No Law Against Love

by Deborah MacGillivray

  “Well, I’ll be darned,” she said, digging into her potatoes.

  “Let’s change the subject,” Mom said. “Tell us about your condo, Jason. What’s it like?”

  I described my condo and chitchatted with the family through dinner, but the word that hung heavy in my thoughts was ‘hottie.’ Yeah, Carli definitely fit that description. But she was more—thoughtful, sensitive, and…damn, I had to stop this right now.

  I went back to Athens around four, Saturday afternoon. I was hungry and didn’t have much to cook at home, so I headed to a little pub that has outdoor seating and good food. I’d planned to eat outside, but saw on the TV that the game I’d wanted to see was in full swing and in the third quarter. I pulled up a chair in direct view of the television and ordered a beer and pasta.

  “Excuse me, ladies,” Carli said. “I have to go speak to a friend.” Clearly Jason hadn’t seen her and a couple of her girlfriends at the booth on the opposite side of the room. She wasn’t going to let that stop her.

  “Who is that?” they whispered.

  “Control yourselves. I’ve got dibs on this one,” she said shaking her finger at them and scooting out of the booth.

  “Well, don’t hurry back on our account,” they chimed in, smiling broadly.

  The thought crossed Carli’s mind as she started toward him that he just might be meeting someone. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t approached her booth. Well, if that was the case, she’d speak politely to him and return to her friends.

  “Well, hi there, Coach.”

  She caught me off guard, and I thought I must have been thinking about her. But then I heard her again.

  “Coach?”

  I turned, nearly knocking over my beer, and saw her…an absolute vision in tight jeans and a turtleneck sweater. Good golly, that law ought to be against her, not her dressing some damn mannequin.

  “Hey, how are you?” I said, pushing back my chair and standing.

  “Great. You here for dinner or the game?” she asked, rocking back on her western boots.

  “Both, I guess. I just got in from my parent’s and didn’t have much to cook at home.” Then I looked down, finally getting all the way down to her feet. “Pretty fancy boots you got there. Been riding today?”

  “Nah,” she smiled, shrugging. “I just like boots.”

  “I see,” I said, nodding my head. I shifted my stance, took a deep breath and asked, “Are you alone?”

  “No,” she said, turning and motioning to a booth across the room. “I’m with a couple of girlfriends, but they won’t mind if you’re inviting me to join you.” She smiled that million-dollar smile and I felt like I’d just won the lotto.

  “That would be nice.” I pulled out a chair for her and asked what she’d like to drink or eat.

  She leaned her elbow on the table and looked directly at me. “What are you having?”

  “Pasta with garlic, mushrooms, and broccoli. Very healthy and very strong. Oh, and of course, a beer to even things out,” I said, laughing.

  “My kinda guy,” she said. “I’ll have the exact same thing.”

  Slamming my beer bottle down on the table, I almost choked. I couldn’t believe she’d just said that.

  While eating, we talked and laughed and watched a little of the game. She understood the plays and even yelled a time or two. Before we knew it, the evening had passed and it was after eleven.

  “I’d better get going,” Carli said, looking at her watch. “I’ve got a salesman coming early in the morning. I’ll need my power sleep.”

  “I thought buyers went to markets and that sort of thing.”

  She grimaced. “Believe me, I do enough of that. But this guy comes by the shop between markets, in case I’m running short. It really helps me a lot.”

  “Sounds like you like your work. That’s good.”

  “Yeah, I do. But you know what, it seems like we talked a lot about me tonight. Maybe next time you can fill me in on what makes you tick,” she said with a grin.

  “I’m on.” What really sounded good was the fact there could actually be another time.

  “Tell you what,” she said, with that hand on the hip pose again. “Now that I know you’re a pasta man, maybe I’ll whip you up one of my fabulous dishes. Do you have the nerve to try my cooking?”

  Did I ever! I’d try anything she cooked. “Sure. If you’re willing to slave away in the kitchen, I’m sure game,” I said, grinning from ear to ear.

  I swear, I didn’t remember feeling this deliriously happy in high school lust. Could this possibly be love? I’d always been deathly afraid of the ‘L’ word, but if this was a sample, man was I ready to tackle it.

  I walked Carli to her car and then drove to my condo. I had a hard time falling asleep. Every time I closed my eyes, her face appeared.

  ~~~

  Sunday morning came bright and shining. I’d found a nice little church nearby and after services I went by the grocery and then home for gourmet sandwiches and chips. I worked all afternoon on plays and viewing videos from opponents’ games I’d picked up from the athletic library. I showered and turned in early. I slept soundly and headed for the office early Monday morning.

  I’d only been at the office about thirty minutes when a police officer knocked on my door. I invited him in and he quickly informed me I was being arrested in the name of the Jaycee’s Jail and Bail Charity Drive.

  “What does that mean exactly?” I asked dubiously.

  “Well,” he laughed, “it means you get to sit in jail ‘til somebody comes and bails you out.”

  “Why me?” I asked, trying to control my temper.

  “I don’t know. Could be some of your players. Somebody volunteered you. Don’t matter. Fact is, you got to find somebody to get you out of there. You get three phone calls. Least that’s better than real jail rules. Come on now, don’t give me no problems, okay?”

  I was suspicious, to say the least. “Does this happen to a lot of people?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he laughed. “I’ve already picked up about ten people this morning.” He obviously thought this more humorous than I did.

  I snatched up my jacket and followed him out. When we arrived at the jail, I saw several other people from the university—all in the same predicament. It all became clear after talking with them and I got into the swing of things. They told me over $45,000 had been raised for the Jaycees last year. I decided being stuck here wasn’t too bad. But I still needed to find someone to bail me out for $150. The bad part was I had to stay put until I came up with the money and, they informed me, I couldn’t pay it myself. However, they smiled and said I could match it, if I felt so compelled.

  I walked up and down the cell, thinking how awful it would be to really be incarcerated. Who could I call? My parents would comply, of course, but they’d have to wire money or drive two and a half hours. Suddenly, a thought hit me. I would test my newest friend. Or whatever she was. At this point I really wasn’t sure. Anyway, I got the guard to look up CJ’s and dialed her number.

  “Good morning. CJ’s. How may I help you?”

  “Hi, Carli, it’s Jason. Jason Block.”

  “Well, hello. How are you?”

  “Actually, I’ve been better. I have a favor to ask. If you can’t do it, just say so. I’ll understand, really. I mean—”

  “Jason, for Pete’s sake, what is it?”

  “Well, I’m in jail.”

  “Jail? What happened?”

  “It seems some local yokel had me arrested so someone could go my bail to raise money for the charity drive the Jaycees are hosting. Have you ev…”

  She was laughing so hard, I couldn’t finish my sentence.

  “I’m sorry, Jason, they don’t usually get the newcomers.”

  “I’m glad one of us can laugh about it. You know, it’s pretty awful in here, even pretending. Look, I know I don’t know you very well…yet, I mean. But would you consider coming down here and bailing me out of this place?”


  “Well…I guess I could do that, but you’ll owe me…big time.”

  “Uh, oh. What does that mean?”

  “Ummm, I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of something worthwhile. Just how valuable are you?”

  “Not very. A cool hundred and fifty will do it.”

  She laughed that sultry laugh that lit my fire. “I’ll be right down.”

  And she was. I was out and back at the campus within the hour and she returned to her store. She refused to let me pay her back, declaring she’d rather me be indebted to her. Somehow, it made me feel real good.

  ~~~

  When Carli arrived at her business and saw the police car, she wondered what the problem was. As she walked in the door, she saw the officer, whom she knew quite well. “Hello, Jake. What’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry, Carli. Old lady Pearson called in on you. Said you were dressing your mannequin without pulling the blinds. I’d like to help you out, but it looks like you’re guilty.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the mannequin.

  “Good gosh, Jake. They picked up a friend of mine on the Jaycee’s bail and jail drive and I went to bail him out. Can’t you just let me pull the darn blinds?”

  “I would in a minute, but you know how mean that ole woman is. I’ll have to take you in. It’s just routine. Get someone to go your bail and you’ll be out of there in a heartbeat.”

  Carli picked up her handbag and headed for the squad car with Jake. She’d get that ole lady back if it took a hundred years! She’d tried to be nice to her, but she was just impossible! And this certainly proved it.

  ~~~

  I was sitting in my office going over paperwork on a new player when my phone rang.

  “Hi, Jason?”

  “Yeah, this is Jason.”

  “It’s Carli. Carli Jenkins.”

  “Oh, how are you?”

  “Well, not too good at the moment. You got $100 you can spare for awhile?”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “I’m in jail.”

  “They got you, too? That’s double teaming,” I said disgustedly.

  “Not exactly,” she sighed. “Listen, I’ll tell you about it when you get here, okay?”

  “Sure, Carli. I’ll be right there.”

  I wondered what the heck could have happened. The bail was pretty low, so it couldn’t be really bad, could it? I drove like a maniac getting there. I had to get Carli out of that place. It was horrible. I pulled in front of the police station and went inside.

  “Where is Carli Jenkins?” I asked the desk clerk. I signed the paperwork and waited until they brought her out. She looked okay, but very perturbed.

  “I’ll tell you when we get in the car,” she whispered.

  We got in the car, put on our seat belts and I started the engine. “Now,” I said, “what happened?”

  “When I got your call, I was in such a hurry I left the store without closing the blinds. Unfortunately, I wasn’t finished dressing the mannequin.” She smiled, a wicked gleam lighting her eyes. “I left her naked from the waist up. While I was gone, one of my competitors from across town apparently drove by and saw her. It was just the opening she needed to complain about me.”

  I frowned. “Surely the police didn’t take her call seriously.”

  “They had to,” she continued. “It’s the law, and I did leave a naked woman in my window.”

  She continued to tell me the story of the old lady who apparently no one liked and whose business was practically nonexistent. She was just a bitter old lady.

  “On the other hand, I really feel sorry for her,” Carli said. “I think I’ll go over and visit her and see if I can help out some way.”

  “Carli, the old bag just cost you $100. And you want to help her?”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, no, she just cost you $100. But yes, I think I do want to help. I was very angry with her at first, but I don’t think she has any family left and not many friends. Besides, it’s Christmas. Would you want to be alone?” A gleam lit her eyes. “You want to help me out with this project? If you do, I won’t charge you the extra fifty bucks you owe me, and we’ll be even-Stephen. What d’ya say?” She sat there, with brows raised, grinning, and looking innocent.

  What could I say, but yes. “Carli, do you see this as some sort of long-term commitment? Me bailing you out…you bailing me out? This sort of thing?”

  “Absolutely, Coach. I knew the first day I met you, we’d be on the same team.”

  Be sure to check out Jeanne’s website

  www.jeannevanarsdall.com

  A Toast to the Bride and Groom

  Victoria Oliveri

  • Pennsylvania - A couple cannot legally marry if either participant is inebriated

  Downingtown, Pennsylvania 1839

  Dreadful. The only word that came to her mind in view of her current situation was dreadful. Maryette Browning sat at the table clutching the napkin in her lap until her fingers felt they would bleed as her father paced the room around her like a slobbering wolf. Her mother, pillar of society that she was, sat implausibly silent across from her as her father rattled on.

  “Master Westbrook is a prominent businessman. He has over two hundred acres in Coventry and purebreds at New London. I see no reason why you shouldn’t accept his proposal.”

  “Father, I know nothing of this man. Do you expect me to marry a complete stranger?” Eyeing her mother, she hoped she would come to her defense, but her father silenced her.

  “You have no other choice. Tell her, Mother.”

  “Your father is right, dearest. Marrying Westbrook would be a coup for you. You would finally come into society the way you always should have.”

  “Society? This is about society? Is that all either of you care about? What of love, Mother?” she asked, looking from her mother and then back to her father, who rolled his eyes wildly before he threw himself into the seat at the head of the table, his corpulent face flushed and sweaty.

  “You’re being childish, Maryette,” her father said as he cut into his steak. “The man has offered for your hand, I’ve given my permission and that’s the end of it.”

  “Father,” Maryette pleaded, but it was useless. Her father’s adamant look was all she needed to see. She bowed her head, admitting defeat.

  “You’ll see, dearest. Master Westbrook will be a wonderful husband. You’ll have a beautiful new house in the country. It will be brilliant for you.”

  “Yes, Mother,” she answered dully. Folding her napkin, she placed it on her plate. “May I be excused? I wish to take a turn to get some air and clear my head.”

  “Yes, that would be fine, my dear,” her mother said.

  “Be sure to return before candle-light,” her father barked as he looked up at her, juice dripping from his chin. “One thing this family does not need is scandal.”

  Maryette stood and smoothed out her skirts. Disgusted, she headed for the door where she pulled on her fichu and checked herself in the mirror. Earlier that morn, her long, chestnut hair had been pulled back into a chignon and circled with a string of braids that ended with a soft cascade of ringlets down her neck. Turning her head from side to side to ensure everything was still in place, she thought to wear a hat, but decided she would do without and grabbed her parasol instead, before heading out into the afternoon sunshine.

  She opened the fanciful sunshade as she stepped onto the porch and a strong, autumn breeze caught the fragile Battenberg lace and tore the handle from her grip, sending it spiraling through the air. With a yelp, Maryette leapt down the stairs and up the dusty street chasing the parasol as it tumbled overhead in the breeze. As the wind died, the parasol dove to the ground. Catching her off guard, she tripped over it and found herself embarrassingly sprawled in the middle of the street. Before she could come to her senses and quickly brush her skirts back down over her petticoats, a leather-gloved hand had reached down to help her to her feet.

  “Are you all rig
ht, Miss?” The deep, resonant tones came to her as she looked up, shielding her eyes with one hand to peer up at the man through the bright sunshine.

  “Yes, quite,” she said, a bit humiliated as she stood and brushed the dirt from her dress, then turned to watch her parasol roll down the street. “Oh no!”

  “Not to worry,” the man called over his shoulder as he dashed down the street, catching it moments before it tumbled into a nearby stream. He unfurled the lacy umbrella and shook the dirt from its delicate fabric as he made his way back to her.

  “A bit worse for wear, I fear, but I believe it is still usable,” he said, handing it back to her.

  Maryette took the parasol thankfully and gave the man a quick curtsy. “Thank you, Sir. That was most kind of you.”

  “’Tis the least I could do to help a damsel in distress.” He nodded politely, moving to where he’d hastily dropped the reins of his horse.

  Maryette smiled up at the man, realizing quite unexpectedly how striking he was, not only in action but in style and countenance. His well-fit trousers were tucked neatly into his smart riding boots and his tailcoat displayed his muscled, broad shoulders and slim waist in a most appealing way. It was then she wished she’d worn her hat, so she could hide the blush flaming her cheeks as she gazed at this handsome and effortlessly charming stranger.

  “I wish there was some way I could repay you, Sir, for a gesture so kind.” She immediately wished she hadn’t said a word as he turned to meet her gaze and the smile he gave was surely her undoing.

  “Perhaps there is a way,” he offered, his voice smooth as silk as he stepped closer, sending an uncontrollable shiver through her. The way his eyes made a wicked sweep of her body was indecent, but she could not turn away from him. Instead, she stood her ground, no matter how her knees quivered.

  “I assure you, Sir, I am a respectable young woman.”

  The man chuckled wryly and tipped his hat to her.

  “No doubt you are, Miss. I thought nothing less. What I would request of you is your assistance, nothing more.”