that lecture, either.”

  “Rina can hardly lecture you about marriage, but she’d listen. And Sue is as levelheaded as they get.”

  “Sunny Sue and Perfect Paul?” Sloan snorted. “Right. No thanks. And don’t even suggest Mariel. Newlywed wisdom I can do without.”

  Tanzy laughed. “Then I guess you’re stuck with unenlightened me. Sure you can’t spare time for a drink? You know you won’t have time to do more than wave at the opening, if that. I promise to be nonjudgmental.”

  “Can I get that in writing? Listen, I promise, once we get past the holidays and things die down a little, we’ll get together.”

  “Face-to-face. So I can make you spill your guts. I have my vays, you know.”

  “Why do you think I phoned this in? But if I’m the one getting grilled, we’re having more than drinks. I pick the place, you pay the tab.”

  “Sounds fair.”

  “Great. One thing checked off my guilt list.” Then just when Tanzy thought she was going to ring off, she blurted, “Thanks, Tanzy, for . . . just thanks. It is complicated, but I’m glad you called. In the meantime, don’t worry. Things are . . . good. For me. Okay? And when you report in to Rina right after hanging up, tell her to tell the rest of the gang to stop worrying, too. I’m going to be fine.” Then her voice warmed up and Tanzy’s interest shifted from concern to out-and-out curiosity. “Really fine,” she finished. “Gotta run.”

  The dial tone hummed in her ear before Tanzy had a chance to ask if the reason Sloan felt “really fine” had anything to do with a certain blond Adonis. She was sorely tempted to call her right back and demand details. Or march down to the gallery. Oh, the torture! But that’s what she got for tangling with Sloan during business hours. Of course, all of Sloan’s hours were business hours, it seemed.

  And she should have been insulted by the crack about reporting in to Rina, except that was exactly what she was going to do. She clicked her speed dial. She didn’t even announce herself when Rina picked up. “I talked to Sloan. I think you were right.”

  “About the affair?”

  “Yeah. She sounded exhausted. I think it’s more than the usual work-related stress. When I asked her about Wolfgang, she got all evasive. But then she ended by making a point of saying things were going fine for her personally. Really fine,” she added, putting the same intensity on the words Sloan had.

  “Fine for her . . . but I’m guessing not for Wolf?”

  Tanzy snorted. “I’m guessing whatever this is about, he probably deserves it. She definitely sounded like a woman getting laid on a regular basis. And we both know Wolf’s too caught up in his art for that. For that matter, Sloan isn’t home often enough anyway.”

  “Aren’t hotel rooms convenient that way?” Rina stated with a sardonic little laugh. “And speaking of being home, how’s that going? Is Riley still dogging your every step?”

  Tanzy leaned forward and flicked the blinds apart, looking down two stories to where Riley’s midnight blue SUV sat parked across the street. With Riley in it.

  Watching her.

  She smiled and waved. He didn’t wave back. It was too hard to tell with all that tinted glass, but she’d bet he wasn’t smiling, either. “Yep.”

  “You said you were only paying for him to investigate this thing.”

  “I am. Millicent apparently has other ideas. I knew things were too easy when she relented on my taking over paying his tab without a fight.”

  “It’s been what, three days now? And you’re still making him sit out there in that car?”

  “It’s an SUV, massive, almost mobile-home-size. Leather interior. All the bells and whistles.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “He’s not the only one with telephoto capabilities
.”

  Rina just laughed. “You two are a pair. For all your professed nonchalance, when you found out who he really was, I’d have bet you’d have him between the sheets a heartbeat later.”

  Tanzy had thought about that. A lot. “You know, I’m really getting tired of this man-eater rap. I know my column rep gets a little out there, but you guys should know better.”

  Rina stayed tellingly silent.

  “Geez. Harsh. I seem to recall you being the one doing the yacht circuit for the past several years.”

  “Just until I hooked the big one,” Rina said with a cheeky laugh. “And I seem to recall a raft of jet set jokes from you, missy. But trust me, for most of that time it was more business than pleasure.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Tanzy snorted. “But it’s not like I have a boy toy of the week, either.”

  “You could, however, put out an annual calendar.”

  Tanzy paused, did a mental count, then sighed disgustedly. “Okay. But really, that’s basically saying I only get laid twelve times in an entire year. When you look at it that way, it’s almost pathetic. Am I right?”

  “You’re counting weekend marathon sex as one time, then?”

  “Ha, ha, very funny. We wish there was such a thing as marathon sex. I’m convinced it’s an urban myth.”

  “Quantity versus quality aside, you know I love you—”

  Tanzy groaned. “But, I hear a distinct but. Resist the urge, Rina. I’m begging you.” But she knew resistance was futile where this particular lecture was concerned, and resigned herself to hearing it. Again.

  “But,” Rina stated, undaunted as predicted, “as your closest friend, I feel honor bound to point out that you’ll never find Mr. Forever if you keep recycling Mr. Right Now after one use. You don’t even get to know a guy.”

  “I know what I need to know,” Tanzy grumbled. “Besides, I’m not interested in Mr. Forever.” She realized she’d flicked open the blinds, was staring down at Riley. “I’m perfectly happy with Mr. Saturday Night. Or Mr. Monday Afternoon.” She grinned at Rina’s snort of disgust. “I may be shallow, but at least I’m flexible.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Rina said with a sly laugh.

  “Oh, har har har. But, since you pointed it out, you’d be right about that, too,” she said smugly. “So put that in your yacht and sail it.”

  “And you call yourself a writer? With lines like that? But if you think to distract me with your oh-so-clever wit, you’re wrong.”

  “What is up with the sudden need to see me shackled?” Again Tanzy flicked open the blinds. Again she realized she was staring at Riley, and flicked them shut. “I have simple needs. My most complex problem is whether to buy the shoes now or wait for a sale so I won’t feel so guilty for spending that much money on heels I’ll likely wear only a handful of times. And that’s the way I like it. I don’t want to get married. Men are great, but they’re hell on a girl’s shoe budget.”

  “Well, I can see why marriage is out of the question,” Rina responded dryly. “But you shouldn’t be too worried. For that to happen you’d actually have to have a relationship with someone.” Tanzy opened her mouth to respond, but Rina plowed ahead. “I’m not even advocating marriage. I’m just suggesting you might consider wading into an actual relationship. And here’s a novel concept—you might consider getting to know him before you get between the sheets. Or on the living room floor, as the case may be.”

  “See, and I view that as a total waste of time wherein I could be indulging in serious foreplay. The guys I date would agree with that view. At least, I get no arguments from them, at any rate.”

  “Exactly. You don’t even know them well enough to have an argument.”

  “Exactly my point. Who wants to waste time arguing when there are climaxes waiting to be reached?”

  “Yeah, I guess if you knew him well enough to disagree about more than what kind of chocolate sauce is best for food sex, then that would mean you might, God forbid, have developed actual feelings for the man. And—oh no!—that would ruin everything. Next thing you know, he might want to use the L word, and that makes dumping him a hell of lot messier, doesn’t it?”

  Tanzy sat back in her chair with a thump. “Ouch?”

  Rina let out a breath. “I’m sorry, that was a little over the top, even for me. But I know you. Better than anyone. At some point you’re going to wish you’d let someone into your head, maybe even your heart, instead of just into your—”

  “I get it already,” Tanzy interrupted.

  “Yeah, well, maybe you’ve gotten so good at getting it without giving anything of your real self, you don’t even know how to anymore.”

  Tanzy found her gaze skating to the window again. Scowling, she promptly spun her chair so she faced her office door. Then she did what she always did when confronted with her own faults. She went on offense. “You’re one to talk. Where did letting people in get you besides divorced?”

  “Okay. I deserved that, I suppose. And I know you think I married Garrison for the money and that rubs you the wrong way. Which is hilarious coming from the alpha wolf of our little pack. I would have thought you of all people would approve of taking what you need and damn the rest.”

  “Jesus, Rina, do you really think so little of me?” She wasn’t sure she wanted an answer to that, so she kept on talking. “I don’t hurt people, or treat them callously. Everyone knows up front what’s what. And do you really think I think so little of you? I don’t.”

  “But you don’t approve,” Rina said, then let out a little laugh. “You think people should only get married if they’re in love. Who’d have thought you’d be the closet romantic of the bunch, huh? If the world only knew. But just because I bombed out on finding my soul mate doesn’t mean you shouldn’t even try. I still believe in marrying for love, just as much as you do.”

  “Except you keep conveniently forgetting I don’t plan on actually doing it. For love or money. You know my reasons. It’s not in my genes to dream of white picket fences.”

  “And you’re old enough to stop hiding behind the choices made by your mom and the sperm donor. You’re smart enough to know you can make your own choices when it comes to love and marriage. And men, for that matter.”

  “I do make my own choices about men. I choose to enjoy them and leave the messy relationship part to someone else to deal with. Besides, Millicent never got married. She seems perfectly happy to me. Maybe she’s my role model.”

  “Okay, fine, I give up. And you’re right. I’m not one to talk, with two exes to my credit. Except to say that I’m happy now. Happier than I’ve ever been, in fact. You think I settled. I think I gave up expecting the impossible, only to end up miserable when all my expectations weren’t met. Garrison and I might not burn up the sheets, but I do care deeply for him. Him, not his bank account. He loves me, Tanz. More important, he’s nice to me. Respects me. And he makes me laugh. Like I said before, there’s more to life and love than sex. I’m still learning just how much more. Everyone’s needs are different. Believe it or not, Garrison fulfills more of mine than I ever thought possible.” Her voice softened. “I just wish you’d think about letting someone fulfill yours for more than a few hours at a time.”

  For the second time in one morning, Tanzy was left listening to a dial tone. She sat there for long moments, Rina’s words echoing through her mind, growing more uncomfortable by the second. Introspection was fine when it was indulged in for the entertainment of her readers. It sucked when it was purely for her own personal enlightenment.

  Frowning, she abruptly spun her chair back around to face her desk. “What does she know anyway?” she demanded of the row of sheep. They stared silently back at her, looking more accusing than amusing. “Oh, sure, easy for you to be judgmental. You’re sheep.” She turned to face her blinking cursor. She hated to admit it, but maybe Rina had a better handle on all this than she did. Or ever hoped to, if you listened to her tell it.

  She blew out a long breath,
then resolutely shoved the whole thing from her mind. She leaned forward in her chair, placed her fingers on the keys. Work. She had a column to write.

  Not much of an escape at the moment, is it?

  She could confront her feelings, think deep thoughts. If she had to. It’s what she did. And she was good at it. But she really didn’t want to think about the tangled love lives of her friends, much less her own family. It had been almost three years since she’d last heard from her mother. A brief birthday call placed from some yacht in the Greek Isles. There had been so much noise and raucous laughter in the background, Tanzy had barely been able to hear her. She had heard the invitation, though. Contact might be few and far between, but Penelope always assuaged whatever guilty-mother pangs she might be feeling by asking her only daughter to come and join her.

  Tanzy had made the mistake of saying yes precisely one time. It had been just after her twenty-second birthday and, freshly delivered college degree in hand, she thought it was time to conquer that other bastion of antiquated ideals. Her relationship—if you could call it that—with her mother.

  She’d lasted forty-eight hours. As it turned out, and it shouldn’t have been a great surprise, her mother wanted a girlfriend, a playmate. Not a daughter. When Tanzy had refused to call her by her first name, thereby spoiling her youthful fantasy, Penelope had pouted and said some rather nasty things. It was when she’d tried to make it up to Tanzy by introducing her daughter to her latest lover, then blithely offered him to her when she was through with him, that Tanzy had booked a flight home.

  She sighed and propped her chin on her hands. Was that what she was destined to become? Had she really avoided being around her mother because somewhere deep down inside she was afraid she was looking at her own future? No, she’d never be so desperate, would she? She’d certainly never start banking her self-worth on whether there was a man in her life. Young or otherwise.

 

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