The Man She Married

by Ann DeFee

  “I’m available. Do you prefer morning or afternoon?”

  “Any time is good.”

  “Why don’t we go back to the office? I’ll check the appointment book.”

  Maizie tossed the racket into her sports duffel and followed him across the court to the sports complex.

  “I’m dying of thirst. How about you?” Trip asked as they passed an outdoor snack kiosk.

  She’d glowed so much she probably didn’t have a drop of moisture left in her system. “I’m pretty sure I’m dehydrated.”

  “I’ll buy you a Coke.”

  “Thanks.”

  Thirty minutes later, Trip glanced at his watch. “As much as I’ve enjoyed this, we need to scoot on over to the office to set up your lesson.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve kept you.” During their conversation Maizie had discovered they were close to the same age and amazingly they enjoyed many of the same things and even had some mutual acquaintances. Making a new friend was like scoring a great bargain—it was a ton of fun. And then there was always the jealousy angle.

  Chapter Nine

  That was the start of Maizie’s obsession with tennis. If she wasn’t at the boutique, she was on the court. Maizie took group lessons, semiprivate lessons and even a couple of privates. She was fixated on serves, volleys, approach shots and lobs, and she did them over and over again.

  Following almost every lesson she’d head over to the club for a soft drink. It was a great way to meet some of the newcomers to Magnolia Bluffs, and Trip almost always joined the party. He was funny, charming and delightful to be around.

  Clay didn’t understand any of it, Liza said she was being obsessive and PJ was getting irritated. She didn’t appreciate the fact her boss was AWOL more often than not.

  Maizie couldn’t explain her new passion, other than it made her feel young and competitive. She was toning up, getting a killer tan and had made a great new friend in Trip.

  Occasionally she wondered what Clay had wanted to talk to her about. For some reason that escaped her memory, they hadn’t been able to make it to dinner. And after that one incident he’d withdrawn so much that now she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  In this case, however, ignorance wasn’t bliss. If they were going to save their marriage, they both had to come clean. By gosh, if he was having an affair she’d make him rue the day he was born. But truthfully she couldn’t imagine Clay philandering.

  For her part, Maizie realized the jealousy scheme would never have worked anyway. Clay wasn’t around enough to know if someone was flirting with her. Looking back on it, Maizie now acknowledged it had been a really bad idea.

  EVERYTHING—AT LEAST THE professional side of her life—came to a head almost two weeks into her intense lessons. Maizie had just arrived at the boutique when PJ confronted her about the tennis absences. That’s when Maizie decided she had to focus on her business and her marriage. She’d been a selfish twit, but no more. The fun was over. It was time to grow up, and to prove it she canceled all her upcoming lessons.

  Maizie was busy patting herself on the back when the phone rang.

  “You’re one hard chick to track down.” Liza didn’t mince words.

  “And hello to you, too.”

  “Kenni and I will be there in ten minutes. We wanted to take you to lunch but with your tennis lessons, and work and whatever, we haven’t had any luck getting hold of you.”

  Maizie hated to spoil Liza’s tirade so she didn’t bother to beg off. “I’m here, so come on over.”

  TEN MINUTES LATER LIZA and Kenni marched into Miss Scarlett’s like a couple of avenging angels. PJ took one look at them and skedaddled off for a break. “I’m going to lunch.” She grabbed her purse and was out the door in a flash.

  “I think we need chocolate,” Liza announced. “Are you using the same hiding place for the good stuff?”

  Oh, this was going to be fun. “Yep, third cabinet from the left, top shelf.”

  Kenni made herself at home on the fainting couch.

  Maizie sat down with her cousin. “So, what’s the emergency?”

  “We, uh, we wanted to—”

  “We’re here for an intervention.” Liza tossed a bag of Lindt truffles on the table.

  Maizie hadn’t seen that one coming. “An intervention? What are you nitwits talking about? I’m not an alcoholic.”

  “No, but you’re making a huge mistake and we refuse to sit back and let you ruin your marriage,” Kenni said.

  Liza popped a chocolate in her mouth. “Hence, the intervention.”

  “Why do you think I’m ruining my marriage?”

  Kenni glanced at Liza before speaking. “We think your idea to make Clay jealous is dangerous. You have to stop it.”

  At first Maizie was flabbergasted, then she found it funny. “Have I told you guys that I love you?”

  “Not lately,” Liza said. “And I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.”

  “I’m trying to tell you that I already ditched my idea to make Clay jealous. It was dumb.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” Liza agreed. “So if you’re not trying to get Clay’s attention, what’s with all the tennis?”

  Maizie shot her twin her best “duh” look. “I’m playing tennis because it makes me feel good. They’re called exercise-induced endorphins.”

  Kenni snorted. “Exercise-induced endorphins? Holy smoke. Who are you and what did you do with my cousin?”

  “Yeah, where’s my sister?”

  “Stuff it, both of you. Hand over the chocolate,” Maizie said, grabbing the bag of Swiss candy. “Besides, I’ve already decided to cut back on my tennis time. I’ll admit it, I’ve become obsessed, and I’ve been neglecting my other obligations, but no more.”

  Chapter Ten

  Several hours later Maizie was straightening the racks when the bell over the door jangled. She was expecting PJ to return from an errand so she didn’t bother to look up.

  “Would you watch the front while I go unpack our new inventory?” she asked.

  “Are you going to pay me?” The voice was male and very familiar. It should be—she’d spent almost every day for the past two weeks with him.

  “Hey, Trip. What can I do for you?”

  The tennis pro leaned against the counter. “I thought I’d drop by to see if the rumor was true. Have you really cancelled all your lessons?”

  “Sorry, it’s true.” Maizie shrugged. “I decided I needed to spend more time on my real job, especially since I probably won’t make the pro tour.”

  “Yeah, there is that,” he agreed, not bothering to hide his grin. “Think of it this way, you’re getting a lot of vitamin D. What’s more important than that?”

  “Sometimes you have to make priorities, and unfortunately this is one of those occasions.”

  “Do you think you might come back in the future?”

  “Maybe later,” Maizie said with a laugh. “PJ wasn’t happy about my being gone so much. And I can’t afford to irritate her—she’s indispensible. So there went the tennis, at least for now.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Yeah, it is. I really enjoyed the lessons, even if you did make me sweat.” And even if she was a middle-aged woman with melting makeup in a bevy of hot young things half her age.

  “Did you come in to see me or are you on another shopping expedition?” Maizie realized that sounded flirtatious, which she was supposed to be avoiding, but it didn’t mean a thing. Flirting was in her blood.

  Trip made a show of smacking his forehead. “Oh, right. I need a present for, uh, my mother.”

  “What’s the occasion?” Maizie asked. “The last time you were here you were buying her a birthday present.”

  “What can I say? I’m a good son. She’s going on a cruise and I thought I’d send her a bon voyage gift.”

  Although Maizie didn’t quite believe him, she never turned away a paying customer. “Is there anything she needs?”

  “
Who?”

  “Your mother.”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you just show me some things, and then let me take you to lunch?”

  “Sure, why not?” She went out to eat with friends all the time. “PJ will be back shortly. In the meantime we can give that credit card of yours a workout.”

  CLAY WASN’T PARTICULARLY HUNGRY but his partner Harvey Tucker was craving deep-fried onion rings. That’s how they ended up in the dimly lit dining room of the Dixie Draught, Magnolia Bluffs’ only brew pub.

  “Is that Maizie back there?” Harvey asked, peering into the gloomy recesses of the bar. “And who’s she with?”

  “Where?”

  “That way.” He indicated a booth at the rear of the restaurant. When Clay’s eyes adjusted, he realized Harv was right. That was Maizie, but who was the dude? No time like the present to find out. He walked purposefully toward them, Harv trailing in his wake.

  “You don’t mind if we join you, do you?” Clay asked his wife, not giving her a chance to answer before he squeezed into the booth next to her.

  “I’m Maizie’s husband, Clay Walker. And you are?” The question was more of a demand than a request. Clay knew he was being rude, but after spying his wife in a têteà-tête with a handsome stranger, he simply didn’t care.

  “Harv, sit down. We’re going to join my wife and her friend.” Although his partner looked as if he’d rather dine with terrorists, he reluctantly complied.

  “Clay!” Maizie jabbed him in the side with her elbow. “Be nice. This is my tennis coach, Trip Fitzgerald. And, Trip, this jerk is my husband.”

  “Glad to meet you,” Trip said with a smile.

  “Yeah, you, too.”

  What else could Clay say? He was so jealous he couldn’t see straight. That was the reason he’d messed up royally. God, he was afraid he was losing his wife.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ever since the fiasco in the brew pub the atmosphere in the Walker household had been so tense you could cut it with a knife. Yes, Clay was jealous, but the reality wasn’t as thrilling as Maizie had imagined when she started her stupid scheme. And thanks to Mama they were now unwilling participants in a country club fund-raiser.

  “When can we go home?” Clay whispered.

  “We can leave after the auction. I donated a makeover and I want to see who wins it.”

  Clay pulled on his collar as if it was choking him. “Okay,” he reluctantly agreed.

  “Stop that.” Maizie swatted her husband’s hand. The man cleaned up quite nicely. In fact, he was absolutely gorgeous in his charcoal suit with the crisp white shirt and silk tie. Actually in his normal attire of faded jeans and chambray shirt he was mighty fine, too. It was a shame she was still to mad at him to tell him so.

  “You know how I hate these dress-up things,” he groused.

  Maizie opened her mouth for a rebuke when someone ran a finger down her bare back.

  “What—” It took a couple of seconds to process what was happening and another heartbeat to think, “Oh, crap.”

  Maizie turned so fast she smacked Clay with her purse. “Trip, what are you doing here?”

  “I work—”

  “Get your hands off my wife, pretty boy.” Clay pushed Maizie aside to confront Trip.

  “Stop it!” The last thing Maizie needed was a brawl at the country club. Mama would have a fit.

  Though Trip briefly looked taken aback he quickly recovered. “Mr. Walker, it’s nice seeing you again.” The words were appropriate though the tone was definitely sarcastic.

  “Maizie, I hope to see you back in class soon.” He flashed her a toothpaste-white smile before strolling off.

  “What was that all about?” Clay demanded. “He had his hands all over you. Do you have something going on with him?”

  “What do you mean, ‘Going on with him’? Are you accusing me of cheating?” Maizie jabbed a finger at Clay’s chest. Smoke was about ready to spew from her ears.

  “He teaches tennis. Nothing more. I like taking lessons. That’s why I bought all those new outfits.” Maizie slammed her hands on her hips and gave him the “don’t mess with me” look that meant he was in major trouble.

  Clay knew he was skating on thin ice, but jealousy had obliterated all common sense.

  “What outfits? We’re not discussing clothes, we’re talking about some smarmy twit touching you.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew he’d made a huge mistake.

  “What outfits? What outfits! The ones with the short skirts and halter tops. The ones where my boobies hang out for everyone to see.” Maizie gestured graphically toward her breasts. “You remember these, don’t you?”

  The pitch of her voice went up with every sentence until she was doing a great Betty Boop imitation.

  Clay grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the exit. “People are listening,” he hissed. If Maizie wanted to have a knock-down, drag-out fight, fine. But there was no way in hell he’d do it in front of half the town. The rose garden was probably deserted so that would have to do.

  “Would you mind telling me what that was all about?” he asked once they were away from the main building. Although Clay was trying to be patient, he was almost at his wits’ end.

  Maizie glared at him. “You don’t pay any attention to me. I can dress up, or I can dress down, or I can get buck naked and nothing makes any difference. How do I get your attention?”

  Clay sighed. “How about acting like a grown-up instead of a spoiled brat?” Oh, brilliant. Sleep deprivation had turned him into the village idiot.

  Initially, Maizie was speechless. But then she started stammering and turned bright red.

  Crap!

  “Look.” Clay took a deep breath. This wasn’t the best time to tell her about their financial situation but better late than never.

  “Our company is on the verge of going belly-up. All I’ve been able to think about lately is how to save our rear ends.”

  Maizie didn’t utter a word. She didn’t have to; her face said it all. At least she wasn’t screaming.

  “We realized that doing the engineering for the highway was almost too big for us to handle, but we bid on it anyway. In the past six months we’ve had problems with the state, the county and the contractor. As a result of all the confusion and the planned slow downs, we haven’t been paid by the contractor in months. And we won’t be anytime soon.”

  Clay had assumed Maizie would be sympathetic, or at the very least understanding.

  “You dolt! Why didn’t you tell me? You were going through something like that and you didn’t let me know? I’m your wife,” she screeched. “We’re supposed to share everything. Everything!”

  Clay almost expected her to deck him. Why was she getting all frothed up? He was the injured party, wasn’t he?

  “Calm down and I’ll explain.”

  But Maizie wasn’t ready to listen. She closed her eyes to tune him out. “I don’t think I want you in my house right now. Wait, change that to I know I don’t want to see you in my bed.” Even though she made the announcement quietly, Clay could sense the fiery volcano bubbling beneath the surface.

  That did it. “Fine. If that’s how you feel about it, that’s just peachy. I’ll find someone to take you home.”

  “Fine!” She stomped her foot. “Don’t bother to come by for your stuff because it’ll be gone. Do you hear me? Gone, goodbye, adios.”

  “You’d better not do anything with my things. If you don’t want to live with me, that’s great, but don’t mess with my possessions.”

  “What valuable possessions, your Little League trophy?”

  “Yeah, my Little League trophy.” Clay stepped back to take a deep breath.

  “I’m leaving.” He had to get out of there before he said something they couldn’t recover from. They’d gone from okay to catastrophic in two point two seconds. How had it happened? And even more important, where did they go from here?

  Chapter Twelve

 
Maizie didn’t know how long she’d been sitting on the concrete bench before Liza appeared. She’d ruined everything. When was she going to learn to control her temper?

  “What’s going on out here?” Liza asked as she put an arm around Maizie’s shoulders.

  That did it. Maizie broke into sobs. “I’ve made such a mess of things,” she wailed, punctuating the flood of tears with a series of hiccups.

  “Honey, what happened?”

  “Clay and I had a huge fight. He walked off and left me here.”

  “A fight? Is that all?”

  Maizie shook her head. “I told him I didn’t trust him and I didn’t want to live with him.”

  “Good gravy! Why would you say that?”

  Maizie explained as much about the fight as she could. It was almost like childbirth—it couldn’t be explained and shouldn’t be remembered.

  “Is that why he wanted me to take you home?”

  “I suppose so. Did he say where he was going?” Maizie sniffed. Darn! Her nose was running like a faucet and she didn’t have a tissue or a sleeve. When things went bad, they went bad in a big way.

  “Let’s take the back exit,” Liza suggested. “You have raccoon eyes and your face is all red and puffy. If anyone sees you like this, you’ll be the talk of the town.”

  “Okay, let’s go. I’m sure Clay will be home when I get there.”

  But not only was Clay gone when they arrived, so was his car, his golf clubs and most of his clothes. Where was he?

  Liza gave Maizie a pitying look as they went back to the kitchen following a full house inspection.

  “What?”

  “Honey, I hate to tell you this, but he’s not coming back. At least not tonight. Do you want me to stay here with you?”

  “What would Zack say?”