Quick Takes

by Gretchen Galway

  “What were you dreaming about?”

  “Green plastic shoes,” he said.

  She felt herself flush. He had been dreaming about her. “My granddaughter picked them out for me.”

  “Merry? Isn’t she a baby?”

  “She was in the stroller. Grabbed them off the rack, wouldn’t let go. Her mother had to buy them.” Trixie rested her cheek on Hugo’s shoulder and played with his chest hair. “You don’t have some kind of shoe fetish, do you?”

  “I cherish anything that reminds me of you.”

  “Holy Moses, you’ve got good lines.” She traced his nipple, shaking her head. “Did you read that one in a book?”

  He put a hand over hers, capturing it over his heart. “I meant everything I’ve said.”

  She’d known him for more than seven years. During all that time, he’d been intelligent, hardworking, and honest—but he’d never had such a smooth tongue. She propped herself up on an elbow and stared him down. “Read it on the Internet?”

  His gaze darted to one side.

  Aha. “Which website?” she asked.

  Silence.

  “I don’t mind if you got a little help,” she said. “It would be a good resource for Sly. He could use a little help in talking to Cleo.”

  “I’ll email him a link,” he muttered.

  “Good man,” she said, patting his chest.

  “Thank you.”

  “What else did you memorize?”

  Pressing his lips together, he turned his head away.

  “That’s all right,” she said, “my memory isn’t so good anymore either. I forget my phone number once a week. Not the house, my cell. I wrote it on my watchband in a Sharpie so I can find it quickly.”

  “I have a perfectly good memory,” he said.

  “Well, you must. You’ve trotted out several good lines this weekend without stumbling over any of them. I didn’t suspect anything until just now.”

  “What tipped you off?”

  “You’d never come up with ‘cherish’ on your own. I mean, come on.”

  “I thought about using the other one but didn’t want to freak you out.”

  “Another quote?”

  “No,” he said. “Another word.”

  “What word would…” Heart flip-flopping in her chest, she fell silent.

  “I love anything that reminds me of you.”

  He caught her face in both hands. “Anything.”

  Her voice fell to a whisper. “Anything?”

  He nodded.

  “Like, say, me?” she asked.

  “You remind me of yourself quite often, in fact.”

  “Imagine that.”

  His thumb stroked her cheek. “Trixie…”

  She wrenched away and jumped to her feet with the vigor she saved for the moments at the gym when a trainer was looking her way. “I’m starving. Come with me to that buffet? I’m in the mood for some lobster and chocolate cake.”

  8

  “I’m sorry I teased you earlier,” Hugo said, dunking a crab leg in a pool of sriracha sauce. His plate was as wide as his forearm and overflowing with a crazy array of items from the buffet. “About moving in together. I was just making sure you weren’t going to get too serious about me.”

  Trixie was eating her third made-to-order Nutella dessert crepe. This one was topped with whipped cream and decorated with raspberry drizzle and powdered sugar. Her first two servings had included cinnamon-caramel ice cream, but this plate only had extra whipped cream. She hadn’t wanted to overdo it. It was the only thing she’d eaten from the buffet. Honestly, why eat anything else? She was thinking about ordering another one.

  “You weren’t making sure.” She kept her gaze fixed on the crepe as she scooped out another spoonful of hazelnut-chocolate filling. “You meant what you said.”

  “Well, maybe a little. At that moment. We’d just spent the night together and I was half-asleep. You were right to talk me down.” He pointed at his plate. “Would you like a bite of the Wagyu beef lasagna?”

  “How do you know it’s Wagyu beef?”

  “Everything’s labeled with tiny LED screens. Didn’t you notice?”

  She pushed her plate away, suddenly queasy. “I went straight to the dessert table. I didn’t look at any screens.” The crepes had blinded her to anything else.

  Why would he lie about wanting to move in together? Did he expect her to change her mind? Or did he just want to keep having sex with her, even if there was no future in it?

  Stifling a groan, she put her hand over her stomach. “I need to take a walk.”

  He dropped his fork and put his napkin down. “Good idea. I could use some air too.” He paused. “Unless you’d rather be alone.”

  “Why would I rather be alone?”

  “That wouldn’t be like you, would it?” The corner of his mouth twitched as he stood and came around to help her out of her chair. “I’ve always admired extroverted people.”

  “Would you rather be alone?”

  “Often,” he said, “but not now. Not when I could be with you.”

  She stood and looked at her watch. Just past five. Sly and Cleo would certainly be going out on another date tonight, and this would finally do the trick. Cleo would let Sly seduce her, and soon he’d figure out how deep his feelings ran, how much he wanted from her. It might take a little time, but he’d get there. Hopefully Cleo wouldn’t suffer too much while Sly realized, to his surprise, that he did want to get married after all these years. But it would all pay off in the end.

  Trixie could see it. She could feel it. It was like watching a favorite movie for the millionth time—she knew what was going to happen.

  But when she looked at Hugo, she didn’t know anything.

  Well, she knew he was wonderful. Although he’d never publicized the fact, he’d volunteered countless hours to helping abandoned animals or desperate humans who didn’t have the cash to pay for his services. Whenever Trixie went into the clinic, she’d seen how much his staff admired and adored him, even the lowest-paid vet techs, whom he tutored after hours if they wanted help with college or grad school. And his love for his nephew, Sly, showed how deeply he cared about family, even if he didn’t like to talk about it.

  “Trixie?” Hugo came around the table and put an arm around her shoulders. Lowering his voice, he spoke gently in her ear. “Do you need a bathroom? You’re looking a little green.”

  She nodded. “Too many crepes.”

  He kissed her hair before leading her through the sea of bodies hunkered over their Wagyu beef and crab legs and fondue to the back of the restaurant.

  Wonderful guy. Even if she discounted the skills in the bedroom, which she was trying not to think about as they might cloud her judgment.

  Might. What a joke. Of course they clouded her judgment. Sex like last night—and that afternoon—had formed a Category 5 hurricane. If she was able to walk and talk at all right now, it was only because she was in the eye of the storm. When it struck again—she snuck a peek at his profile, heart racing with the thought of another landfall—she’d fall apart like a sandcastle in a tidal wave.

  She used the bathroom, which had the automated toilets, soap, faucets, and paper towel dispensers that always confounded her, and returned to Hugo, who lounged against the wall outside looking like Cary Banderas again.

  “You’re looking a little better now,” he said, smiling down at her.

  Throwing her arms around him, she returned his smile. “You look pretty good yourself.”

  “Maybe you just needed to get up for a minute.”

  “Exercise is always good.”

  He stroked her cheek. “Maybe in the morning we could drive out into the desert for a little hike before we catch the plane home.”

  Home. She didn’t really want to go home yet. It was too soon.

  “I was thinking of another kind of exercise,” she said. “Something we could do right now.”

  Brow furrowing, he flushed. �
��You know, Trixie, I’m not as young as I used to be…”

  “The pool. It has waterfalls and hot tubs and fire pits. I’ve got to see it in person.”

  “You’re up for that?”

  “I’m starting to think I’m up for anything,” she said.

  9

  “So earlier,” Trixie said as she floated in a steaming pool of bubbling water, the sun setting behind the modern towers of glass and steel, a virgin daiquiri in a plastic cocktail glass at her side. “When you said you loved me—”

  “Hold on.” Hugo choked on his own drink, a Coke Zero in the can. “I haven’t said that yet.”

  “Sure you did. And there you just said ‘yet’, which of course means you do.”

  He set down the can of Coke and stared at her a moment. “Do I?”

  “You do.”

  A young woman sauntered past the hot tub wearing a glittery pink bikini that had less coverage than a Chihuahua’s collar. Such a mystery why girls liked to shave everything these days. Perhaps there was some connection to that gluten-free business.

  Hugo didn’t even glance at her. “Let’s say I do. How do you feel about it?”

  “How do I feel about how you feel, or how do I feel about you?” she asked.

  He picked up his Coke. Lifted it to his lips. “Either one.”

  “It depends what it means to you.”

  There was another long pause before he spoke. “What are you asking? I’m confused.”

  “Makes two of us.” She sank deeper into the water, putting her ears in, and listened to the roar of the jets for a few seconds. Then she popped back up. “How long have you been fantasizing about living with me?”

  He closed his eyes. “What difference does that make?”

  “Because if you had this seductive vision before you fell in love with me, then we could find you somebody else,” she said. “Because it’s not me you really want under your roof, or her roof, just a warm body. With a little work, you could transfer those feelings to another woman.”

  “The feelings I have for you aren’t transferable.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I’m sure,” he said.

  “You don’t even like that house of yours. Maybe all you really need is to find a new place of your own.”

  Hugo floated closer, his arm stretched out behind her on the edge of the pool. “Only if it’s got you in it.”

  “Forget me. Don’t look like that, I know it’s impossible, but work with me. Hypothetically. Maybe all you really want is a little change of scene, a little sex, something to fight off the nasty feeling that you’re going to die sooner than you’d like.”

  “I love you,” he said. “You, Trixie. I’ll take you however I can get you. If you’re not ready to live together, I’ll wait. I’ll take whatever you give me.”

  Even surrounded by six swimming pools, her mouth went dry. She fumbled for her daiquiri and sucked it down.

  That was that. Finally, she was convinced. After all these years, she’d finally slipped.

  What was the saying? Every man who was his own lawyer had a fool for a client. Well, every woman who was her own matchmaker was the fool. She’d thought she could manage her own love life, assuming, genius that she was, she had plenty of talent and skill to navigate the pitfalls. And here was the proof of how wrong she’d been.

  So very wrong.

  She put down her plastic cocktail glass and floated into Hugo’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “All right, you win. We can get married in the morning.”

  10

  Hugo laughed and fondled her thighs under the bubbles.

  “I’m not kidding,” Trixie said, looking up at the darkening sky. Well, the sun had set—it wasn’t ever dark around here. To her delight, she saw the massive light beam shoot out of the top of the Luxor like a long blue lightsaber. She’d read about it in her travel guide. “It’s the biggest bug attraction in the world. The bugs come for the light, the bats come for the bugs, and the owls come for the bats. Isn’t that something?”

  “You’re something.”

  “I thought we could pick out one of those quickie places with Elvis,” she said.

  “Don’t tease me.”

  “Somebody needs to,” she said. “But I’m not. If you want me, this is how you get me.”

  “You don’t want to live together without getting married first?”

  “I don’t care about that. But you do.”

  “I do?”

  She floated off his lap and stole a sip from his Coke. “I’m just a few steps ahead of you. It’s better this way.”

  “You’re panicking,” he said.

  “I’m giving up, that’s all.”

  “Great.”

  “Don’t sound so depressed. You’ve won me. You should be happy.” She regarded him suspiciously. “Or were you all talk?”

  “This is another desperate attempt to scare me away,” he said. “You think I’ll freak out and take off and your life will go back to normal.”

  “My life was never normal.”

  “Back to the way it was,” he said.

  “I think you’ll marry me, we’ll take a few days to make sure it sticks, which it will, and then we go back home and blow everyone’s mind.”

  “Just like that.”

  “It’s been seven years, Hugo. How much time do you need?”

  Hugo refused to believe her. After a few minutes arguing in the hot tub, she gave up trying to convince him, got out of the water, and dried off while he leered up at her mostly naked body.

  She winked at him. “I’d better get myself a dress. Big day tomorrow. Shops must be open late around here, don’t you think?”

  He climbed out of the water. “I’m sure they are.”

  “Do you mind if I leave you alone for a few hours? I’ll try to be quick.”

  “Because you’ll be shopping for a wedding dress,” he said flatly.

  “Exactly. Maybe you could book us a place to do the deed. I really would like Elvis. Ideally it’ll be one that can play the ukulele, but that might be too much to ask for on such short notice.”

  “Ukulele.”

  “Cleo loves the ukulele, and we need something to drag those two out of bed in the morning. They’ll be tired.”

  “They’re getting married too?” he asked.

  “Please, they haven’t even slept together yet.” She pulled her terry cover-up over her head. “Sly will need to ply her with liquor first. That’ll take at least a few hours.”

  “Why not see if we can find a place for later tonight? Then the four of us can all do it at the same time. Maybe get a bulk discount.”

  “Too soon. Weren’t you listening? Or is it just your aging ears?” She held his face in both hands and spoke loudly and slowly. “This is their big night.”

  “How about tomorrow morning for them, too, then?” he asked. “When I call around to book the place, I’ll need to know how many people we’re talking about here.”

  “Hugo, you’re a sweet, intelligent man, but let’s face it, you’re no matchmaker.” Seriously, what was he smoking? Sly and Cleo weren’t ready to get married so soon. “They’ll be our witnesses. But we don’t want to distract them tonight, so we’ll call them in the morning.”

  After he escorted her back to their suite, she showered and dressed quickly, eager to get out to the stores to find something that wasn’t too fussy or expensive. Her first wedding—well, she wouldn’t think about that. It was another time, another world, and she was a different person.

  “I’ll order us room service,” he said. “You’ll be needing something other than crepes before you go to bed.”

  She was at the door, slinging a purse over her shoulder. “That’s very considerate of you, honey. We’ll be too nervous in the morning for a proper breakfast, so we should eat up tonight.” Stepping into the hallway, she realized she’d put her Crocs on the wrong feet. No wonder they felt funny. While she kicked them off to correct her error, sh
e called out to Hugo, who was holding the door open, “Don’t forget about the ukulele.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said.

  11

  Although Hugo booked the chapel and admired her wedding outfit —“you’d be beautiful in a Hefty bag, doesn’t matter what you wear”—Trixie suspected he still thought she was bluffing. At dawn the next morning, he barely stirred when she rose and got ready for their big day. If he’d believed she was serious, he would’ve bolted awake with a stomachache. Just like she had.

  She jabbed him in the shoulder. The sheets were tangled around his hips, but she wouldn’t look down there or she might lose track of time. They had to get moving.

  “They won’t wait for us if we’re late,” she said, poking him again. “We only get an hour, right? That’s what the email said.” She’d demanded a printout, just to make sure he hadn’t lied about booking the place.

  “An hour. Right. We wouldn’t want to miss our own wedding.” He yawned.

  “I’ll make coffee while you get dressed.”

  He gave her a drowsy smile, reaching for her. “That’s so nice.”

  She jumped up and tore off the sheet. “I hope Sly doesn’t mind paying for a few things from the mini bar.” A little booze in her purse would help her get a grip in front of Elvis.

  Stifling a giggle, she turned away from his naked body. Her nerves were already starting to fray. Hugo might not realize it, but they were really going to do this.

  Marriage was what she wanted, but the rip-the-bandage-off-quickly method was necessary. For her, for him. For their families. Even the dogs. Now or never.

  He stared at her, his short hair slightly compressed on one side, like golf course turf flattened by a breeze. Belatedly, his gaze sharpened as he came fully awake. “What time is it?”

  “Time to get ready.” She took in a deep breath and held it, counting to three. All these years. All the loneliness, all the freedom, all coming to an end.

  I’m ready. She let out her breath and smiled.

  “Guess I’ll take a shower,” he said as he rolled out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom.