Drop Dead Gorgeous

by Jennifer Skully

  Another glass and the bubbles would be coming out her ears. “No, thank you, I have to drive.”

  “I can drive you.”

  “But I’ve got my car.”

  “I know. But your car was vandalized. It’s such a dangerous place out there. I worry about you.”

  Oh, how sweet he was. “I’m just fine. I’ve got three big brothers to look after me. Not to mention T. Larry.”

  The twinkle in his eye winked out. She had been talking too much about T. Larry. “Enough about my car and my boss and stuff.”

  Richard hadn’t let go of her hand. Oh, he was so wonderfully earnest.

  He leaned forward. “Did you like the dinner?”

  “I’m dazzled.”

  “I wanted to dazzle you.”

  She strained closer. “I’ve never had a more romantic picnic.”

  “Madison, may I kiss you?”

  Such a gentleman. But she had the feeling their dialogue sounded like something out of a badly written Victorian novel. So what. “Yes, Richard, I’d love for you to kiss me.”

  His mouth descended. Soft lips, white chocolate mousse and champagne sizzle. But no bells. Her hands pushed awkwardly against the blanket for balance. She couldn’t touch him. He didn’t open his mouth. But that could have been out of respect for her, for their first kiss.

  He pulled back. “Oh, Madison.”

  “Oh, Richard.” Very bad dialogue. Maybe she’d wanted the fantasy to come true so badly, she was rushing things.

  But Richard’s kiss paled in comparison to T. Larry’s.

  Maybe she wasn’t rushing things enough.

  Madison rose to her knees, threw her arms around Richard’s neck and attacked, parting her lips. He groaned. She gave him her tongue. Grabbing her around the waist, he crushed her to him. His body warmed her thighs and breasts, his mouth turned hot, and his hair fell like silk through her fingers.

  A small child giggled nearby. Madison stopped to catch her breath and open her eyes. The young mother tugged on her little girl’s hand. Madison pulled away from Richard, then leaned to the side, supporting herself with her hand.

  “Madison.”

  “Richard.” She’d mussed his hair. His lips were wet. A glaze clouded his eyes. But she still hadn’t heard bells. “I’m sorry, that was forward.” She spread a hand, cocked her head. “But I’m always forward.”

  “Don’t apologize. You’re charming.”

  And disappointed. Like champagne gone flat. Where were the bells? She looked at her watch. “It’s late. I have to go.”

  She helped Richard pack up the food, then ran to the trash can to throw out the garbage. Maybe it was the unexpectedness of T. Larry’s kiss that had made the difference. She’d prepared too much for Richard, built him up in her mind. How could reality compare? Whereas with T. Larry, just the surprise had made it exciting. That’s all it was. She needed more time with Richard. The bells would come.

  Richard closed the lid on the wicker basket he’d brought, his rich brown hair falling across his forehead. Goodness, he was handsome. The bells deserved another chance. She plopped down on the blanket beside him.

  “Can I see you tomorrow night, Madison?”

  Well, he must have liked the kiss. “I’ll be with T. Larry tomorrow. How about Wednesday?” Her social calendar had never been so full.

  “He’s making you work tomorrow night?” He raised his eyebrows, and his smile faded.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. She couldn’t lie now that she had. Now just wasn’t the right time for one of those little white lies. “It’s not really work. It’s more like an outing.”

  “A work outing? With everyone from the office?”

  Goodness, this was getting difficult. “Not exactly.”

  “What do you mean not exactly?”

  His voice had grown sharp. She tried to put herself in his shoes and decided to tell the absolute truth. “I made a deal with him so he wouldn’t follow us to the park tonight.”

  Richard scowled until his eyebrows became one long line. “Maybe you ought to explain this deal.”

  She pulled her purse closer to her leg for comfort. “He gave me tonight with you in exchange for tomorrow night with him.”

  “I thought you weren’t dating him.”

  “I’m not. It’s an outing.”

  “Where are you going with him?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a surprise.” She barely managed to keep excitement out of her voice.

  “That sounds like a date.”

  “But it’s T. Larry. He’s just flexing his muscles. He’s like one of my brothers. Overprotective and—”

  “I don’t like it.”

  She wasn’t sure she liked his tone. “Are you jealous?”

  He dropped his gaze, plucking at the filmy folds of her skirt where they’d swirled around her legs. “I guess I am. I’m not usually like this.” His eyes were puppy-dog soft when he looked at her again. “I don’t think I know how to compete with the guy.”

  Goodness. Her legs felt all weak, and her heart melted. This was so romantic. “I can’t explain about T. Larry. He’s just…” She looked off into the leaves sparkling in the sun’s final rays. “He’s just been there forever. Like a big brother.” Except for the kiss part. “But you don’t have to worry about competing.” She looked Richard square in the eye then. “I’m not like that. I don’t play guys against each other. That’s not me.”

  He took her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Good. Then it’s settled. You have nothing to worry about. Wednesday I’m all yours.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “And thank you for the best picnic I’ve ever had.”

  He beamed.

  She decided against another kiss. She’d save it for the next date. Something to look forward to. Something to make the bells ring.

  Something that would outshine T. Larry’s kiss.

  THE PHONE RANG a third time in the last half hour. Not another hang up, Madison hoped. It was late, she was tired, and at this rate, she’d sleep through her alarm and be late for work. T. Larry hated tardiness. She gotten the first call when T. Larry was there on Saturday. Then another last night. And all the caller did was breathe. At least he could have uttered a few obscene remarks to make her feel special.

  She picked up before the machine did. “Are you going to say something this time?”

  “I’ll say whatever you want me to say.”

  “T. Larry.” Her voice squeaked.

  “How was your date?”

  She usually had just the right comeback to whatever T. Larry said. Now all she could manage was an ineffectual chirrup. “My date was fine, thanks.” Dull answer, very dull. She pulled the covers to her chin as if she were hiding.

  “Did you kiss him?”

  Her baby doll pajamas, short, and soft against her skin, sexy in an odd sort of way, made her think of T. Larry, not Richard.

  “A girl doesn’t kiss and tell.” There, that was better, a little mysterious. Maybe even a little flirtatious.

  T. Larry growled with that faintly erotic, extremely intimate note he’d used with her Friday night. “Then you did kiss him.”

  A car honked down the street. The neon sign for the hair salon across the way cast a pink-and-blue glow across her ceiling as she lay in the dark. A gentle, familiar yet exotic dark with T. Larry on the other end of the line. Since she didn’t know his game, Madison decided to play one of her own. “Yes, I did. And it was wonderful.”

  “Liar.”

  “It was stupendous.”

  “Tease.”

  Yes, and she liked teasing him. She was a hypocrite, of course, because she’d told Richard she didn’t play guys against each other. She’d never done it before. But there was something about the darkness, and T. Larry’s voice on the phone that made her want to push him. “It was hot.”

  He sucked in a breath. “How hot?”

  “Sizzling.” She wondered if this could
be considered phone sex, then set the line on fire. “I used my tongue.”

  Silence dropped like a bang in the middle of the room. Then he said, “Let me come over.”

  “T. Larry,” she squeaked again. “It’s just a joke. We’re playing a game.” She didn’t even want to think about why he wanted to come over.

  He breathed with a hint of acceleration. “A game. You’re right.” He paused as if he expected her to say something, then went on. “I called—”

  “To make sure I didn’t become serial killer Richard’s next victim.” In his own way, T. Larry was as sweet as Richard. Which is why she wouldn’t tell him about those breather calls. He’d worry. Then she might start worrying. And really, they meant nothing at all, especially after today’s visit from Harry Dump. Now she knew that interview was much more important than any silly phone breather, especially since that’s all he’d done, breathe.

  “Actually, I called to tell you what to wear tomorrow night.”

  “What to wear?” Her fingers flirted with the hem of her baby dolls.

  “Since where I’m taking you is a surprise, I thought you’d at least want some idea of what to wear so you won’t feel out of place.”

  “Oh.” It wasn’t like T. Larry to be so thoughtful.

  “Remember that dress you wore to last year’s company picnic?”

  She remembered his glower. “Yes.”

  “Wear that one.”

  “You said I couldn’t wear that to work anymore after Bill got distracted and missed a nineteen-thousand-dollar deduction.”

  “Bring it with you, and change before we leave.”

  It seemed highly inappropriate. And suspect. “What are you planning, T. Larry? I don’t think I trust you.”

  He sighed, almost groaned. “Just bring that dress.”

  Whatever. He was acting so oddly. “Sure.”

  “And next time, call me as soon as you get home so I know you’re safe.”

  The phone clicked in her ear. She hugged the gadget to her chest. She hadn’t even asked him about Harriet, about how he was feeling, how she could help. She felt so odd, her heart thrumming, a strange little tingle all over.

  Boy. Richard’s champagne must have affected her more than she thought. A lot more.

  SITTING ON HER COUCH, a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, Harriet wasn’t just sick anymore. She wanted to die. Her mother always said she acted before she thought. Well, this one was a doozy. She didn’t know how to undo it. She couldn’t crawl to T. Larry and say it had all been a mistake. She couldn’t admit she was jealous because no one laughed at Madison’s short skirts, yet harangued Harriet for her new dress. Oh, but it was so much more than skirt length. Harriet hated, just hated being one of Madison’s pet projects. She couldn’t, without sounding whiny and pathetic, explain to T. Larry how much she loathed Madison’s be-nice-to-Harriet moments, as if Harriet was a charity case. She couldn’t even ask Harry Dump for her retainer back. That would be even more humiliating than what she’d already done to herself.

  Okay, so the morning with Harry had been cathartic. She’d raged about Madison. She’d cried about Zachary. She’d hurled the blame at T. Larry. She’d felt wonderful. Liberated. Vindicated.

  Until Harry called to say he’d talked to T. Larry, and she realized everyone, absolutely everyone would know Zachary had porked her—porked as in poked a pig—then dumped her.

  Harriet wiped the tears from her cheeks, blew her nose and fed Errol another kitty treat.

  She was so stupid. Harry had said T. Larry would keep it all “strictly confidential,” but by the end of the day, they’d all know. Carp, Alta and Hobbs had info leaks like a flat roof had holes. Just when you plugged one, another popped through.

  She snuggled deeper into the soft couch cushions, deeper into her fuzzy blue comfort pajamas. Errol purred against her side. Harriet sniffled. She was pathetic and whiny, and she hated it.

  She could just hear Mike, Anthony and Bill.

  Hey, Zach, was it like fucking a water buffalo?

  How did you even find the right hole?

  You didn’t let her get on top, did you? Must not have, since your spine isn’t crushed.

  So unfair. The sniffle became a full-fledged sob. She had no one to blame but herself. She was the one who spilled the beans. And for what? Ten minutes of purging her emotions. Money, if she was lucky. Degradation, for sure.

  If Zachary had really wanted her that night, she’d totally blown it now. He’d never want her again. Not after she’d dragged him down into the muck with her.

  The doorbell chimed. Too late for neighbors, or salesmen or…Zachary?

  She scrambled to her feet. Errol protested with a few choice cat murmurs. She looked like crap. Her hair was ratty, her makeup had smeared beneath her eyes, and oh God, she was sure there was a small hole in the crotch of her pajamas.

  The bell rang again. She could pretend she wasn’t home. Or she was asleep in bed. He’d give up. Then again, she ought to make sure it was really him.

  His face was longer and thinner through the peephole. She whirled, flattened her back to the door and hyperventilated.

  Another peal. She wouldn’t panic. She’d act calm, cool and totally in control.

  After one more deep breath, she flung the door wide, her cheeks all hot and her upper lip sweaty. “Zachary.” She stopped, swallowed. “What a surprise.”

  He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. His skin shone with a fresh shave and a dash of spicy cologne. He looked so dear in a pink polo shirt and rumpled khaki pants. Some men couldn’t get away with pink. Zachary looked gorgeous in it. Her eyes smarted. Why did she have to want a thin man?

  Zachary started again. “Can I talk to you, Harriet?” From his fingers dangled a flowered bag stuffed with brightly colored tissue paper.

  He’d brought her a present. “All right.”

  Once inside he shuffled nervously to the couch, set the bag on the coffee table, then hiked his pant legs at the knee as he sat. Gulping air, he started talking so fast his words tripped over each other. “I’m sorry, Harriet. I never meant any of this to happen. I didn’t want to hurt you. I care about you. Please can we move past this incident and get back to normal?”

  It sounded rehearsed, as if he’d stood in front of the mirror speaking in different inflections to view the various effects. Harriet remained standing.

  “You don’t have to say anything, Harriet. I know it’s all my fault. I take full responsibility and blame.”

  Even Harriet knew it wasn’t all his fault. She could be a little difficult sometimes. Zachary was a very shy person; she might have expected too much from him. But his words sounded more than practiced, they sounded coached.

  “What’s in the bag, Zachary?” She was almost afraid to know.

  “Tokens of my affection.” He’d never bought her gifts. They’d had only the one night, or rather part of it, but she knew Zachary well enough to find the whole “token of his affection” speech suspect.

  Her heart beat a little faster, and tears pricked her eyes again. “What?” It came out sounding nastier than she meant, but the dull ache in her chest didn’t allow her to take it back.

  His pale hand disappeared into the froth of pink and blue tissue, emerging with a gift-wrapped box. She knew that wrapping, could see the name though the thin paper.

  Candies. Chocolates. A pound of them. The weight would adhere to her thighs like an alien creature.

  Zachary would never buy her chocolates on his own. He wouldn’t stop her from eating them, but he wouldn’t put the temptation in front of her. At work, if a client sent a treat in appreciation, Zachary would carry the box around, making sure it was empty but one by the time he got to Harriet.

  He hadn’t had a mere coach, he’d had a bad coach.

  Pissed because he’d been talking to someone about her, because he should have known better, she laid into him with her hands on her hateful fat hips. “So you want me to stay fat.”

&nb
sp; “No, I—”

  “You want someone to whom you can feel superior.”

  “That’s not—”

  “What else is in there?” She stabbed at the bag.

  A box the size of a jewelry case. Jewelry. A little of her misery seeped out her nostrils with a sigh. Oh, Zachary. In her hands, it was heavier than a ring box. A flowery aroma floated into the air. She fumbled with the wrapping and the box lid, unearthing a bottle of cologne. Cheap cologne.

  “This isn’t what I wear.”

  “I didn’t know you wore any. You always smell so—”

  “Bad? So you thought you’d give me a hint that I stink?”

  “I don’t think—”

  “You never think,” she screeched, and with that she threw the bottle at him, the atomizer popping off when it hit his shoulder. Perfume splashed his hair and neck and stained his shirt.

  God, that was bitchy. And out of control. The stench made her eyes itch and water.

  Zachary merely picked up the bottle from his lap, snapped the atomizer back in and set it on her coffee table.

  She felt so bad, she couldn’t stop. “Anything else in there?”

  “One more.”

  “Well, then you’ve got one more chance, don’t you? This better be good.” Harriet the Harridan. She knew exactly why they called her that. But she couldn’t have shut it down now any more than she could give Zachary the benefit of the doubt. Not now, not when she knew in her bones that someone had told Zachary to ply her with presents. Someone who didn’t know her at all.

  Someone like T. Larry who was only concerned about getting rid of her pesky little lawsuit.

  With a timid hand, Zachary reached in once more. Another box, eight by eight. It didn’t rattle as he held it in shaky hands. Please don’t let it be. Please don’t let it be.

  She unwrapped it. A miniscule slinky pink teddy with white lace foaming at the high-cut legs. It wouldn’t cover her breasts. It wouldn’t hide one butt cheek, let alone disguise her thighs. She’d look like Miss Piggy in a pink tutu. “So you think you’d get a big laugh out of telling everyone what I look like in this.”

  “I’d never—”

  “Well, I wouldn’t put this on for you if it cost a million dollars.” She’d burn it first. In fact…