Still The One

by Joan Reeves

  His eyes swept her from her head to her red shoes. He let out a low whistle. "Wow."

  "Is this okay for where we are going?" she asked, knowing it was. All her preparations and primping had been worth it. She basked in the glow of his appreciation.

  "I can't think of anything you'd look better in." He could, but he didn't think she'd be receptive to his suggesting she model the sheets on his bed.

  "You really meant you were going to make me pay through the nose," Burke said cheerfully.

  "I have credit cards," Ally said.

  "Well, I hope you didn't use it to purchase that outfit." He liked the idea that he'd bought her clothes. He wondered if she had on red silk lingerie to match the sexy dress. The prospect of that gave him something new to fantasize about.

  "If for no other reason, let’s say I owe you," Burke said. "When we were married, I didn’t have enough money to even buy you a dress at a discount store."

  "I’m glad you’ve done so well," Ally said, softly, rather shyly. She felt inordinately proud of his success.

  "Thanks. I can’t say I did it alone. Tiffany was part of the success as well as Dave and Craig and the others you'll meet tonight."

  "Oh, yes, Tiffany," Ally said, feeling a twinge of jealousy at his championing the incomparable Tiffany.

  The doorbell chimed. "That's probably for me," she said breathlessly. Suddenly, she wished that she hadn't asked Preston to come. These moments when she and Burke were together and at peace were oddly appealing. "I'm, uh, expecting a friend." Ally had a feeling of foreboding and wished she hadn't set this up.

  She hurried to the door. She knew Burke followed. When she threw open the door and saw Preston standing there, she had deep misgivings. He looked as if he'd just stepped off the cover of a men's magazine.

  With jet black hair and captivating blue eyes, Preston was by far the most handsome man she'd ever known. But, to her, he paled in comparison to Burke, she decided, seeing the two men together for the first time.

  "Hey, Ally Cat," Preston said, giving her his devil-may-care grin. She looked over her shoulder and met Burke's stormy eyes. She'd made a serious error in judgment.

  Ally embraced him the same as she would have any friend. "Preston, how nice of you to come."

  "Ally! Darling!" Preston pulled her into his arms and planted a kiss on her. Then his eyes opened. Ally went cross-eyed looking into his blue eyes. He winked. He proceeded to ignore Ally's pleading face.

  "What's going on here?" Burke demanded.

  Ally looked over her shoulder at him. His face looked like a thunder cloud.

  Nervous, Ally took Preston's arm and pulled him into the house. "Oh, Burke, this is Preston Kesey. My friend. From Dallas."

  "Hey," Preston said, extending his hand.

  Burke eyed his hand as if it held some exotic poison. Then he took it and did his best to mangle it. Unfortunately, Ally's friend was stronger than he looked. The two men grunted and mutually backed off.

  "Nice to meet you, Winslow," Preston said, grinning.

  Burke grunted. "Yeah. Same here, Pesto."

  "Preston," Ally corrected. "I called Preston today to ask him to take care of my apartment. We, uh, got to talking, and one thing led to another, and here he is," she finished with a bright smile.

  "Yeah," Preston said. "You know how it is. We just couldn't stand to be away from each other." He brushed a kiss against Ally's cheek, but she jerked, and he ended up with a mouth full of hair.

  "Get your hands and your mouth off my wife!" Burke snapped.

  Preston grinned lazily. "Hey, be cool, man. She might be your wife, but she's my girl friend."

  That pronouncement made matters worse. Oh, why had she thought this was a good idea? Ally jumped into the breach. "Now, Burke, you wouldn't begrudge me a friend of my own would you? After all, you've got Dave, and Craig, and your brother, and Tiffany.

  Ah, Tiffany, Burke thought. So that's what this was about. He should have known he would be in store for some payback. What, had she come straight home and called old Piston to come down here? How sly. How conniving. So she wanted to play games, huh? Burke decided he'd be nice if it killed him. It shouldn't be that difficult now that he knew the game that was afoot.

  "Forgive me. I didn't realize at first who you were." You're her special friend from Dallas, aren't you?"

  "Special?" Preston repeated. His eyes laughed at Ally. He reached out and caught a lock of hair and curled it around his finger. "Yeah, I guess I am. Not too many friends would go to such lengths, would they, Ally Cat?"

  Her eyes promised him that she would get him back for this.

  "So we're supposed to go to dinner, aren't we?" Preston asked.

  Burke was tempted to say the drop-in visitor wasn't invited. "Yes, we are. Did you come in a rental car, Piston?"

  "That's Preston," Ally said. Preston just grinned at Burke as if he found something amusing. "Sure did."

  Burke scowled. "Well, just leave it out front. We'll take what's left of my Jag. You and Ally can squeeze together up front and catch up on the last few days you've been apart. This should be a great evening!"

  Burke was determined to act as if nothing was wrong. On the one hand, he thought Ally's transparent scheme hilarious. On the other though, he didn't appreciate that oaf mauling her in front of him.

  Ally had never had a more uncomfortable thirty minutes in her life than the half hour it took to get from Burke's house to the restaurant. She sat crushed between the two large men, scared to death that Preston would say something to give away her ruse. But Preston performed like a trooper. If anything, he had played his role a little too well.

  Burke looked as if he had a severe case of indigestion by the time he handed the Jag's keys to the valet at the popular Mexican restaurant. "Don't bother being careful with it," he muttered.

  The restaurant looked like Hollywood's version of a 1930's Mexican village. Colored lights outlined the roof. Faded murals and advertisements adorned the artistically patched stucco walls. Cactus and huge pots of begonias and petunias dotted the courtyard.

  A mariachi band added to the noisy level, but Ally didn't mind. If it were really noisy, maybe she wouldn't have to make conversation with Preston. She knew her friend was going to tease her mercilessly about this.

  Her brow wrinkled as she tried to remember back to the night at the church. Why had she thought it necessary to convince Burke that she had a lover? It was his fault, she decided, because of Tiffany. All she wanted was to get out of this ridiculous situation and go home.

  The manager of the restaurant led them to the back where tables had been set up. Ally walked between Burke and Preston, feeling as if she were a prisoner being escorted to her last meal.

  Ally looked at the people lining the tables and cried, "Granny! What are you doing here?"

  "Your nice young man invited me," the attractive silver-haired woman said. She turned to Frederick Winslow and smiled. "Your grandson is so thoughtful."

  "Yep," Frederick agreed. "Like grandfather, like grandson."

  "Mrs. Fletcher, it's wonderful to see you again. I'm so glad you could come," Burke said. He held Ally's chair, but Preston had pulled one out also.

  Ally looked at the two chairs and thought. It's going to be a long, long evening.

  The evening turned out to be one of the most frustrating that Ally had ever spent. On the one hand, she loved being there with people she cared about but hadn’t seen much of in recent years, like her grandmother, Burke’s grandfather, Rod, Dave, and Craig. Even Burke, she thought grudgingly.

  On the other hand, by the time she’d finished her meal of fajitas, she was ready to do violence to her husband-in-name-only. He had spent the evening ignoring her and flirting with Tiffany. She’d never seen him behave so . . . so revoltingly romantic.

  The first time he’d leaned toward Tiffany and whispered with his mouth a half inch from the woman's ear, Ally had wanted to jerk him away from her. As the evening wore on, she'd had to get
used to the intimate laughs Burke and Tiffany had shared. The whispers they'd exchanged. She was sick of watching him murmur sweet nothings in the woman's ear.

  Tiffany's laughter grated on her nerves. Each time, she laughed, she covered her mouth, as if to suppress it, then she would smile encouragingly at Burke. She welcomed his attentions. Obviously, they had kissed and made up after the foiled wedding. In fact, Ally guessed she was witnessing their making up. Whoopee, she thought sourly. Lucky me!

  It was totally disgusting, she decided, leaning over quickly as if she’d dropped her napkin. Her maneuver successfully eluded Preston’s lips. During the long evening, she’d developed radar where her friend was concerned. It was a toss up as to which man was being the most infuriating. Burke with his open flirtation or Preston who seemed determined to treat Ally to the same romantic attention that Burke was bestowing on Tiffany.

  To think, she had worried about being able to persuade Preston to act loverly. Heck, if he acted any more loverly, she’d have him arrested.

  Just then Preston’s head popped down next to hers. "We’ve got to stop meeting like this," he said, grinning like an idiot.

  "I thought I dropped my napkin," Ally said.

  "Guess not, huh?"

  Ally started to raise up but Preston stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Say, Ally Cat, what’s the story on Tiffany?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Is she truly spoken for?"

  "Draw your own conclusion. My husband can’t seem to keep his hands off her."

  Preston grinned. "Yeah. I noticed. Good."

  "Good? I’d say it’s disgusting and revolting."

  Ally heard a chair scrape on the ceramic tile and then Burke’s head joined hers and Preston’s near the floor.

  "What’s going on here?" Burke asked.

  "Ally Cat just wanted a private word with me, Bark," Preston said.

  "The name is Burke, Percy."

  "Oh, right, right. Well, if you two will excuse me, all the blood’s rushing to my head. I think I’ll just walk around and get acquainted with the other guests." Preston raised up and scooted his chair back.

  "Ally Cat, huh?" Burke huffed. "And just how did you get that nickname?"

  "Use your imagination," Ally said nastily. She sat back up and drew a deep breath. She saw that Preston had walked over to chat with Rod.

  Burke raised up and turned back to Tiffany. Ally tried not to watch, but this time, he didn’t touch her or talk to her. Instead, he talked across her to his grandfather.

  Ally tried to ignore him. She chatted with her grandmother across the table. Granny Edith seemed to be having a great time. She’d laughed and talked with Frederick much of the evening. Maybe the two of them did have a lot in common.

  Ally heard Burke make a comment about the upcoming vacation that Frederick had scheduled.

  "Oh, Granddad," Ally said, "You’re going on a cruise too?"

  At his nod, she said, "So is my grandmother. She went on one last year and had a ball."

  "Granddad went on one last year too," Burke said. "Where did you go, Mrs. Fletcher?"

  Edith Fletcher waved her hand. "Oh, just one of those package deals. I forget the places we stopped."

  "But I thought you said you had so much fun you were booking the same one this year?" Ally asked. Then, to her amazement, Granny blushed. She didn’t think she’d ever seen her grandmother blush before. To her further surprise, the woman said, "Oh, dear me, it’s way past my bedtime. I think I need to be going." She thanked Burke, said her goodbyes, stood up, and left. Just like that. Ally looked at her watch. It wasn’t quite ten o’clock. She’d never known Granny Edith to go to bed before one in the morning. It was a standing joke. She was the night owl of the family.

  After a few minutes, Frederick stood. "I think I’ll follow suit. This party is for you young people. An old codger like me needs to be in bed to get my beauty sleep."

  Burke watched him leave. "I’m worried about him, Rod," he said across the table.

  "Do you think he feels all right?" Ally asked, concerned also.

  "I think he feels too good," Rod said, chuckling.

  "What do you mean?" Burke asked.

  "I mean, he’s in love," Rod said with a satisfied grin.

  "No!" Burke scoffed. "What ever gave you that idea?"

  "Because I walked into the kitchen yesterday and overheard him on the phone. He was making a late date for tonight. He may be headed to bed, but not necessarily his own. If you get my drift."

  "Well, I’ll be damned." Burke whistled low. "That sly old dog." He looked up at Rod. "Do you know who she is?"

  "Nope. And he’s not telling. He told me to mind my p’s and q’s and keep my mouth shut."

  Ally wished her grandmother could find someone like Frederick. Granny Edith had been alone since Ally was a child. She started to voice that comment, but her attention was distracted by Preston who had made his way around the table and now settled into the chair next to Tiffany. Her mouth snapped closed.

  What was it about that woman that drew every man? Sure she was beautiful and built, but, Ally thought resentfully, did Preston have to fall for her also?

  Everyone seemed paired off in close conversations. Only she and Burke were at loose ends. Looking around, she decided that she liked this disparate group that composed the executive corps of Burke's company. It was an interesting mix of men and women of all ages. Some younger than Burke, some older. They appeared to be the brightest in terms of computer application and design, from what she’d heard discussed at the table.

  To a person, they’d accepted her at face value as if there were nothing out of the ordinary about a wife who popped up after a six-year absence.

  Judging by the wide grins, she figured the story of her appearance at Burke’s wedding had made the rounds. She was fortunate they bore no animosity the way Tiffany did.

  * * *

  "Hi, I'm Preston Kesey. So tell me, Tiffany, how did you get mixed up with this bunch?"

  Tiffany stared into the man's sapphire blue eyes and couldn't look away. Her brain seemed to shut down because she found herself unable to form a coherent thought. From the moment he'd walked in, she'd been mesmerized by him. He was quite possibly the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Her brain might have shut down, but her heart was pounding so hard that she feared she’d have a heart attack if it didn’t slow.

  Never comfortable with small talk, she usually discussed business. Either her own or the business world in general. "What do you think about the falling interest rates in the bond market?" she asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

  Preston hadn’t blinked as he looked into her eyes, as green as oak leaves on a spring morning. To him, she was perfect in every way. He'd like to paint her. In the nude. Something about her had him acting bolder than he ever had with a woman he'd just met. He reached out and touched her hand. Sliding his fingers up the soft skin, he encircled her wrist. He felt the wild pulse pounding there. It told him all he needed to know.

  "I think you and I have a lot in common," he said, feeling his own response to her nearness.

  Tiffany studied his mouth and wondered how it would feel next to hers. She’d never had a thought like that before in all her twenty-six years. Even today when she'd kissed Burke, she hadn't felt anything. She'd only done it to piss off Ally, and to give Burke a hard time.

  "I have an MBA in Finance," she whispered. "And I’m the co-owner of this company," she said, breathlessly.

  Preston’s eyes dropped to her lips. He caressed them with his eyes, imagined wetting them with his tongue before sliding it into the warm, darkness of her delectable mouth.

  "I have a degree in Fine Art." He lifted her hand to his lips and burned a kiss onto the palm. Her hand shook.

  Tiffany felt heat streak through her.

  "I paint brilliant masterpieces that seldom sell," Preston whispered.

  Tiffany moved closer to him and wished she could get as close as possible with no
thing, not even clothes, between them. "You’re right," she murmured, "we do have a lot in common."

  * * *

  The waitress appeared just then to take drink refill orders.

  "Hang the instant fat," Ally told her. "I’ll have another frozen margarita. No salt."

  "What do you mean, instant fat?" Burke asked as soon as the waitress moved on.

  Ally was a little embarrassed that he had heard. She shrugged. "I usually limit myself to one drink. Alcohol is in that category of instant fat that I can generally do without."

  "Since when do you worry about calories? You’ve never had a weight problem."

  Ally laughed. "That shows how little you know about me."

  He turned his chair and gave her his full attention. "So tell me something I don’t know," he challenged.

  "All right. I will. Until my senior year in high school, I was fat."

  "Get out of town!" Burke’s expression said as clearly as his words that he didn’t believe her.

  "It’s true," Ally insisted.

  The waitress set their drinks in front of them. Each picked up the iced mug. Burke lifted his in salute. "To a successful conclusion to this deal," he toasted.

  Ally clicked her mug next to his. Her idea of a successful conclusion was undergoing a radical change. But that was her own fault for seeking him out. She sucked on the straw, drawing the delicious frozen concoction into her mouth. "This is wonderful. I love that slightly salty lime taste." She picked up the wedge of lime from the mug and bit into it. Then she licked the drops of lime juice from her lips.

  Burke thought he wouldn't be able to control himself. He wanted to taste that lime wedge too. From her tongue. "So tell me, if you were fat, how come you were thin as a rail when we met?" he managed to ask.

  "Before my senior year, I decided that I was tired of being Missy’s four-eyed, chubby little sister. Missy was always so gorgeous and so smart. I wasn’t anything like that."