The Sweetest Deal

by Mary Campisi

  “No.” She snapped the box shut. Her stomach lurched and chocolate chunks shot up her throat like a geyser. She barely made it to the bathroom where she heaved her good intentions and hunks of triple chocolate into the toilet.

  Roxie found her two hours later, curled in bed with a wet cloth slapped on her forehead.

  “Gee, you look like crap.”

  “Thanks,” C.C. mumbled.

  “Flu?”

  “No.”

  “So, you’re not contagious?” Roxie inched closer. She wore red pleather pants and a lime green T-shirt.

  “No, but that outfit’s going to make me heave again.”

  Roxie smiled. “Got it half off at Hot Topic.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Too many cookies.”

  That brought Roxie right to the edge of the bed. “What?”

  “Nothing. It has to be overload after a three week withdrawal.”

  “Uh, you’ve never thrown up from those cookies, and you’ve eaten seven at a time.”

  C.C. leaned on her elbows and pulled a chunk of hair from her eyes. “Okay, I was upset then.” She reached under her pillow and pulled out the blue velvet box. “I found this in the bag of cookies he brought the night he came back from California.”

  Roxie eased open the box. “Holy shit,” she gasped. “I think the guy loves you.”

  “I’m sure after these last few weeks I’ve killed any feelings he had for me. Except loathing, I’m sure he still feels that.”

  Roxie traced the cut of the diamond. “Is this the first time you’ve been sick?”

  C.C. had to think about that. “Actually throwing up, yes, but the past few nights I’ve been kind of queasy.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Why are you staring at my stomach like that?”

  “No reason.”

  “It’s his fault. He should have told me about the deal and then given me the ring.”

  “Like you would have listened.”

  Roxie was right, of course. But still. “He could have tried.”

  “I’d say the man did try, honey, but you weren’t up for listening. And then you pulled David out of your bag of tricks. I’m sure that went over well.”

  “I’m so confused.” Max had bought her a ring. That had to mean he was going to ask her to marry him. Until she blew it. Her stomach jumped again and she took three deep breaths.

  Roxie squeezed her hand. “It’ll be okay, you’ll see. Do you mind if I run to the drugstore? I’ll be back in five minutes.”

  “What do you need?”

  “An EPT test. If my guess is right, you’re pregnant.”

  ***

  “We’ve got to get them back together.” Roxie popped a handful of cheese puffs in her mouth and chewed.

  “Why?”

  “Because they’re like peanut butter and jelly. Or salami and rye.”

  Rhyder sliced and cored an apple with graceful precision. “Smoked salmon and cream cheese?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  The man did have a certain flair about him, Roxie had to admit, even if it said “giant nerd.” If he loosened up just a teeny, tiny bit, he might be attractive. If a girl were interested in the “I’m so impressed with my own brains” type.

  Which Roxie so clearly was not.

  She’d wandered over to Rhyder’s this evening after spending the morning with C.C. The EPT was positive, just as Roxie had predicted. For a smart girl, C.C. certainly was dense about some things. Like Max Jerrnigan, for one. Men didn’t buy gargantuan stones like the one in that box if they didn’t want to be around to enjoy the benefits.

  She stretched her leopard-print legs on Rhyder’s couch. Comfy. Cozy. She closed her eyes and let a purr escape. She liked it here, in this soft, warm room that smelled like Rhyder…her eyes popped open.

  Rhyder was slowly munching on his apple, his eyes glued to her. “What?” She scrambled to a sitting position. “What did I do?”

  “Hasn’t anyone ever told you to keep those little pleasure sounds to yourself when you’re in a man’s apartment? Unless you’re trying to get him to join in?”

  “No!” She scooted to the edge of the couch.

  He shrugged and picked up another slice of apple. “You don’t have to worry about me—we wouldn’t even be speaking if it weren’t for Max and C.C., but you should know.”

  “Thank you. I’ll tape my mouth shut from now on.”

  His lips twitched. “You’d never make it, Roxie.”

  “You’d be surprised what I can do with this mouth,” she spat out.

  He quirked a dark brow. “Is that what you tell all your male acquaintances?”

  She ignored him. “You know what I mean. We have to get them together.”

  “Uh, that’s going to be a little hard to do.”

  She jumped off the couch and advanced on him, eyes narrowed, fists clenched. “Why? Did something happen you didn’t tell me about?”

  “No.” He shook his head and busied himself with another slice of apple.

  “Rhyder. Tell me what’s going on.” Funny how she could tell when he was keeping something from her. Almost like a couple. She half choked. No, definitely not like a couple.

  “Okay, okay.” He tossed half an apple slice on a plate and turned to her. “He took off for Los Angeles this morning on the red-eye.”

  “Oh.” She picked up his half-eaten apple and munched. “Well, get him back. This is an emergency.”

  “That’s the problem. We got the deal in L.A. and he’s relocating as soon as possible.”

  “No. He can’t do that. We haven’t had a chance to work our plan. Rhyder, you have to stop him.”

  “I can’t, Roxie. It’s too late.”

  “It can’t be too late.” She leaned in close and whispered, “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  ***

  It felt good to be back in Chicago, even if it was only for five days. Max stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. L.A. was even faster paced than Chicago and a single guy could find entertainment anywhere, anytime, but after a while, a person just needed a break.

  He had tonight all planned out; ball game, pizza, beer, and he wouldn’t have to leave home for any of it thanks to HDTV and delivery service.

  Max pulled a beer from the fridge and popped the cap. Relax. That’s what he needed to do. The stress of the deal in L.A. had stolen too many hours of sleep and he needed to recharge. When his cell rang, he almost didn’t answer it.

  “Damn.” He snatched it up and looked at the screen. Rhyder. Even after all this time, a tiny speck of hope crept into his voice each time his cell rang. He pressed the button and said, “Hello.”

  “Max? I’m in the mood for Matilda’s.”

  “Good to know, Rhyder.” Max pulled out the phone book and flipped to the yellow pages. “I’m in the mood for Pizzeria Uno.”

  “I know a good cardiologist. Keep eating like that and you’ll be using him.”

  “So, I guess I shouldn’t order the breadsticks with it, huh?” Rhyder and his wacked out healthy eating—no alcohol, no white flour. No fun. Except for desserts—for those he made an exception. Go figure.

  “You could order the filet I suppose and have them sauté the mushrooms in olive oil instead of butter.”

  “Thanks for reworking my menu, but I don’t want to go out tonight. I’m going to order a pizza, drink a beer or two, and watch the ball game.”

  Pause. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

  “I’ll be in the office at eight o’clock. Can’t it wait until then?”

  “No, actually it can’t.”

  “Rhyder, you’re not trying to set me up with somebody, are you? Some researcher from Yugoslavia or something?”

  “Katya was from Russia and she was a genetic scientist. I have no idea why you didn’t get along with her.”

  “She could
only say three words in English: taxi, cheeseburger and internet.”

  “I thought you knew Russian, and besides, how much talking do you really do with your women anyway?”

  Bam, that hit home. He’d found a woman he could talk to and she’d dumped him. “I’m not interested.”

  “I’m not trying to fix you up. I need to talk to you.”

  “You know, you’re a nag. Just like a little old lady.”

  “Right. I’ll see you at Matilda’s at eight. Don’t be late.” Click.

  Rhyder was up to something. Max should just ignore him and order his pizza. He told himself this as he drank his beer and pulled out a black turtleneck and gray slacks. He should just stay home.

  Forty minutes and a bourbon later, Max knew he’d made a mistake. Rhyder was twenty minutes late. Rhyder was never late. The bar area reeked of pick-up lines and aftershave and the same brunette had just shimmied past him for the third time in her shrink-wrapped sweater dress which did nothing for Max’s mood.

  “Max!”

  He turned and there was Rhyder looking like a page out of Ralph Lauren’s catalog in tan slacks and a navy cashmere sweater. “Where the hell have you been, Mr. Punctual?”

  “Accident on the freeway. Sorry.”

  He didn’t look sorry. He didn’t even look sincere. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

  “Let me get my drink. Then we’ll talk.”

  “Christ, Rhyder, I’m not going to be here all night. I’m starving. I could be gorging myself on a double-stuffed pepperoni and mushroom pizza right now.”

  “Your arteries will thank you in ten years for not doing that. Just give me a minute.”

  Max waited while Rhyder ordered a Perrier with lime. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something red and jagged moving toward him. What the hell? He turned to see Roxie Revito dressed in some black leather get-up with matching boots and a pink leotard.

  “Hello, Max.” An odd little smile crossed her lips.

  “Roxie.” He looked past her tiny frame and there she was, standing less than three feet away, the woman who’d stolen his sleep and ripped his heart apart. Why was she here? “C.C.” Had he spoken her name or merely thought it?

  “Max.”

  She was beautiful, even in a White Sox sweatshirt and jeans. He drank in every detail; the long hair sweeping over slim shoulders in a soft chestnut swirl, the slight flush of cheeks, the brightness in the amber eyes, the slender neck, the small breasts, the long legs… He snapped himself alert. She was with David now. He cleared his throat and said, “Hello.”

  Rhyder appeared with his Perrier and just enough recognition to appear guilty of something. Had he orchestrated this chance reunion?

  Max would strangle him if he had.

  “We were just about to sit down and I know tables are tight,” Rhyder was saying. “Would you care to join us?”

  He had to be kidding.

  “That would be great,” Roxie chimed in.

  Was the little Cyndi Lauper pixie in on this, too? Max hazarded a glance at C.C., who looked paler than paste. Were Rhyder and Roxie behind this? What the hell was going on?

  “We’ll be right back,” Roxie said, grabbing Rhyder’s arm. “I think I see my cousin, Roberta.”

  When they were gone, Max shook his head and said, “I guess you didn’t tell her I know about Roberta.”

  “No.”

  The brunette in the shrink-wrapped sweater dress slid between him and C.C. with a seductive smile and another lingering once over. Some men might find the blatant perusal enticing, and maybe he’d been one of those men before, but not since C.C. Nothing had been the same since C.C. She stepped closer and he inhaled her citrus scent. God, he missed her. Be casual. Stay cool. “So, how are you?”

  “Why’d you stuff a ring in my cookie bag?”

  So much for casual conversation. It took a few seconds to think of a plausible response. The truth would make him look like a fool, considering she was in love with another man. What to say? He settled on a half-lame excuse. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “Why?”

  Because he loved her. Because for the first time he wanted “forever.” He shrugged. “Men do crazy things sometimes.”

  “Not you, Max. You only do things for a reason.”

  He had to change the subject before he made a fool of himself. “It doesn’t matter. It’s history. Keep the ring. It’s not like I have another one in line.”

  She winced. Was she going to hand him more bad news, like, I’m getting married to David the Asshole?

  “I wish we could have been more honest with each other,” she said, pinning him with those beautiful eyes.

  “I was honest with you.” Except for the deal, he’d been one hundred percent honest with her and look where that had gotten him.

  “About everything.”

  Okay, why the cryptic talk? “Were you seeing him before I went to L.A.?” He pictured her sneaking out of the asshole’s bed to run home to Max.

  “Of course not. That wasn’t what I was talking about.”

  “Then what?” Part of him really did wish he’d stayed home with a pizza and beer instead of subjecting his heart to this torture.

  “I’m talking about us, Max.” Her cheeks flushed as she inched closer. “I wish things had been more honest between us.”

  Anger curled around his gut, squeezed hard. “Things were great between us,” he said through gritted teeth, “and just because you’re sleeping with some other guy now, don’t denigrate what we had.”

  Her nostrils flared. “Tell me why you bought the ring, dammit!”

  The woman drove him mad. “Because I love you! Why else would I buy it?”

  She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. What had he just done? “Look, let’s just forget it, okay? It’s history.”

  “You love me?”

  She wouldn’t let it go. He looked away, caught the brunette in the shrink-wrap eyeing him and glanced back at C.C. How could he ever look at another woman after this one?

  “Max?”

  “Yes. Okay?” This was the worst profession of unrequited love in history.

  “And my father did not coerce you in any way?”

  Now she had him. “Your father knew how much you wanted a child and he hated how you’d been cheated. He found a way for you to get what you wanted. I was supposed to get you pregnant and give you the baby you wanted. We were never supposed to get involved, past the uh, necessary involvement. But somewhere along the way I fell in love with you.” Regret squeezed his gut. “I’m so sorry. It was a horrible thing to do—”

  She threw her arms around him and kissed him on the mouth.

  Max pulled away. “What about David? Did he go back to his wife?” Nothing made sense.

  She smiled. “I have no idea where he is. I invented the David scenario to save face after Candace visited me. She said Dad told her about the deal you and he made. She felt horrible about it.”

  “She must have known Grayson wouldn’t like her interference and there’d be repercussions.” Like an aborted engagement. And yet, she’d done the right thing. She’d almost ruined his life, but he had to give her credit, anyway. Maybe she had changed after all.

  “Just when I decided I was okay with Dad marrying her, he broke it off.”

  “Candy’s a strong woman. She’ll be okay.” And changed or not, Candy didn’t belong with someone she described as calm, steady and admirable.

  C.C. touched his cheek. “I’ve been so miserable without you.” She reached up to kiss him again but he stopped her.

  “Why didn’t you just ask without orchestrating this big scheme?” All the pain and sleepless hours she’d caused, for what? Pride?

  “Maybe if I had found the ring before you took off, I could have. But I swore off cookies the day we broke up and didn’t find the ring until—”

  “Until?”

  “Do you still want to marry me?”

  “
Do you have any other old boyfriends you want to re-invent?”

  She brushed her lips against his. “Only you. I love you, Max.”

  “Then yes, I still want to marry you.”

  He bent to kiss her but she jerked away. “Good, because there’s something I have to tell you. First—” she lifted her left hand, “—I love the ring.”

  “You’ve been wearing it?”

  She nodded, her eyes glistening. “I’ll never take it off.”

  “You can leave it on.” He slid a hand along her back. “There’ll be enough other things to take off.”

  “Speaking of taking things off—seems we did a very good job of doing that.”

  Her sexy innuendo made him hard. “Damn straight and I’m ready to do it again. Do you think Rhyder will mind if we skip out? I’ll order a pizza and we can get naked and eat in bed.”

  “Umm, I can’t really eat pizza right now. It bothers my stomach.”

  “Since when? You love pepperoni and mushrooms.”

  “Not lately. I can’t eat my cookies either.”

  Max stared at her. “Are you okay? Did I cause you some kind of eating disorder or something?” He’d never forgive himself if he hurt her.

  “Nothing that won’t correct itself in about seven months,” she said, stroking his cheek.

  “Seven months? Why so long?” And then it hit him. “You’re pregnant?” He eased his hand along her belly to the tiny swell above her jeans.

  “I’m guessing it was one of those few times we didn’t use protection. Max, if you made the deal with my dad, why did you use a condom?”

  A baby. Their baby. “I told myself I’d fulfill my part of the deal later. When we first made love it was about us, not some deal. And then, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

  “I love you, Max Jerrnigan. I’ll always love you.”

  “What do you think about a Vegas wedding?” He wanted to marry her tomorrow.

  “No. I want to get married in front of the fountain in my old house, with your whole family there.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking. They’re an interesting group.”