by Ann Whitaker
I turned my back without a word, scooped up Philip on my way to the kitchen, and stayed there until I heard the door slam.
When I returned to the bathroom, the underwear he’d tossed into the tub was gone, along with the rest of his clothes. The only sign he’d been there was his towel on the side of the tub, neatly folded. The gesture had a finality to it I should have welcomed. Instead, an achy emptiness stabbed me in the pit of my stomach.
Chapter Seventeen
I have a date. I have a date. Take that, Nick. If I said it enough times, maybe I could convince myself I was excited. No jeans this time. We were going to an upscale restaurant, and I intended to look my best. I’d also told Carmen, so she wouldn’t worry about me.
I pulled a short black dress from my closet and slipped on a pair of black espadrilles with ribbons that tied up my calves to accent my “shapely legs.” Okay, so I’d heard that on What Not to Wear, and at the moment it was on the “what-to-wear” list, though who could keep up? I carefully applied eyeliner, concealer to hide any under-eye circles, and lip gloss guaranteed to keep my lips looking “wet and luscious for six hours.” A sweep of black mascara and a tiny bit of blush, and I was ready.
Marlon could be the one. I had to learn to give guys like him a chance. My mother would probably love him because he had the same first name as my father, but she would definitely not understand why I would go out with someone who worked at Wal-Mart.
He was cute. I might deny it, but I did want cute or handsome or good-looking. If for no other reason, I didn’t want ugly children. Marlon was a little on the short side, but cute in a Prince William sort of way, except his hair was sandier, and he didn’t seem to be in danger of losing it. Too, if our children took after either of us, they wouldn’t be fat.
As I waited for him in the circular drive, I decided tonight would be all about Marlon. I’d quiz him like a game show host. I thought back to the list of husband requirements I’d made before I came to Waco. My mother wanted me to marry rich. What did I want? Someone steady and faithful who loved me for myself. At any rate, that’s what I’d put on my list. But a part of me also wanted a man who’d shiver me timbers. A man like Nick. Who’d also want me forever.
Why did I delude myself? Men like Nick didn’t make good husbands. Besides, he was in love with Babe and still putting the moves on me. Time to be realistic. I had a date with a nice young man who seemed to like me. Oh, God. Nice young man. Something my mother would say.
I pulled back my shoulders. I owed it to Marlon and to myself to make the most of it. I would never find a husband if I kept being so picky. So what if he was five years younger. When Marlon was forty, I’d be forty-five. When I was fifty…little Marlon would be only forty-five. So I’d have a boy toy. Other women did it. Cher, Demi…
My thoughts were interrupted by the purr of an engine. A car was headed up the hill. Fortunately, it bore no resemblance to Butch’s pickup. My eyes widened as it drew closer. Marlon sat behind the wheel of a low, sleek, black-as-sin Lamborghini.
This car, the one now pulling up beside me, driven by a Wal-Mart clerk, was worth at least two hundred grand. Had he rented it? Stolen it? I didn’t know and didn’t care. Obviously, something about Marlon didn’t add up, but for now, I intended to enjoy the ride. I looked back at the house, hoping someone was looking. Look at me, Nick! I wanted to shout. I can get a babe too.
Marlon hopped out and opened the door, making a wide, sweeping gesture with his arm as if he were a knight offering his lady a ride in his carriage. I smiled and lowered myself into the low-slung seat as gracefully as I could, making sure I showed some leg. I peered through the car window toward the house while Marlon went around to his side, but I saw no signs of life.
He wore a dark suit, crisp white shirt, tie, and shoes polished to a bright shine. Thank God I’d opted for the dress.
He eased into his seat as if he’d been born to drive such a creature. “Good evening, fair lady.”
“Good evening, sir.” I played along, thankful he hadn’t called me ma’am again.
Marlon reached behind his seat, extracting two pewter wine glasses and an uncorked bottle of champagne. He poured us each half a glass, and as he handed me mine, our hands brushed, but I felt no spark. I told myself sparks were precursors to storms. Storms that didn’t last long and left destruction in their wake.
You’re looking for a husband, said my inner voice. Husbands don’t need to create sparks. Husbands represent security.
Marlon offered a toast. “To Marlon and Julie. May they live long and prosper.”
So it wasn’t original, but it was the most romantic gesture anyone had made in some time. Except for Nick. Sleeping with me on the floor of the New Orleans airport rated five stars out of five on the romance scale. And he’d also—
My inner voice interrupted my Nick-notions. Stop it, Julie. Forget Nick! He’s taken. Even worse, he’s in love with another woman and still trying to…to…sleep with you! Last thing you need is another disloyal man. Poor Babe. She deserves better.
Marlon shifted gears, and the Lamborghini sailed smoothly down the incline and out onto Lakeshore Drive. The sensation resembled flying but with the comfort of four wheels on the ground.
“And how is the lovely Lady Julie this fine summer evening?”
“Lady Julie is delighted to be here.”
“I’m at your command,” said my Wal-Mart clerk. He shifted smoothly into second to slow us down as we rounded a curve. “If it pleases the lady, we’ll soon be partaking of a fine repast. Not only steak, but steak and lobster, should the fair Julie so desire.”
“Oh, yes. The fair Julie is grateful you’ve slain the vicious beasts and offer her the fruit of your plunder.”
With that, Marlon and I continued coasting down Lakeshore and our new life together. Wait till our future children got a load of this story.
When we reached the Prime Rib, the parking lot was already full. I looked over at Marlon as he maneuvered into an empty spot that seemed to materialize near the front door. “Are you sure we can get in?”
“Not to worry. We have reservations.”
I racked up another point for Marlon. The boy…man…manchild…seemed to know his way around.
The second we entered the front door, the maître d’, a solid man with short, curly hair, greeted us effusively. If he’d been a dog, he’d have been from the working group, maybe a Black Russian terrier.
“Good evening, Mr. Williams. Your table is ready. Follow me, please.”
Mr. Williams?
The maître d’ seated us in a dimly lit room at a cozy corner table covered in white linen. A cinnamon-scented candle flickered, creating shadows on the wall, reminding me of my night in Abilene with Nick. Was I going to need an exorcist to rid myself of thoughts of him?
A sommelier appeared with the wine list. “You like red?” Marlon asked.
“Sure, red, white, whatever you want is fine with me.”
Marlon barely glanced at the list. “We’ll have a bottle of the 2001 Shafer Hillside Select Stags Leap District Cabernet Sauvignon.”
I looked at the description: Outstanding. One of California’s most sought-after wines and priced accordingly. It offers exotic, wild blackberry and black cherry fruit, creamy vanilla and toasty oak, plus a hint of cedar. The tannins are plush tannins, the finish long. I reached for my throat when I saw the price. One hundred seventy-five dollars. Was it possible Marlon thought it said seventeen-fifty?
No doubt the steaks would be equally pricey. Poor Marlon. Blowing a week’s—month’s?—Wal-Mart salary on food and drink.
Dollar signs for his tip popped up in the sommelier’s eye sockets. “Good choice, sir.” Once the waiter was out of earshot, I could hold my tongue no longer. “Excuse me, but did you notice the price of the wine?”
Marlon flashed me a dimpled smile. “I know it’s rather expensive, but this is a special occasion.”
“It is?”
“Of course. It’s o
ur first date. It’s not often I meet a woman in Wal-Mart and she says yes when I ask her out.”
“They usually say no?”
He laughed. “Honestly, I’ve never asked a customer out before.”
Quiz show time. I needed some answers. “What’s with the Mr. Williams? Does the maître d’ know you? Do you work here, too?”
Marlon laughed again, then leaned over and whispered. “He knows my father.”
“And your father is…?”
“I might as well confess. My father was mayor a few years ago. Most people in Waco know him or know his name. I don’t advertise it because—don’t take this wrong—but I’ve had women go out with me because my family has money.”
Ha. Could I ever relate to that. “And the Wal-Mart job?”
“My attempt to be normal, I guess you could say. With my father’s connections, I could take my pick of jobs, but I like dealing with everyday, ordinary people. And I get plenty of that at Wal-Mart. It’s only part-time. I’m also working toward my law degree at Baylor. Six months to go. Soon as I pass the bar exam, I plan to leave Waco, hook up with a firm or start my own practice, somewhere no one knows me.”
Unbelievable. This manchild was perfect. I could even get over my prejudice against rich people with a guy like this. Marlon could have been telling my own life story, give or take a few details.
I deliberated whether to tell him how much we had in common and decided against it. Though I liked him, I automatically recoiled when he mentioned money. I’d had my share of rich guys and found them arrogant, shallow, and selfish. So far, Marlon seemed different, but for now, I’d play my cards close to my breasts.
The sommelier brought our wine, opened it, offered Marlon the cork to smell, then poured a splash into Marlon’s glass. Marlon sniffed, sipped, and nodded his acceptance.
Next, a waiter handed us a dinner menu, apprised us of the evening’s specials, and said he’d be back shortly to take our orders. I took a sip of wine. Though I didn’t tell Marlon, it tasted like any other cabernet sauvignon. I couldn’t tell the cedar from the oak or plush tannin from…what would the opposite be? Unplush? Spartan?
One thing I had to admit. So far my date with Marlon vastly surpassed my dining experiences with Butch, Internet Joe, and all my other dates the past year. But a small voice in my head wouldn’t be quieted: What about the Coffee Pot in New Orleans with Nick? What about being in the same room with Nick? Enfolded in his arms?
I shut the voice off and perused the menu. For starters, choices included pumpkin and chickpea soup or smoked salmon and lemon risotto. Main courses were quail with figs and olives, osso bucco served with mashed potatoes and seasoned vegetables, or steak and lobster. Prices ranged from fifty to eighty dollars. Per person. I wondered how long the Prime Rib would stay in business in Waco, Texas. How could people spend that much money on one meal when people and dogs were going hungry all over the world?
Marlon reached over and pointed to the entrée section of my menu. “I highly recommend the steak and lobster.”
“Fine with me.” The thought of sweet, succulent lobster melting in my mouth did have its appeal. Just so I didn’t have to pick one out of a tank.
Marlon studied his menu. “For dessert, we really need to try the little hot pots of chocolate with orange polenta biscuits.”
I took another five-dollar sip of the hundred and seventy-five dollar wine, wondering what I was doing here. Meanwhile, my fresh-faced companion seemed perfectly at ease. I would have felt more comfortable at an I-Hop, but I knew how to go through the motions. I removed the origami-folded napkin and placed it in my lap. “You eat here often?”
“Not really. I save it for special occasions. When I saw you in the store yesterday, I knew if you agreed to go out with me, it would be special.”
“That’s sweet,” I said, trying to feel something besides gratitude. What was wrong with me? Here I was in an expensive restaurant with a guy who seemed to have no flaws, and I was…well, I was bored.
And the evening was young. Time for question number two. “Tell me about your law studies.”
“Well, I want to specialize in international law and hope someday to get into politics.”
I did admire him for being a rich kid with ambition instead of living off his daddy’s money.
“What about you?”
I took another small sip of wine. “Me? When my stint in Waco is over, I’ll go back to Abilene and resume my day job as a vet tech. That’s about all there is to tell.” For some reason, I didn’t want to talk about myself to Marlon, though he seemed sincerely interested.
“What brought you to Waco?”
“My boss went mountain climbing for a month, and a job opened up here. I’m living with a family while I train their two poodles.” Could I have sounded any duller? No wonder I was bored. I was boring myself.
The steak and lobster rescued me. I managed to ask enough questions to keep Marlon talking, while I savored each delicious bite of my eighty-dollar dinner. At that price, it would be sinful not to, but my thoughts kept straying to Nick. He’s the one who should be sitting across from me, not Marlon, dammit.
Marlon was Nick’s polar opposite—sandy hair, fair-skinned. For some reason, I’d never been attracted to blond men. Sorry Brad, James Dean, and now Marlon. I’d always been more of a Colin Farrell-Antonio Banderas kind of gal.
I leaned against the padded back of the chair, allowing the lobster to have its way with my taste buds, closing my eyes in ecstasy. When I opened them, I was staring across the room into Nick’s baby blues. I jolted upright in my seat in disbelief. In his dark, tailored suit, he could have passed for a Hollywood star. My knees began to tremble and forcing them together didn’t help. My fork clattered onto my plate.
I picked up the fork and wiped it with my napkin, hoping Marlon wouldn’t notice, but a look of concern crossed his face. “You okay? Your face is flushed. You aren’t allergic to seafood are you?”
“It’s the wine. Sometimes it makes the blood rush to my face.”
Nick was walking straight toward us, his eyes locked onto mine. What was he doing at the Prime Rib? First the Cotton Patch Cafe. Now here. He must have followed me again. But why? And how? I wasn’t in Carmen’s Lexus this time.
Then I saw Babe. She wore an off-the-shoulder electric blue dress that was sending high-voltage currents through every male in the place. Heads swiveled like bar stools. Marlon’s back was to her, so I wasn’t sure what his reaction would be.
A few seconds later, they were standing beside our table. Nick smiled broadly. “Julie, what a surprise!” Okay, so Babe had him and I didn’t. He didn’t have to rub it in. But the thought of him rubbing anything in… Did Babe know he was a two-timer who’d tried to add me to his list of conquests?
When Marlon stood up and offered his hand, Nick grasped it firmly and didn’t let go till Marlon looked away. Then Nick introduced himself and Babe, as if we were a big, happy family. “Julie’s been staying with us this summer.” I glared at Nick but put on my fake smile when Marlon looked my way. He held out his hand inviting them to sit. “By all means, join us. We have plenty of room.”
Babe flashed him a smile so bright I had to blink, but Marlon seemed oblivious to her charms.
Nick smiled and pointed across the room. “Thanks, but we’ve got a table reserved.” The wine bottle caught his eye, and he lifted it from the table, examining the label. “Great choice. I have a fondness for the Shafer Hillside Selects myself. Last year when I was in California, Babe and I visited the winery in Napa. Ever been there?”
Marlon shook his head.
Babe looked up at Nick and smiled in adoration. “You should try it sometime,” Nick told Marlon. “Beautiful place, wasn’t it, Babe?”
“Fabulous.” She smiled brightly and turned to Marlon. “Are you from Waco?”
“Born and raised.”
Marlon was still standing, and our food was getting cold. Why didn’t they leave?
“So how did you two meet?” Nick asked, directing the question to Marlon.
I broke in, narrowing my eyes at Nick when Marlon wasn’t looking. “We met while I was shopping for a cell phone.”
Nick looked surprised. “Ah, so you finally broke down and decided to enter the brave new world. About time.”
I stabbed a piece of steak and held it near my mouth, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. “Just a disposable. Once I leave Waco, I doubt I’ll have need of it.”
Marlon smiled. “I helped her pick one out, but I forgot to deactivate the sensor device, and she set the alarm off. One thing led to another, and here we are.”
Nick’s smile didn’t extend to his eyes. “Where do you work?” His behavior reminded me of a male street dog, circling another, staring till it dropped its bone.
“Wal-Mart,” said Marlon, as if proud of it.
I wanted to crawl under the table. Marlon was carrying his poor boy act too far.
Nick smiled slightly and looked down at our plates, probably thinking I was so desperate for a husband I was paying.
Marlon shifted his weight to his other foot, and I sensed he was being polite for my sake. “How about you?”
“Pilot.”
“Interesting,” he said, though he was sounding less interested the longer he stood there. “Sure you won’t join us?”
“Thanks, but our waiter is signaling us now. Enjoy your dinner. And your wine.” Nick glanced back over his shoulder as he and Babe headed for their table.
Damn him.
Marlon sat back down and looked at his cold food. “Seems like a nice guy.”
I stuffed a piece of steak into my mouth and bit into it with a vengeance. “He’s okay.”
Marlon nibbled on his lobster. “They make a handsome couple.” Much as I hated to admit it, he was right. He reached over and covered my hand with his. “But they don’t have anything on us.”
My body went rigid, but I left my hand where it was until he pulled his away. Even the touch of another man’s hand left me empty. Stranger still, I felt I was betraying Nick. It made no sense whatsoever, and I knew I had to shake this obsession. I was thirty-two years old, way too old to believe in fairy tales. No Cinderella complex here.