by Ellen, Tracy
Unaware of any undercurrents, Stella went on chatting blithely, “Our party here was really fun last night, Mike. I can’t wait to play games after dinner tomorrow with everyone.” Smiling happily at the three of us standing silently, she said, “Okay, I’m off to get back to work baggin’ and taggin’.”
Stella was predominantly manning the book trade-in counter today and has stacks of used books waiting to stamp and then scan into the system. For reasons that escape me, my staff has morbidly dubbed this practice baggin’ and taggin’.
Mike smiled easily and said, “Thanks, Stell. See you tomorrow.”
Angling around me to go out into the store, Anna gave me a quick nudge and a questioning look when Mike was answering Stella. She grimaced in sympathy at my slight shrug. I vaguely remember now Mac and Stella rushing to invite Mike for Thanksgiving when he forlornly mentioned last night that he had no plans.
‘That mother-daughter team is really getting on my nerves today.’
Mike was saying, “Is Eric George going to be there? I really like that guy, Stella, he’s a keeper.”
Stella grinned widely. “I know, isn’t he so cute?” Mike only laughed at that question while Stella explained, “First, we are having an early dinner with his family, and then we’ll be here around three. It should be an exciting day tomorrow!”
My niece shot me a significant look and put a hand on her stomach.
Anna looked immediately suspicious and asked, “What was that look for, Stella? What’s so exciting about tomorrow?”
Stella’s face got panicky at being point-blanked. She glanced at me in entreaty, and amused as always at my niece’s complete lack of subtlety, I stepped into the breach.
Turning my head so that only Anna could see my full face, I widened my eyes and cut them back towards Stella and Mike. “Anna, you never said. Did your catered lunch go well today?”
As a distraction this was nowhere near meeting my normal high standards, but it was the best I could come up with, teetering as I am on the edge of mental collapse. The second Anna took her eyes off Stella to give me a considering look; my niece whipped Mike a jaunty wave and escaped down the side aisle.
Inadvertently, Mike saved the day by claiming her full attention. “Anna Banana, will you look at you all spiffed out in your whites! Where’s the tall, puffy hat?”
Anna really despised being called Anna Banana and I was surprised Mike forgot that.
Anna only gritted her teeth and replied, “Thanks, but that cat-in-the-hat look is very special. I only wear it to turn Reggie on.”
I snorted at that answer. Anna has a peanut head. The chef hats she owned are practically as tall as me and she looked goofy as hell when she wore one.
“Heard you were confused who got you drunk last night?” she teased Mike back.
Mike glanced quickly over at me and I raised my brows. His chuckle was forced. “I see you have Reggie well-trained already.”
Anna reared back in mock surprise. “Are you nuts? Train an Axelrod?” She motioned with her head towards my office. “I’d have better luck training that solid wood door.”
Mike agreed with a straight-face, “This is so true. Block heads, each and every one of them. How could I have forgotten?”
Anna giggled and left us to go talk to Maria, and hopefully get my coffee.
I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the door jam. I silently regarded Mike McClain, the handsome and charming lawyer. He has the dubious distinction of being my only old boyfriend and the newest big, fat troublemaker in my life. He looked pretty cute in glasses, too. I wondered idly if he needed them to see, or if they were a preppy prop to make him look more lawyer-like. Anything causing a man to appear brainier ratchets up the initial hotness factor for me. However, the disappointment was more crushing if he didn’t actually have one upon further acquaintance. I prefer not to be turned on by glasses until I knew which it was.
“So, Mike McClain, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Mike smiled slowly. “Can I talk to you for a minute in private, Bel?”
I nodded reluctantly. If Mike was smart, he wanted to talk to me alone to apologize for this morning’s deliberate baiting of Luke at the disrespectful expense of my privacy. If he wanted to talk to me alone for any other reason, then he’s a ding-dong. Either way, it was best I get it over with and hear him out. I’ll give him a fair chance to be smart and then we can move on.
“I’ll be right back.” Thinking of my privacy and his borderline actions earlier today, I didn’t offer for him to wait alone in my office, but added, “Why don’t you stay here while I get us a drink?”
I headed to the employee kitchen to pick up my box lunch and two waters. In the relative privacy of the short hallway leading to the break room, I called Luke’s cell. He didn’t pick up. Frowning, I walked into the break room.
“Hey, Billy,” I greeted absently.
My long-haired store manager was reading Tolkien at the break table amidst the wrappers of his finished lunch. Raising his eyes, he grinned, “Boss Lady, how’s your day going?”
I grabbed my lunch from the fridge and grimaced, “About to get interesting, I fear. I’m leaving for a while around 3:00 p.m., but I’ll be back before five. Don’t leave today without sitting on me to meet with you and Stell for fifteen minutes about security issues, okay?”
He laughed. “Now there’s a visual, but I can do it.”
I nodded and replied, “No doubt that’s because you’re such a killer of a nice guy.”
“I am?” Billy called after me, “I thought it’s because I’m bigger than you!”
I was still smiling when I ushered Mike into my office and closed the door with a swing of my hip.
Setting my lunch down at my desk, I handed Mike one of the waters. He took off his jacket and sat sprawling back against the loveseat cushions. He stretched his long legs out before him. My little office was cozy and not that wide. Mike’s legs neatly bisected the room in half between my desk and the built-in bookcase tucked under the angled, sloping ceiling on the far wall.
Catching myself standing there and looking at him again, I shook my head slightly with a frown. I was still not used to seeing Mike McClain hanging around, big as you please. It’s a little annoying to see him sitting on my girly, plushy loveseat surveying my office with his lip curled like he owned the place and wanted to redecorate.
“What’s the frown for?” Mike asked with an unconcerned smile in his voice.
“Just reflecting on how weird life is sometimes,” I replied, sitting down at the desk and opened the box containing my lunch. I’d ordered club sandwiches, chips, and a brownie. I looked up to find Mike watching me under lowered lids. “I’m a Starvin’ Marvin, so please excuse my rudeness, but I must eat. Would you like half?”
Mike held out a peremptory hand, “I’ll eat your pickle, since I know you don’t like them.”
“Sorry, but I do like pickles now. Want some kettle chips instead?”
His smile got an edge when I denied him my pickle, but he only shook his head no at the offer of chips. Shrugging, I took a big bite from the corner of the toasted sandwich. Closing my eyes at the taste of the salty bacon exploding in my mouth, I moaned a little in contentment.
My eyes snapped open when he ruined my moment by asking, “Have you changed so much, Bel, since we were together?”
Mike’s voice sounded sadly serious, but I saw there was a confident, playful gleam in the eyes that met mine. Chewing thoughtfully, I realized that Mike thought this couldn’t possibly be true. In his mind, I may have grown up some, but I was still the girl who was once in love with him.
Mike’s eyes have drifted downward and were currently on my breasts. A girl could usually tell when a man was secretly checking out her body, and if he had any panache, it could feel like a silent compliment. There was nothing subtle or hidden about Mike’s appraisal while he awaited my response.
Sprawled on the couch like a potentate obser
ving his personal harem girl, his eyes were almost leering as he evaluated my body from my head to toe. I didn’t know if this move of openly evaluating a woman’s finer points like he owned her usually worked for him, but I thought it was kind of skeevy.
I found it hard not to giggle and say, “Eww, icky!” when he slowly licked his lips and flared his nostrils like a stallion scenting a mare. I was vaguely surprised Mike was acting this way since I thought he had more charm and technique. I didn’t recall the nostril thing as being part of his repertoire when he was my boyfriend. It would have grossed me out, and Mike didn’t gross me out ten years ago like he was doing today. Not that it mattered to me now. I knew for sure after his kiss last night any feelings, sexual or romantic, that I once had for Mike were a thing of the past.
Am I wrong to believe that you can’t force the love?
See, I don’t think you can, either.
It’s true I didn’t believe in the traditional idea of romantic love, anyway, but I did believe in being smart. Smart girls know that if you try to force feelings that aren’t there, nowhere was the only place you’ll end up.
I munched a couple more of the sea salt and vinegar chips, and delicately licked off my fingers while waiting for him to meet my eyes. When he finally did, I replied dryly, “Gee, why don’t you tell me if I’ve changed.”
Mike grinned easily, not put off in the least by my snarkiness. He knows down to the last ounce how attractive most women find him, although he’s usually at his charming best and not conceited. Mike’s got it all happening; brains, a nice body, good looks, and a healthy bank account.
His relationship with me was probably the only thing in Mike’s life that hasn’t gone exactly the way he’d carefully planned. Since that was through no fault of our own, Mike could be excused for thinking I might be ready to jump back into a romantic relationship with him. I thought leaving him at my apartment last night and going to Luke’s farm would send a clear enough message. After that, I didn’t think he’d still pursue me. I had forgotten how deep down his streak of competitiveness runs.
Mike sat up straight on the loveseat and rolled his shoulders. He pinned me with his sincerest, warm-eyed smile. “You look hotter than ever, Bel. That hasn’t changed.”
Smiling slightly at his flattery, I shook my head in mild exasperation and took a bite of the zesty pickle spear. Also popping a chip into my mouth, I crunched noisily while enjoying the flavor combo.
Mike observed me with some exasperation of his own before his face got serious again. “Bel, it’s been ten years, but we’ve always got along so well, don’t you think?”
I nodded immediately. This was true. Mike and I rarely argued when we were together. I’d be happy to have him as a friend. Gulping down some water thirstily, I set the bottle down and took up the club sandwich again.
Taking a daintier bite this time, I mumbled, “Mmm, Rueb’s makes the best club sandwiches. I don’t know how they keep their bacon crisp, yet not hard and chewy. It’s really good. Do you remember how we used to always order their cheese curds?” I sighed, thinking about those greasy little morsels of deep-fried, bad dairy love. “I can still smell them sometimes in my dreams. Can you, too?”
Mike gave me a strange look, but agreed with an impatient flick of his hand, “Ah yeah, I liked their cheese curds. I don’t dream about them, but I still get curds every once in a while at an art festival.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I remember we had fun, too. Our interests were so similar. Do you remember how many times we golfed at Southern Hills that last summer?” His eyes crinkled and he chuckled. “How you wouldn’t give up trying to beat me, and from the men’s tee no less! That was so cute.”
Munching on another handful of chips I agreed, “We did golf a whole lot back then. I wonder why? It seems like we should have had better things to do.” I shrugged one shoulder. “Oh well. I don’t golf much these days. I prefer spending my rare time off at a yoga class or at the gun range.” I snickered. “Now that you bring it up, I do remember how you sulked like a brat when I did beat you.”
“One time you beat me, and only when I had a torn rotator cuff,” he protested, putting aside his water bottle and flushing at my less than flattering description of his sportsmanship.
Now I really do remember golfing. Mike was so competitive; it got to be no fun fast if he wasn’t winning. I just rarely saw him not winning, so it was easy to overlook that side of him when I was eighteen.
I shook my head emphatically. “Three times, and you said you had a torn rotator cuff, Dr. Convenient, but it ended up healing miraculously after we were done golfing.” I laughed and taunted, “Ha! You should have tried being me golfing against you every time! I’m eleven inches shorter, weighed a hundred pounds of muscle less, and have breasts that got in the way of my swing. Did I complain? No, I did not. So you call me in the morning about your poor torn shoulder and be patronizing, you big baby!”
Mike’s easy smile appeared a tad forced, but still resolute. He reached over and captured my hand that was en route towards my mouth with the pickle spear. I tugged insistently to free my hand, but he frowned and held on determinedly.
“Jesus, forget the pickle, Bel,” He scowled, but then his face softened and he murmured in a persuasive voice, “I think you and I should be together again. We’d be married now, if it wasn’t for what your cousin did. I want to tell you all about my plans for us.”
“I don’t want to forget the pickle, I told you I’m starving,” I retorted indignantly, trying to shake my hand loose again.
When Mike ignored me, I grabbed the pickle with my free hand and shoved it in my mouth before he could stop me. I stated, “Mike, listen, this is not going to work…”
Mike interrupted me without listening. Loudly and enthusiastically, he rushed over my protests and painted his rosy picture of our life together. Basically ignored, I huffed out an aggravated laugh. I decided that maybe if I let him say his piece I could escape quicker. I’d let him down gently and we could move on as friends. But soon my mouth moved slower and slower, until I forgot to keep chewing the big pickle at all. I stared at Mike in stupefaction while he revealed his masterpiece. His very detailed, paint by number, don’t go out of the lines masterpiece.
“This is the life that could be ours, Bel!” He promised warmly, squeezing my corralled hand between his larger ones. “With my partner position at the new firm, you can pick out the perfect house. I envision us in South Minneapolis.” He shook his head in admonition like I had argued and said, “No, Tangletown is too close to the freeway, and a house on Lake Harriet or Isles, while arguably prestigious, lacks any real privacy. That goes for the Parkway, as well. Minnetonka would be ideal, but with the commute and traffic these days, it’s just not worth it for the kind of long hours I put in at the office.” His finger teasingly stroked my palm and he raised his brows with a grin. “I’ll want to be able to get home to you, as fast as possible.” I pulled at my hand in his grasp again and tried to speak, but he said quickly, “I’m thinking more on the Southwest side of the lakes, but certainly not Edina.”
He chuckled derisively, and it was plain what he thought of being so obvious a social climber as to buy a house in Edina. I was happy to see evidence of some sort of coherent thinking still happening in his brain, but I was getting truly annoyed that he wouldn’t let me talk.
“Geez, will you let go of my hand? Listen Mike, I…”
I could feel my cheeks getting warm and my eyes narrowing when he rolled right over my protests yet again, and kept my hand imprisoned. “I have clients everywhere, so we’ll travel the country together. We can play golf year round, and you can shop while I’m working. You’ll be my hostess when we’re in town. I know how much you like to entertain. We’re talking serious money and social connections that will help my career.”
He grinned broadly at me after dangling these so-called treats beneath my nose. I stared at him, aghast. I was hoping for the punch line, so that I could have a little
faith he still has a brain.
He moved closer and said, “Don’t worry; you’ll soon get the hang of mingling with top-notch people. You’ll be awesome, Bel, and in no time become my greatest asset. I’ve thought about this issue and weighed the pros and cons.” Growing more provoked at his self-deluded monologue with every self-absorbed word, I watched his smile turn into a musing frown. “It’s a pity you never went to college, and you’ll remember I wasn’t happy back then with your decision. Fortunately, you have so much natural charm and native intelligence that my clients and their wives will love you, despite your lack of formal education. I don’t think we have to be ashamed about that issue.” He chuckled and shook my hand playfully. “What was your grandmother thinking, anyway, encouraging you to work here and not go to school? I suppose she didn’t want to lose her favorite little worker, right?”
Now my cheeks were hot and my eyes were cold. I didn’t bother with speaking, but listened to the sex kitten voice yowling, ‘Now! Do it, Girl!’
I dug my long nails into Mike’s hand until he released mine with a startled exclamation and a pained, hurt expression on his face. “Ouch! Dammit Bel, what did you do that for?”
“I asked you nicely to let go of my hand, Mike, and you wouldn’t listen! Just like you won’t listen to…”
Mike raised his voice and overrode me, “Okay, Bel, I’m sorry. Jesus, I didn’t hear you!” He shook his wounded hand and then inspected the scratches. He motioned to me. “Go ahead and eat, then, if you’re that hungry.” He looked at his hand again and pouted, “So sue a guy, why don’t you? I thought you might like to hold hands while I tell you about the dream life we’ll have together.” He shot me an accusing glare, “The life we would have together if we’d been married years ago, instead of being split apart against our wills!”