He smiled at her, patted her hand, and left, and Min sat at her desk and felt dull, frumpy, and boring. Not a gambler. Sensible as usual. She let herself think about kissing Cal in the park, his mouth hot on hers, his hands hard on her, and she felt the heat rise all over again. That hadn’t been sensible, that hadn’t been a plan. And now she was never going to see him again.
She looked down at her report and realized she’d perforated it. She must have been stabbing it, the Norman Bates of statistical analysis. “Great,” she said, and tried to pull the pages apart. The top sheet ripped, and her phone rang, and she picked it up and snarled, “Minerva Dobbs,” ready to perforate the caller this time.
“Good morning, Minerva,” Cal said, and all the air rushed out of Min’s lungs. “How did you get that godawful name?”
Breathe. Deep breaths. Very deep breaths.
“Oh,” she said. “This is good. Grief about my name from a guy named Calvin.” I do not care that he called. I am totally unaffected by this. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was convinced he could hear it over the phone.
“I was named after my rich uncle Robert,” Cal said, “which turned out to be a total waste when he left everything to the whales. What’s your excuse?”
“My mother wanted a goddess,” Min said faintly.
“Well, she got one,” Cal said. “I take it back, it’s the perfect name for you.”
“And my father’s mother was named Minnie,” Min said, trying to get back to offhand and unfazed. “It was a compromise. Why isn’t your name Robert?”
“I got his last name,” Cal said. “Which is good. I don’t see myself as a Bob.”
“Bob Morrisey.” Min leaned back in her chair, pretending to be cool. “That weird guy in the shipping department.”
“The insurance agent you can trust,” Cal said.
“The used car salesman you can’t,” Min said.
“Whereas Calvin Morrisey is the old fart who started the company in 1864,” Cal said. “Or in this case, the guy who has your shoe.”
“Shoe?”
“Red ribbons, funky heel, big dopey flower.”
“My shoe.” Min sat up, delighted. “I didn’t think I’d ever see it again.”
“Well, you won’t unless you come to lunch with me,” Cal said. “I’m holding it for ransom. There’s a gun to its heel right now.”
“I have lunch at my desk,” Min began, and thought, Oh, for crying out loud, could I be any more pathetic?
“Emilio is experimenting with a lunch menu. He needs you. I need you.”
“I can’t,” Min said while every fiber in her being said, Yes, yes, anything. Thank God her fiber couldn’t talk.
“You can’t let Emilio down,” Cal went on. “He loves you. We’ll have chicken marsala. Come on, live a little. A very little.”
A very little. Even Cal knew she was a sensible, non-gambling, plan-ridden loser. “Yes,” Min said, her heart starting to pound again. “I would love to get my shoe back and have chicken marsala for lunch.”
“Keep in mind, you have to eat it with me,” Cal said. “You’re not seeing that shoe until you eat.”
“I can stand that,” Min said, and felt lighter all over. Then she hung up and looked at her report.
She’d been drawing hearts on it, tiny ones, dozens of them.
“Oh, my Lord,” Min said and put her head on her desk.
When Min got to Emilio’s, a dark-haired teenage boy at the door said, “You looking for Cal?” and when she nodded, said, “He’s at your table,” and jerked his head into the restaurant.
“I have a table?” Min said, but then she saw Cal sitting by the window at the table they’d had Wednesday night, and she lost her breath for a minute. I keep forgetting how beautiful he is, she thought, and watched as he sat relaxed in his chair, his dark eyes fixed on the street outside, his profile perfect. He was tapping his fingers on the table, and his hands looked strong, and Min remembered how good they’d felt on her and thought, Get out of here. Then he saw her and straightened and smiled, his eyes lighting as if he were glad to see her, and she smiled back and went to meet him. Charm Boy, she thought, and slowed down again, but he already had her chair pulled out for her.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, and she slid into the chair thinking, He’s up to something, be careful. Then she noticed him looking at the floor and said, “What?” her voice cracking with nerves.
“Shoes,” he said. “What are you wearing?”
“You sound like an obscene phone call,” she said, trying to keep her treacherous voice steady, but she stuck her foot out so he could see her blue reptile slides, open-toed to show off the matching blue nail polish.
He shook his head. “You can do better. The toes are nice, though.”
“These are work shoes,” she said, annoyance clearing up her nerves. “Also, you have my red shoe so I couldn’t wear those. Can I have my shoe back?”
“Not until after lunch,” he said, sitting down across from her. “It’s my only leverage.”
“Have you had this foot fetish long?” she said, as he passed her the bread basket.
“Just since I met you,” he said. “Suddenly, there’s a whole new world out there.”
“Glad to know I’ve made an impact,” she said, and was appalled to realize that she really was. It was enough to make her nerves come back. He doesn’t matter. She shoved the bread basket back to him, determined to be virtuous in consumption if not in thought, and said, “So who’s the charmer at the door? He needs lessons from you.”
“Emilio’s nephew.” Cal picked up a piece of bread and broke it. “His tableside manner could use some work.”
“Doesn’t Emilio have somebody else to put up front?” Min picked up her napkin to keep her hands off the bread. “He can’t be good for business.”
“Brian’s the socially adept one in the family,” Cal said. “His brothers are back in the kitchen where they won’t hurt anybody. Fortunately, they can cook. I already ordered. Salad, chicken marsala, no pasta.”
“Oh, good,” Min said, “because I’m starving. Did you know that forty percent of all pasta sold is spaghetti?” Geek, she thought, and tried to suppress her statistical instinct while she smiled at him. “I think that shows a huge lack of imag—”
Brian slung a salad in front of her and another in front of Cal. “Your chicken’s up in about fifteen,” he told Cal. “You want wine with that?”
“Yes, please,” Cal said to him. “I thought you were working on your finesse.”
“Not with you,” Brian said. “I know it’s chicken, but for you, red wine, right?”
“Right,” Cal said. “Now ask me what kind of red.”
“Whatever Emilio puts in the glass,” Brian said, and left.
“Just a little ray of sunshine,” Min said. “But enough about him. Give me the ten bucks.”
“Ten bucks?” Cal looked beautifully blank and then shook his head. “There wasn’t a bet. Stop harassing me for cash.”
“You asked me out without a bet?” Min said.
“No money will change hands,” Cal said. “Except for me paying the tab.”
“We can go Dutch,” Min offered.
“No, we can’t.”
“Why not? I can afford it. We’re not dating. Why—”
“I invited you, I pay,” Cal said, his face beginning to set into that stubborn look that exasperated her.
“That means if I invite you, I pay,” Min said.
“No, I pay then, too,” Cal said. “So tell me who Diana, Wet, and Worse are.”
“That’s why you invited me to lunch?” Min said, infusing her voice with as much skepticism as possible.
“No.” Cal put his head in his hands. “Could we just for once meet like regular people? Smile at each other, make small talk, pretend you don’t hate me?”
“I don’t hate you,” Min said, shocked. “I like you. I mean, you have flaws—”
“What flaws?” Cal said. �
�Of course I have them, but I’ve been on my best behavior with you. Except for hitting you in the eye and attacking you on a picnic table. How are you?”
“I’m fine,” Min said, putting as much chipper as she could into her voice. “I’m turning over a new leaf. Taking risks. Like having lunch with a wolf.”
“I’m a wolf?” Cal said.
“Oh, please,” Min said. “You picked me up on Friday with ‘Hello, little girl.’ Who did you think you were channeling, the prince?”
Emilio appeared with wine before Cal could say anything, and Min beamed at him, grateful for the rescue. “Emilio, my darling. I forgot to mention cake boxes. Two hundred cake boxes.”
“Already on it,” Emilio said. “Nonna said you’d need them. She said to get four-inch-square boxes for three-inch-square cakes.”
“I’m getting the boxes,” Min said, nodding. “Sure. Great. Fine. Your grandmother is an angel and you are my hero. And of course, a genius with food.”
“And you are my favorite customer.” Emilio kissed her cheek and disappeared back into the kitchen.
“I love him,” she told Cal.
“I noticed,” Cal said. “Been seeing him behind my back, have you?”
“Yes,” Min said. “We’ve been having conversations about cake.”
“Whoa,” Cal said. “For you, that’s talking dirty.”
“Funny.” Min stabbed her salad again and bit into the crisp greens. Emilio’s dressing was tangy and light, a miracle all by itself. “God, I love Emilio. This salad is fabulous. Which is not a word I usually use with ‘salad.’ ”
“Tell me about the cake,” Cal said, starting on his own salad.
“My sister Diana is getting married in three weeks,” Min said, glad to be on a topic that wasn’t dangerous. “Her fiancé said he knew this great baker and that he would order the cake as a surprise. And then the surprise turned out to be that he hadn’t ordered the cake.”
“And the wedding’s still on?” Cal said.
“Yes. My sister says it’s her fault for not reminding him.”
“Your sister does not sound like you,” Cal said.
“My sister is my exact opposite,” Min said. “She’s a darling.”
Cal frowned. “Which makes you what?”
“Me?” Min stopped eating, surprised. “I’m okay.”
Cal shook his head as Emilio appeared with a steaming platter of chicken marsala. When he and Min had assured each other of their undying devotion, he left, and Cal served chicken and mushrooms. “So how do Wet and Worse figure in this cake story?”
“They don’t,” Min said. “Except that they’re my sister’s bridesmaids. But do not tell anybody I called them that.” She ate her first bite of chicken, savoring it, and then teased an errant drop of sauce from her lower lip. “Do you think—”
“Don’t do that,” Cal said, his voice flat.
“What?” Min blinked at him. “Ask questions?”
“Lick your lip. What were you going to ask me?”
“Why? Bad manners?” Min said, dangerously.
“No,” Cal said. “It distracts me. You have a great mouth. I know. I was there once. What were you going to ask me?”
Min met his eyes, and he stared back, unblinking. Oh, she thought and tried to remember what they’d been talking about, but it was hard because all she could think about was how he’d been there once, and how good he’d felt, and how hot his eyes were on her now, and how much she—
“You guys okay?” Brian said.
“What?” Cal said, jerking his head up.
“Is there something wrong with the chicken?” Brian frowned at them both. “You guys looked strange.”
“No,” Min said, picking up her fork again. “The chicken is wonderful.”
“Okay,” Brian said. “You need anything else?”
“A waiter with some class?” Cal said.
“Yeah, right, like I’d waste that on you,” Brian said, and wandered off.
“So anyway,” Min said, scrambling for a safer topic, “when Diana told me about the cake, I turned to Emilio in my hour of need, and he called his grandmother. So he’s my hero.”
“Wait’ll you taste the cake,” Cal said. “She only makes it for weddings and it’s like nothing else in this world.”
“When did you eat wedding cake?” Min said.
“When Emilio got married,” Cal said. “When my brother got married. When everybody I’ve ever known got married. Tony, Roger, and I are the last hold-outs, so there have been a lot of weddings. And now Roger’s going down for the count.”
“Well, at least you and Tony will have each other,” Min said brightly. “So you have a brother. Younger or older?”
“Older. Reynolds.”
Min stopped eating. “Reynolds? Reynolds Morrisey?”
“Yes,” Cal said. “Husband to Bink, father to Harry.”
“Isn’t there a fancy law firm called Reynolds Morrisey?”
“Yes,” Cal said. “My father, his partner John Reynolds, and my brother.” He didn’t sound too thrilled about any of them.
“Cozy,” Min said. “So how is Harry?”
“Permanently scarred from watching us on a picnic table.”
Min winced. “Really?”
“Hard to say. I haven’t seen him since. Bink probably has him in therapy by now. So what’s your take on Bonnie and Roger?”
“They’ll be engaged before fall,” Min said, and they began to discuss Bonnie and Roger and other safe topics for the rest of the meal. When they were finished and Cal had signed the charge slip, he said, “So lunch with me is risky. Does that mean you need an apology for our last lunch?”
“No.” Min smiled and tried to look unfazed. “I’ve been working on the theory that if we don’t talk about it, it didn’t happen. Although a lot of people seem to know about it. Greg, for example. He ratted us out, and now my mother wants you to come to dinner.” Cal looked taken aback for a minute, and she said, “I told her you were a complete stranger so dinner was unlikely.” Then out of the blue, she blurted, “So what was that on Saturday?”
“Well.” Cal took a deep breath. “That was chemistry. And it was phenomenal. I’d be more than interested in doing that again, especially naked and horizontal, but—”
Min’s pulse picked up, but she slapped herself in the forehead to forestall him and her own treacherous imagination.
“What?” he said.
“I’m remembering why you never ask guys to tell you the truth,” she said. “Because sometimes they do.”
“My point is,” Cal said, “that Liza was right, I had no business kissing you like that because I don’t want anything that serious. I just got out of a relationship that was a lot more intense than I’d realized and—”
Min frowned. “How could it have been more intense than you’d realized?”
“I thought we were just having a good time,” Cal said. “She thought we were getting married. It ended okay, there are no hard feelings—”
Min looked at him in amazement. “She wanted to get married, you didn’t, but there are no hard feelings.”
“She said if I wasn’t ready to commit, she’d have to move on,” Cal said. “It was pretty cut and dried.”
“And you’re the guy who’s supposed to be a wizard at understanding women. It was not cut and dried. She either hates you, or she thinks you’re coming back.”
Cal shook his head. “Cynthie’s very practical. She knows it’s over. And so are we because, even though it was great, this is not something either one of us wants to pursue.”
“Right,” Min said, understanding completely if not happily. “It would be different if we were at all compatible. I’m not averse to commitment, especially if it’d be that much fun, but the last thing I need is to fall for somebody I already know is no good for me just because he kisses like a god. Also, I’m waiting for the reincarnation of Elvis and you are not him. But—”
She stopped because Cal had a
strange look on his face.
“What?” she said. “I was kidding about Elvis.”
“I’m no good for you,” he said, “but I kiss like a god?”
Min considered it. “Pretty much. Why? Did you have a different take on it?”
Cal opened his mouth and then stopped and shrugged. “I guess not. I don’t think you’d be bad for me, I just can’t take the hassle. You’re not a restful woman.”
“This is true,” Min said. “But you ask for it. You’re such a wolf.”
“I’m retired,” Cal said. “All I want now is some peace and quiet. I just need a break.”
“That’s my plan,” Min said. “I’m taking a break from dating.”
“Until Elvis shows up,” Cal said.
“Right. As far as I can see, there’s no downside to this at all.”
“No sex,” Cal said.
“I can stand that,” Min said.
“Yeah, you’re good at denying yourself things.”
“Hey,” Min said, insulted. “We were doing just fine there and then you had to take a shot at me.”
“Sorry,” Cal said.
They got up to go, Min kissed Emilio good-bye, and they went out into the street.
“Okay, it’s broad daylight and my office is only six blocks away,” Min said. “You don’t have to walk me.”
“Fair enough.” Cal held out his hand. “We’ll probably meet again at Roger and Bonnie’s wedding. In case we don’t, have a nice life.”
Min shook his hand and dropped it. “Likewise. Best of luck in the future.”
She turned to go and he said, “Wait a minute,” and made her heart lurch. But when she turned around, he was holding her shoe, the red ribbons fluttering in the light breeze.
“Right,” she said, taking it. “Thank you very much.”
He held on to it for a moment, looking into her eyes, and then he shook his head and said, “You’re welcome” and let go, and she set off down the street without looking back, full of excellent food but not nearly as happy as she should have been.
Charm Boy, she thought, and put him out of her mind.
On Tuesday, Min looked at the salad on her desk at lunch and thought, There has to be more to life than this. It was Cal’s fault; she’d had real food in the middle of the day and it had tainted her. Until Cal, she’d never thought about food except as something she couldn’t have. Even before she’d started dieting for the bridesmaid’s dress, there’d been no butter in her life. There should be butter, she thought, and then realized the folly of that.
Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me Page 49