‘What? Come on Dad, that’s not rude, it’s just an item of clothing.’
‘Don’t worry. I don’t own any thongs.’
‘Now there’s a surprise.’
Behind them, someone dropped a set of keys onto the slate floor, and everyone jumped.
Jess.
Henri swore under her breath. Great, now he knows that apart from dressing like a nun on the outside, her underwear was also g-rated.
‘Hi Jess,’ she said, before anyone else spoke. Why? Why did she say hello first. Why was she so weird around Jess.
And why did he seem to be trying to constantly avoid being in her company?
‘So, who is up for camping this weekend?’ Pastor Paul asked. ‘I’ve promised Amy and a couple of her mates. Em has made some killer stews to reheat over the campfire.’
‘I’ve got to work. Saturday nights are the busiest ones.’
‘So, tell the manager you’re ill or something?’ Amy said.
‘Amy, that would be lying!’
‘And they made me the manager, so it would be pointless, too.’
There was a grim silence. Em had come in with a basket of washing, and had overheard the last statement. No one seemed happy that Jess had gone from a great career in law to managing a Queens pizza joint.
Except for Henri, who guiltily thanked the heavens that she had a good reason not to go camping, leaving her and Jess alone in the house. ‘Sorry guys, but I have a terrible allergy to some sort of forest flowers. When I was a kid we went to visit distant relatives in New Hampshire and I had to be rushed to hospital. I really can’t go anywhere too rustic upstate, just in case.’
Although, what did she think was going to happen? God, why did her resolve about not having sex before marriage seem so tested in the house of a pastor?
‘Oh, that’s a shame?’ Amy winked at her. ‘Maybe you could use the time to go shopping for some really short-shorts and cropped T-shirts!’
Henri shook her head in mock distress. ‘Sorry, honey, but that’s just not me. Also, it doesn’t set a good example to you kids for women to wear practically nothing. I know it’s about 120 degrees Celsius outside, but still . . .’
And then she noticed that father and daughter were shaking their heads sadly.
Pastor Paul patted Henri on the back. ‘I’m with the kid, Ms Prime. You dress like a grandma. Why not try The Gap at least?’
‘I’ll see,’ she promised them, looking down at herself. Could that be it? Did Jess think she was some sort of religious prude.
Oh heck. She was some sort of religious prude – who was she kidding. Worse, she never went to any sort of church, so in fact, calling herself a religious prude was probably an insult to religion.
She was just a prude, plan and simple.
A 26-year old who was afraid of sex.
And before this, it had never bothered her.
But now, because of Jess, Henri was contemplating a trip into Manhattan to buy something a little less nun-like.
Even if she wasn’t sure what she was going to do if Jess finally decided to pay attention to her.
Why was everything, everything, so difficult?
But when Henri got into Manhattan, she found she had no idea how to shop for clothes that weren’t, well, corporate. Walking along Fifth Avenue, she spied a familiar figure ahead.
Wasn’t that?
Yes, the woman from MNC, Eva, or something. Henri couldn’t remember her surname.
‘Hi,’ Henri called, not really sure why she did.
Because you have no friends except the Calinkos?
‘Oh, Henri.’ Eva smiled brightly and offered her cheek for a kiss.
Wow, Americans really were friendly, weren’t they? Meet them once, they were your friend for life.
‘How are you?’
‘Fine?’
‘Peter says you’re working upstate.’
That’s what Henri had told him. Admitting to the bingo thing was far too humiliating.
‘Yep, for a small local place. Corporate stuff.’
She prayed Eva wouldn’t ask the name of the station; someone who worked for MNC was bound to know every single radio station in the tri-state area.
Luckily, Eva seemed distracted. ‘So, what are you doing in Manhattan then?’
Feeling she could confide in Eva, because it was unlikely the exec was close to Peter or anyone else she knew, Henri told her she was shopping for clothes. ‘For stuff a little more, er, sexy.’
That piqued Eva’s interest. ‘How come? You don’t seem the type to care what people think.’
‘A guy, I, er, I work with. He doesn’t know I exist, so I thought a change of image might do the trick.’
‘Really?’ Now Eva seemed really interested. For the first time, Henri noticed how pretty she was beneath all that make-up and the severe hairstyle. Was that a sprinkling of freckles across her nose?
‘So, any ideas where I should go to get some casual stuff. Nothing over-the-top, just not, well this.’ Henri pointed to her navy slacks and stripy top. It was far too corporate for the sunny Saturday, but it was the most casual outfit she had brought from London.
‘I’ve got the perfect place,’ Eva told her. ‘A market stall in Soho. Dresses for $10. Short and trendy. And they have some really cool shoes too.’ She said this whilst contemplating Henri’s nun-like leather brogues.
Henri nodded quickly, before Eva decided she was a lost cause and gave up on her. ‘Let’s go, and lunch is on me.’
‘Deal.’ Eva smiled and once again, Henri was surprised at how different she looked when she wasn’t in ‘corporate mode’.
Just the type Peter would go for.
Then again, Peter’s prerequisites were female and a pulse, so that was hardly saying something, was it?
When Henri arrived back at the Calinkos, the house was in semi-darkness, despite it still being bright enough outside. It reminded her of London in winter; you always had to have the lights on. She took the shopping bags full of trendy, youthful clothes up to her bedroom, and then came back downstairs to make a decent cup of tea. She had never been in her hosts’ kitchen alone before, never been allowed to make her own brew, thanks to their overwhelming kindness. Which meant she had no idea where the teabags or the sugar were.
‘Cupboard above the kettle.’ A voice said from the corner of the room.
Henri jumped about six feet.
Looking around she saw Jess sitting at the pine table.
Looking incredible in a denim shirt and chinos; legs propped up on the table, dark, impossibly thick hair tousled.
‘God, you scared me.’
Why hadn’t she changed into one of the new dresses? Stop being ridiculous, her subconscious warned. What will you do with him if you attract him to you like that?
I could think of a few things.
Henri was shocked at her body’s reaction to the smoldering Jess.
Why was my stomach sinking into my . . .
Stop it.
Don’t want to.
Hmm. So this is what it was all about.
Remember your values, the sensible part of her insisted.
‘Sorry.’
‘What?’
‘Sorry for frightening you.’
‘Oh, that’s okay.’ Henri turned to get the tea things, and hoped he wouldn’t notice her hands were shaking. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Just sitting.’
Dark and mysterious.
‘How come?’ She tried to sound bright and relatively uninterested, because she didn’t want to come across desperate for information, like the rest of the family did.
‘Just because,’ he said, a slight grin curling his lips.
‘Oh.’
Suddenly Jess swung his feet around and stood up, walking over to her.
Henri thought she might pass out from the proximity.
‘The sugar’s usually way in the back, Dad has a habit of shoving it too far along when he puts back the other stuff.’
‘Oh.’
Jess passed her the ceramic jar.
‘Do you want one?’
‘Tea, no thanks!’ He smiled.
‘Coffee?’
‘No, gotta go to work now. You’ll be okay?’
‘Sure.’
‘I’ll bring you back a pizza for your tea if you want.’
‘No, it’s fine. I don’t really eat pizza.’
He found this amusing. ‘How come you’re always in the store buying it, then?’
Henri blushed and explained about Amy’s friends. ‘I’m not a great role model, am I?’
Jess moved away and grabbed a coat that was thrown over the back of a chair. ‘Don’t worry, all natural, organic ingredients, and we try to cut down on the fat too. It’s not too bad for them.’
‘Oh.’
God, Henri. You’re a communications’ professional. Try saying something other than a grunt.
‘Well, see you later then. Remember to lock the door, I’ve got a key.’
And then, with another devastating, if not tiny, smile, he was gone.
And Henri, all thoughts of tea gone, had to sit down to stop her legs from trembling.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PETER SAT LISTENING TO THE LATEST sob story, noting with interest that Eva Claire’s wardrobe had gone from being sexy to downright pornographic. Today it was a sheer white, see-through top, underneath which she was wearing some sort of corset contraption.
Maybe he could see her a few more times.
A couple more nights of fun wouldn’t count as a relationship, would it?
‘And then, she just told me my friend was cuter than me.’
Shit. What on earth did the caller say? Peter glanced quickly at the screen in front of him,
Reggie from Connecticut.
Should he dump fiancée because she thinks his mate is better looking than him?
‘Right, Reggie, that sounds grim, mate. Let’s take some calls, but before we do, can we establish that you are fully prepared to give your girlie the heave-ho live on air, tonight, if we get to ten reasons to say I don’t?’ The line was becoming twee now, but Peter knew it was what the listeners and the network expected.
For about the 50th time that week, he wished that Henri was here to take up some of the slack. She was brilliant at dotting the ‘I’s and all the rest of that stuff.
‘Yeah, yeah. I’ll drop her alright.’
So far, Peter and the audience had managed to raise the ten points required for ‘a dump’ each and every show.
Perhaps, this time, they could convince this guy not to give the girl her marching orders, although by the sounds of it they would be doing her a favor. This one sounded as if he hadn’t learned to sit on chairs yet. Yes, let’s stir things up a little. Peter looked down at his monitor.
1. Rob from New York.
Dump her, you don’t want to be competing with your mate all your life.
2. Casey from Minnesota.
Don’t dump her, because guys check out better looking women all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.
3. Harry from Texas.
Dump her, she’s got no taste.
So, Casey it is then. Peter clicked onto Line 2 and let Casey tell Reggie what’s what.
He smiled as the program progressed, the debate inflamed by an intervention from a lesbian who took on Casey’s point.
Outside, Eva and Carson, who had made an appearance to give his approval at the choice of the lesbian, were looking a little too cosy for comfort; laughing and talking together on the sofa behind Chewy and X.
Hmm.
Peter found himself actually caring that Eva had other admirers.
He considered that see-through shirt again.
Maybe just one more date; one more night to get her out of his system.
Then again, did he really want to do that?
After all, a second date implied things, didn’t it?
For a start, that there might be a third.
And he wasn’t ready for that level of commitment.
A stab of pain in his chest distracted him. Shit, not heartburn again. Rubbing the offending area, Peter waited until a commercial break, then asked X, who was now one of his biggest fans, if he could find him some antacids.
No, the thought of asking Eva out again was already given him problems.
Best leave her to Carson and find some poor bimbo researcher to scratch his itch, so to speak.
Henri lay listening to Peter’s show, because Jess would be working late and she really couldn’t be bothered doing anything else. Interesting; well, not the actual problem, that was the same old rubbish. But Peter’s reaction was out of the ordinary. For the first time the scoundrel bounder with the morals of an alley cat didn’t dump his or her partner. In fact, the whole thing escalated into a rather meaty debate and eventually the callers Pete chose to participate in the show began to demonstrate IQs of levels previously unheard on ‘Ten Reasons.’
Wow. Either Peter was being threatened at gunpoint, or something was seriously wrong.
Grabbing her phone, Henri quickly fired off a text.
R U Ok?
The reply was just as quick.
No, execs so boring I might blow my brains out. Come back to me, quick!
Henri signed. Peter was fine. His usually, buoyantly irreverent self. Texting that she’d call him later, she rolled over and closed her eyes.
Maybe tomorrow, something might happen with Jess.
And those ceramic pigs that were carefully attached to Em’s kitchen dresser might fly.
Sunday morning Henri woke at 8:00 a.m., late for her, and raced through her morning routine of shower; all over moisturizing and quick buff and trim of nails.
Pulling on one of the new cheapie dresses – a cute navy floral halterneck that came just above her knees – and sliding her feet into a pair of flat nude colored leather sandals, Henri let her hair dress straight down, without added the usual curls care-of the hot rollers.
The end result was that she looked about nineteen; tanned and healthy and not at all the same girl who left London just over a month earlier.
Taking a deep breath, Henri made her way downstairs, planning to make some crepes and casually offer them to Jess when he appears for breakfast.
Just as she was adding a touch of salt to the hand-beaten batter, Jess appeared, but he wasn’t alone.
Henri hadn’t thought she could feel worse than when Rodney told her there would be no marriage because he ‘wasn’t sure’.
But this, for some strange reason, seemed worse.
Jess stopped short at the sight of her. ‘Oh, hi.’
And behind him, someone called out in surprise.
‘Henri?’
The someone was wearing one of Jess’s western shirts, and nothing else. The someone was the lovely Raelene, who Henri hadn’t seen since she had offered her the bingo job.
Henri hadn’t bothered questioning Raelene’s connection to the Calinkos, but here, at 9:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning, she realized that she should have.
Raelene Morris was dating Jess Calinko.
And it felt as if someone had kicked Henri in the chest, causing her heart to sink into her calves.
What a fool she was, dressed down in the stupid new dress.
Question: How could she compete with someone as sexy as Raelene.
Answer: She couldn’t.
‘Hey, Henri, could to see you. Jess says that you’ve been fitting in, but gosh, you look incredible. Like you’re still in high school. Doesn’t she, Jess?’
Jess was staring at her as if she had morphed into an alien. ‘Yeah.’
‘You look great too, Raelene,’ Henri said, without thinking. Raelene definitely had that just-shagged look about her, and all present knew it.
An awkward silence followed, and Henri slowly tossed the crepes, conscious that she wouldn’t be able to stomach any food watching the two lovebirds.
With the natural exuberance of som
eone who was completely comfortable with their good looks, Raelene threw Jess a cheeky grin and announced that she was going to have a shower, and freshen up.
Which left Jess and Henri staring at each other awkwardly.
‘Sorry, about, um, well . . .’Making his way to the fridge to avoid further uncomfortable conversation, Jess opened the white door wide and stood looking for the longest time.
Perhaps he was hoping for the proverbial whale to swallow him up whole and save him.
Nervousness got to the better of Henri too, when she blurted out: ‘Nice of your father to be so liberal, given that his is a religious man and all.’
Jess spun around. ‘Liberal?’
‘You know, letting you have girls here.’
‘Well, I am 22.’
The Revenge Date/Ten Reasons to Say I Don't Bundle (Romantic Comedy) Page 19