“So go get her,” Cal said, trying to get around him.
“Cynthie’s got David with her,” Roger said, and there was great sympathy in his voice.
“Cal!” David’s voice grated over Cal’s shoulder. “Just who we were looking for.” He sounded mad as hell, but when Cal turned, David was smiling.
Trouble, Cal thought and smiled back with equal insincerity. “David. Cynthie. Great to see you.”
“Hello, Cal.” Cynthie smiled up at him, her heart-shaped face lethally lovely. “How’ve you been?”
“Great. Couldn’t be better. You, too, looking great.” Cal looked past her to David, and thought, Take her, please. “You’re a lucky man, David.”
“I am?”
“Dating Cynthie,” Cal said, putting all the encouragement he could into his voice.
Cynthie took David’s arm. “We just ran into each other.” She turned her shoulder to Cal and glowed up at David. “But it is nice seeing him again.” Her eyes slid back to Cal’s face, and he smiled past her ear again, radiating no jealousy at all as hard as he could.
David looked down into her beautiful face and blinked, and Cal felt a stab of sympathy for him. Cynthie was enchanting up close. And from far away. From everywhere, really, which was how he’d ended up saying yes to her all the time. Cal glanced at her impeccably tight little body in her impeccably tight little red dress and then took a step back as he jerked his eyes away, reminding himself of how peaceful life was without her. Distance, that was the key. Maybe a cross and some garlic, too.
“Of course,” David was saying. “Maybe we can do dinner later.” He glanced at Cal, looking triumphant.
“Well, don’t let us keep you.” Cal took another step back and bumped into the railing.
Cynthie let go of David’s arm, her glow diminished. “I’ll just freshen up before we go.” Tony and David watched as her perfect rear end swung away from them, while Roger ignored her to peer across the room at the pixie blonde, and Cal took another healthy swallow of his drink and wished he were somewhere else. Anywhere else. Dinner, for example. Maybe he’d stop by Emilio’s and eat in the kitchen. There were no women in Emilio’s kitchen.
“So, David,” Tony was saying. “How’d our seminar work out for you?”
“It was terrific,” David said. “I didn’t think anybody could teach some of those morons that new program, but everybody at the firm is now up to speed. We’ve even . . .”
He went on and Cal nodded, thinking that one of the many reasons he didn’t like David was his tendency to refer to his employees as morons. Still, David paid his bills on time and gave credit where it was due; there were much worse clients. And if he took over Cynthie, Cal was prepared to feel downright warm toward him.
David wound down on whatever it was he’d been saying and looked toward the stairs. “About Cynthie. I thought that you and she—”
“No.” Cal shook his head with enthusiasm. “She left me a couple of months ago.”
“Isn’t it usually the other way around?”
David arched an eyebrow and looked ridiculous. And still women went out with him. Life was a mystery. So were women.
“Aren’t you supposed to be the guy who never strikes out?” David said.
“No,” Cal said.
“He’s losing his edge,” Tony said. “I found an easy pickup for him, and he said no.”
“Which one?” David said.
“The gray-checked suit at the bar.” Tony motioned with his glass, and David looked at the bar and then turned back to Cal, smooth as ever.
“Maybe you are losing it.” David smiled at him. “She shouldn’t be that hard to get. It’s not like she’s a Cynthie.”
“She’s all right,” Cal said, cautiously.
David leaned in. “After all, nobody says no to you, right?”
“What?” Cal said.
“I’m willing to bet you that you can’t get her,” David said. “A hundred bucks says you can’t nail her.”
Cal pulled back. “What?”
David laughed, but there was an edge to his voice when he spoke. “It’s just a bet, Cal. You guys love risk, I’ve seen you bet on damn near everything. This isn’t even that big a bet. We should make it two hundred.”
That was when Cal had contemplated giving David a healthy push. Tony turned his back to David and mouthed, Humor him, and Cal sighed. There must be something he could ask for that would make David back down. “That baseball in your office,” he said. “The one in the case.”
“My Pete Rose baseball?” David’s voice went up an octave.
“Yeah, that one. That’s my price.” Cal slugged back the rest of his scotch and looked around for a waitress.
David shook his head. “Not a chance. My dad caught that pop-up for me in seventy-five. But I like your style, upping the stakes like that.” He leaned in closer. “Tell you what. The last refresher seminar you ran for us set me back ten grand. I’ll bet you ten thousand in cash against a free seminar—”
Cal forced a smile. “David, I was kidding—”
“But for ten thou, you have to get her into bed. I’ll play fair. I’ll give you a month to get her out of that gray-checked suit.”
“Piece of cake,” Tony said.
Cal glared at Tony. “David, this isn’t my kind of bet.”
“It’s my kind,” David said, drawing his brows together, and Cal thought, Hell, he’s going to push this, and we need his business.
Okay, clearly booze had shut down David’s brain. But once it was back up and working again, David would back down on the ten thousand, that was insane, and David was never insane about money. So all he had to do was stall until David sobered up and then pretend the whole thing never happened. He stole a glance across the room to the bar and was delighted to see that the gray suit had disappeared sometime during their conversation.
Cal turned back to David and said, “Well, I would, David, but she’s gone.” And God bless you, gray suit, for leaving, he thought and picked up his drink again.
Things were finally going his way.
Min had walked across the room, telling herself that it was a real toss-up as to which would be worse, trying to talk to this guy or enduring Di’s wedding unescorted. When she neared the landing, she edged her way under the rail, catching faint snatches of conversations as she went, not stopping until she heard David’s voice faintly above her, saying, “But for ten, though, you have to get her into bed.”
What? Min thought. It was noisy up there by the door, maybe she hadn’t heard him—
“I’ll play fair,” David went on. “I’ll give you a month to get her out of that gray-checked suit.”
Min looked down at her gray-checked suit.
“Piece of cake,” somebody said to David, and Min thought, Son of a bitch, the world is full of sex-crazed bastards, and forced herself to move on before she climbed the railing and killed them both.
She headed back to Liza and Bonnie, fuming. She knew exactly what David was up to. He assumed she wouldn’t sleep with anybody because she’d turned him down. She’d warned him about that, about the rash assumptions he made, but instead of taking her advice, he’d kept asking her out.
Because he thought I was a sure thing, she realized. Because he’d looked at her and thought, Overweight smart woman who’ll never cheat on me and will be grateful I sleep with her. “Bastard,” she said out loud. She should have sex with Calvin Morrisey just to pay David back. But then she’d have no way of getting even with Calvin Morrisey. God, she was dumb. Fat and dumb, there was a winning combo.
“What’s wrong?” Liza said when she was back at the bar. “Did you ask him?”
“No. As soon as you finish your drinks, I’m ready to go.” Min turned back to the balcony and caught sight of them, just as they caught sight of her.
David’s face was smug, but Calvin Morrisey clutched his drink and looked like he’d just seen Death.
“There she is,” David crowed. “I told you
she’d be back. Go get her, champ.”
“Uh, David,” Cal began, consigning the gray-checked suit to the lowest circle of hell.
“A bet’s a bet.”
Cal put his empty glass down on the rail and thought fast. The suit did not look happy, so the odds weren’t impossible that she’d go for a chance to get out of the bar if he offered dinner. “Look, David, sex is not in the cards. I’m cheap, but I’m not slimy. You want to bet ten bucks on a pickup, fine, but that’s it. Nothing with a future.”
David shook his head. “Oh, no, I’ll bet on the pickup, too, ten bucks if you leave with her. But the ten thousand is still on. If you lose . . .” He smiled at Cal, drawing out the “lose,” “you do a seminar for me for free.”
“David, I can’t make that bet,” Cal said, trying another tack. “I have two partners who—”
“I’m good for it,” Tony said. “Cal never misses.”
Cal glared at him. “Well, Roger isn’t good for it.”
“Hey, Roger, you in?” Tony said, and Roger said, “Sure,” without looking away from the blonde at the bar.
“Roger,” Cal said.
“She’s the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen,” Roger said.
“Roger, you just bet that I could get a woman into bed,” Cal said with great patience. “Now tell David you don’t want to bet a ten-thousand-dollar refresher seminar on sex.”
“What?” Roger said, finally looking away from the blonde.
“I said—” Cal began.
“Why would you bet on something like that?” Roger said.
“That’s not the question,” Tony said. “The question is, can he do it?”
“Sure,” Roger said. “But—”
“Then we have a bet,” David said.
“No, we do not,” Cal said.
“You don’t think you can do it,” David said. “You’re losing it.”
“This is not about me,” Cal said, and then Cynthie slid back into the group and put her hand on his arm. She leaned into him, and he felt his blood heat right on cue.
“She’s over there waiting for you,” David said, an edge in his voice.
“She?” Cynthie’s glow dimmed. “Are you seeing somebody?”
Oh, hell, Cal thought.
“Cal?” David said.
“Cal?” Cynthie said.
“I love this,” Tony said.
“What?” Roger said.
Cal sighed. It was the suit or Cynthie, the rock or the soft place who wanted to get married. He detached her hand from his arm. “Yes, I’m seeing somebody. Excuse me.”
He pushed past Cynthie and David and headed for the bar, wishing them both the worst fate he could think of, that they’d end up together.
Min watched Calvin Morrisey move toward the stairs. The beast. He thought that he could get her in a month, that she was so pathetic she’d just—
Her brain caught up with her train of thought, and she straightened.
“Will you tell us what’s wrong?” Liza said.
“A month,” Min said.
He walked down the steps and made his way through the crowd, ignoring the come-hither looks of the women he passed.
He was coming to pick her up.
Suppose she let him.
Suppose for the next three weeks she made him pay by stringing him along and then took him to Di’s wedding. He wouldn’t leave her; he had to stick for a month to win his damn bet. All she had to do was say no to sex for three weeks, drag him to her sister’s wedding, and then leave his ass cold.
Min settled back against the bar and examined the idea from all sides. He more than deserved to be tortured for three weeks. And in that three weeks she could figure out a way to make David suffer, too. And her mother would have somebody beautiful to point out to people at the wedding as her date. It was a plan, and as far as she could see, it was all good.
The bartender came back and Min said, “Rum and Diet Coke, please. A double.”
“That’s your third,” Liza said. “And fourth. The aspartame alone will make you insane. What are you doing?”
“Was he mean to you?” Bonnie said. “What happened?”
“I didn’t talk to him.” Min waved them away. “Move down the bar a couple of feet, will you? I’m about to get hit on and you’re cramping my style.”
“We missed something,” Liza said to Bonnie.
“Move,” Bonnie said, and pushed Liza down the bar.
Min turned away when the bartender brought her drink, so when The Beast spoke from beside her, she jerked her head up and caught the full force of him unprepared: hot dark eyes, perfect cheekbones, and a mouth a woman would betray her moral fiber to bite into. Her heart kicked up into her throat, and she swallowed hard to get it back where it belonged.
“I have a problem,” he said, and his voice was low and smooth, warm enough to be charming, rich enough to clog arteries.
Dark chocolate, Min thought and looked at him blankly, keeping her breathing slow. “Problem?”
“Well, usually my line is ‘Can I buy you a drink?’ but you have one.” He smiled at her, radiating testosterone through his expensive suit.
“Well, that is a problem.” She started to turn away.
“So what I thought,” he said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned closer to her and made her heart pound, “was that we could go somewhere else, and I could buy you dinner.”
The closer he got, the better he looked. He was the used car salesman of seducers, Min decided, trying to get her distance back. You could never get a good deal from a used car salesman; they sold cars all the time and you only bought a couple in a lifetime so they always won. Statistically speaking, you were toast before you walked on the lot. She could only imagine how many women this guy had mutilated in his lifetime. The mind boggled.
His smile had disappeared while he waited for her answer, and he looked vulnerable now, taking a chance on asking her out. He faked vulnerable very well. Remember, she told herself, the son of a bitch is doing this for ten bucks. Actually, he was trying to do her for ten bucks. Cheapskate. Suddenly, breathing normally was not a problem.
“Dinner?” she said.
“Yes.” He bent still closer. “Somewhere quiet where we can talk. You look like someone with interesting things to say. And I’m somebody who’d like to hear them.”
Min smiled at him. “That’s a terrible line. Does it usually work for you?”
He froze for a second, and then he segued from sincere to boyish again. “Well, it has up till now.”
“It must be your voice,” Min said. “You deliver it beautifully.”
“Thank you.” He straightened. “Let’s try this again.” He held out his hand. “I’m Calvin Morrisey, but my friends call me Cal.”
“Min Dobbs.” She shook his hand and dropped it before it could feel warm in her grasp. “And my friends would call me foolhardy if I left this bar with a stranger.”
“Wait.” He got out his wallet and pulled out a twenty. “This is cab fare. If I get fresh, you get a cab.”
Liza would take the twenty and then dump him. There was a plan, but Liza didn’t need a wedding date. What else would Liza do? Min plucked the twenty from his fingers. “If you get fresh, I’ll break your nose.” She folded the twenty, unbuttoned her top two blouse buttons, and tucked the bill into the V of her sensible cotton bra so that only a thin green edge showed. That was one good thing about packing extra pounds, you got cleavage to burn.
She looked up and caught his eyes looking down, and she waited for him to make some comment, but he smiled again. “Fair enough,” he said, “let’s go eat,” and she reminded herself to ignore what a beautiful mouth he had since it was full of forked tongue.
“First, promise me no more lame lines,” she said, and watched his jaw clench.
“Anything you want,” he said.
Min shook her head. “Another line. I suppose you can’t help it. And free food is always good.” She picked up her pur
se from the bar. “Let’s go.”
She walked away before he could say anything else, and he followed her, past a dumbfounded Liza and a delighted Bonnie, across the floor and up onto the landing by the door, and the last thing she saw as they left was David looking outraged.
The evening was turning out much better than she’d expected.
Chapter Two
Liza scowled at the empty doorway. This was not good. When Calvin Morrisey came back in and spoke to David for a moment, it didn’t get better.
“Do you suppose it was the booze?” Bonnie asked.
Liza thought fast. “I don’t know what it was, but I don’t like it. Why was he hitting on her?”
Bonnie frowned. “It’s not like you to be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.” Liza transferred her scowl to Bonnie. “Think about it. Min sends out no signals, he’s never talked to her so he can’t know how great she is, and she’s dressed like a nun with an MBA. But he crosses a crowded bar to pick her up—”
“It’s possible,” Bonnie said.
“—right after he’s talked to David,” Liza finished, nodding to the landing where a red-faced David was now moving in on the brunette.
“Oh.” Bonnie looked stricken. “Oh, no.”
“There’s only one thing we can do.” Liza squared her shoulders. “We’ve got to find out what Calvin the Beast is up to.”
“How—”
Liza nodded at the mezzanine. “He was with those two guys. Which one do you want, the big dumb-looking blond or the bullet head?”
Bonnie followed her eyes to the landing and sighed. “The blond. He looks harmless. The bullet head looks like all hands, and I’m not up to that tonight.”
“Well, I am.” Liza put her drink on the bar and leaned back. The bullet head was looking right at her. “The last time I saw a brow that low I was watching slides in anthropology class.” She met his stare dead on for a full five seconds. Then she turned back to the bar. “Two minutes.”
“It’s a crowded room, Lize,” Bonnie said. “Give him three.”
David had watched Cal open the street door for Min and felt a flare of jealous rage. It wasn’t that he wanted to kick Cal. He always wanted to kick Cal. The guy never broke a sweat, never made a bad business move, never lost a bet, and never hit on a woman and missed. Your therapist warned you about this, he told himself, but he knew it wasn’t just his need to be first in everything. This time the jealousy had an extra twist.
Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me Page 39