Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me

by Jennifer Crusie

  “Nope,” Tony said as Bonnie came back from the bathroom. “I don’t date the insane. Well, not until you.”

  “Do you date the insane?” Bonnie said to Roger with interest as she sat down.

  “No, no, Cal, not me,” Roger said, almost falling off his chair. “I hardly ever date.”

  “It’s all right, baby.” Bonnie patted his knee. “You’re allowed to date.”

  “I don’t want to date,” Roger said and Tony rolled his eyes.

  “So that’s Cal’s old girlfriend.” Liza stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Wait a minute,” Tony said and caught her arm. “Why do you care about Cal’s love life?”

  “He’s dating my best friend,” Liza said, trying to sound innocent. “I’m curious.”

  “What I meant by the not-dating thing,” Roger said to Bonnie, “was not dating anybody but you.”

  “I really don’t expect monogamy on the third date,” Bonnie said.

  “Okay,” Roger said. “But it’s here anyway.”

  “Am I going to have to put a chain on you?” Tony said to Liza. He stopped to contemplate that for a moment and then shook his head. “Forget the chains. Stay away from Cynthie. She has psychology on the brain. Probably because she’s a psychologist, but still, she comes up with some very whacko stuff.”

  “Analyzed you, did she?” Liza said, looking back across the bar.

  “The not-dating-other-people is just for me, of course,” Roger said to Bonnie. “You don’t have to just date me. Unless you want to.”

  Tony shook his head. “She has this insane four-steps-to-love theory that she thinks explains all relationships.”

  “Oh,” Liza said, taken aback.

  “Which is dumb because chaos theory explains relationships,” Tony said, tugging her back into her seat.

  “What?” Liza said, trying to pull her arm away.

  “Human relationships, like the weather, cannot be predicted,” Tony said, holding on, and Liza sat down again to relieve the pressure on her arm. “Take, for example, Min and Cal. Cal’s a complex dynamical system who’s trying to maintain stability by not dating.”

  “He’s not dating?” Liza said.

  “No,” Tony said. “Can you believe it? That alone is making him unstable. The man is not good at celibacy. Then he meets Min, a disturbance in his environment. He begins to move at random because of the disturbance, trying to find stability, but he’s caught in the field of her attraction, and starts bouncing off the sides of that field at random, never repeating himself but still caught in her pattern. She’s the strange attractor.”

  “Uh huh,” Liza said. “And what good is all of this?”

  Tony leaned closer. “Cynthie thinks relationships follow a pattern and that you can predict them. But how can you? People are complex, the disturbances in their lives are complex, and the attractors in their lives are complex. People in love are pure chaos theory.”

  “Okay,” Liza said, still confused.

  “That’s why Cynthie is crazy,” Tony said, letting go of her. “She thinks love can be analyzed and explained. It can’t.”

  Liza sat back and considered Tony for the first time. Somehow he didn’t look dumb anymore, and it wasn’t because of whatever the hell chaos theory was. It was because he was interested in what he was saying. When he cared, he was smart.

  “What?” Tony said.

  “Have you ever been in love?” Liza said.

  “No,” Tony said. “I don’t think it’s going to happen.” He grinned at her. “It would cause too much disturbance in my environment.”

  Liza frowned. “So why don’t you like Cynthie?”

  “She tried to pin Cal down. She analyzed him and thought she knew him. He deserves better than that. He should be with somebody who’s willing to face the chaos. No rules, no conditions, no theories, no safety nets. The way Bonnie is with Roger.”

  Liza looked over at Bonnie, laughing with Roger. “You’re right. We all deserve that.”

  “Good,” Tony said. “Then you don’t have to talk to Cynthie.”

  Roger said something, and Tony turned away to answer him, and Liza got up and went to meet Cynthie.

  When Liza slid into a seat and said, “Hi, I’m Liza,” Cynthie looked up and did a double take.

  “Hi,” she said, sounding surprised, almost as if she recognized her. “I’m Cynthie. Do we know each other?”

  “No,” Liza said. “But your ex is dating a friend of mine. Tell me everything you know about Calvin Morrisey.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Liza sat back and thought, Chaos theory, my ass, Calvin Morrisey has a pattern. “I knew it,” she said to Cynthie. “I knew he was going to break her heart. How many times has he done this?”

  Cynthie shrugged. “I was at a party one night after we broke up, and I started talking to a woman who had dated him, too. Then somebody else drifted over. By the end of the night there were four of us, all the same story. A couple of months, life is good, you think ‘He’s the one’ and then he kisses you on the cheek, says ‘Have a nice life,’ and he’s gone.”

  “You’re kidding,” Liza said. “And nobody’s hunted him down with a tire iron?”

  “You can’t,” Cynthie said. “What are you going to say, ‘You dated me for two months, how dare you leave me?’ You’d sound demented.” She sipped her drink. “And he doesn’t do it on purpose,” she added, for what must have been the thousandth time.

  “You know, I don’t care,” Liza said. “I just don’t want him hurting Min.”

  “Maybe they’re not that serious,” Cynthie said. “Do they have anything in common?”

  “Not that I can tell,” Liza said.

  “Are they relaxed together?”

  “No,” Liza said. “Mostly they fight.”

  “Do they have shared secrets? In-jokes?”

  Liza shook her head. “They don’t know each other that well.”

  Cynthie drew her fingertip around her glass. “Do you like him? I mean, have you told Min you don’t like him?”

  “Hell, yes,” Liza said. “Bonnie and I have both warned her.”

  “Hmmm.” Cynthie smiled at Liza. “Does he have a nickname for her yet?”

  “A nickname?” Liza tried to remember. “He calls her by her last name sometimes. Never anything like ‘pookie’ or ‘baby doll.’”

  “How about her?” Cynthie said. “Does she have a nickname for him?”

  “The beast,” Liza said. “I don’t think it’s affectionate.”

  Cynthie laughed. “Then why is she dating him?”

  “I’m not sure she is,” Liza said. “But I think she’s going to. I think she’s falling for him even though she doesn’t want to.”

  Cynthie stopped laughing.

  “And that worries me,” Liza said. “She’s a terrific person, she doesn’t deserve to be dallied with. Can you give me some pointers on how he works?”

  Cynthie straightened and nodded. “Sure. Has he given her anything yet?”

  “He’s only known her a week,” Liza said. “I don’t . . .” She stopped when Cynthie shook her head.

  “If he’s serious at all about her, he’ll give her something. He’ll find out what she wants most, and he’ll make sure she gets it. He has to, it’s this pattern he’s fallen into because of his mother.”

  “His mother?” Liza said.

  “She’s withholding,” Cynthie said. “He only knows conditional love. So he acts out the same pattern with every woman he meets, trying to win her love. And then when he gets it, the pattern breaks because if she loves him, she’s not a stand-in for his mother, and he moves on, to make somebody else love him.”

  “He’s got an Oedipus complex?” Liza said, appalled.

  “No,” Cynthie said. “She just set up the pattern. He’s not in love with her.”

  “So that means the more Min rejects him . . .” Liza said.

  “The more he’ll chase her,” Cynthie said, all traces of amusement g
one. “He can’t help it. He doesn’t even know he does it. Does she collect anything?”

  “Snow globes,” Liza said, and then when Cynthie tried to hide her contempt, added, “It’s not her fault. It was a family thing that got out of hand.”

  “He’ll buy her a snow globe,” Cynthie said. “And it’ll be the perfect one, the one she’s been missing or always wanted or maybe didn’t even know she wanted until he gives it to her. And when he does, you get her out fast, or it’ll be all over but the weeping.”

  “Snow globe,” Liza said, looking back at the table where Cal had joined the group after working late.

  “He’s not a bad person,” Cynthie said again. “He’d never hurt anyone on purpose. He’s just got this . . .”

  “Pathology where he mutilates women because of his mother,” Liza said. “I think that was Norman Bates’s story, too.”

  “He’d never hurt her physically,” Cynthie said, shocked.

  “Well, he’s not going to hurt her emotionally either,” Liza said. “Thank you very much, I appreciate this.”

  “My pleasure,” Cynthie said. Liza thought, Your pleasure?, and must have looked at her oddly, because Cynthie added, “To help. Out. Your friend.” She looked down at her drink. “I don’t want her to get hurt.”

  “Me, either,” Liza said, and headed back to the others.

  When she got back to the table, Tony was saying to Min, “I don’t believe it.”

  “Believe it,” Min said. “There are ways you can tell.”

  “Tell what?” Liza said, sitting down beside Tony but keeping an eye on Cal.

  “If a guy is worth dating early in the game,” Min said. “We were talking about the old dating tests we used in college.”

  “Tests,” Cal said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “I hate tests.”

  “Like what?” Tony asked Liza.

  Liza shrugged. “Like you ask him over to watch a video.”

  “This is good,” Tony said. “Videos are good.”

  “And you show him Say Anything,” Bonnie said.

  “Chick flick,” Tony said.

  “You flunked this test before it started,” Liza said.

  Bonnie went on. “And then you wait until he’s watching the scene where John Cusack brushes the broken glass out of Ione Skye’s path.”

  Liza watched Cal grin at Min, and Min shake her head at Cal. Secrets, she thought, and straightened a little in her chair.

  “And then what?” Tony said.

  “And if you say . . .” Bonnie deepened her voice. “ ‘What the hell? She’s wearing shoes, ain’t she?’ you’re gone.”

  “Well, she was,” Tony said, exasperated.

  “But they were open-toed,” Roger said.

  “You get extra points for noticing they were open-toed,” Bonnie told him.

  “Great,” Tony said. “The guy with the foot fetish gets extra points.”

  “Okay, Minnie,” Cal said to Min, “the guy says that and then what happens?”

  Minnie? Liza thought and waited for Min to savage him.

  “I become ill with something communicable,” Min said, trying not to smile.

  “How ill?” Cal said, grinning at her.

  Damn it, Liza thought.

  “There will be retching,” Min said, and grinned back.

  “And in your case, I will throw up on your shoes,” Liza said to Tony, needing to yell at somebody.

  “What happens to me?” Roger asked Bonnie.

  “Wonderful things,” Bonnie said, slipping her arm into his.

  “I hate you,” Tony said to Roger. “You keep fucking up the curve.”

  Min laughed, and Cal watched her laugh, and Liza thought, Oh, no. He looked like a man with a goal, and she knew what it was. I catch you with a snow globe, buddy, she thought, and you are dead meat.

  Cal glanced over at her and froze. “What?” he said.

  “Nothing,” Liza said and smiled at him with intent. “Nothing at all.”

  “Who’s the lucky woman tonight?” Shanna said when Cal went to the bar for refills.

  “No woman,” Cal said. “I’m resting. How’s Elvis? Still singing ‘She’ on permanent rotation?”

  “Don’t knock Elvis. If he was a girl, I’d marry him.” She craned her head to look around Cal. “I see the Goon Brothers and two women. Let me guess. The tall skinny redhead is yours.”

  “No,” Cal said. “Refills all around for them, Scotch for me.”

  Shanna looked past him again. “You’re with the little blonde in the blue? She looks vacant to me.”

  “Misleading,” Cal said. “But no, not her, either. She’s Roger’s.”

  “Then where—” Shanna began.

  “Hi,” Min said from behind him, and he turned, smiling automatically. “I completely understand your need to flirt with the bartender, but Tony sent me to remind you to hurry.”

  Shanna leaned over the bar and stuck her hand out to Min. “Hi, I’m Shanna, Cal’s next-door neighbor.”

  Min looked surprised but took it. “I’m Min.” She hesitated, and then she leaned over the bar. “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “Oh, please do,” Shanna said, looking deep into her eyes.

  “Excuse me?” Cal said, not sure whether he was annoyed or turned on that Shanna was hitting on Min in front of him.

  “You have the most beautiful hair,” Min said, ignoring him. “How do you keep it from frizzing?”

  “I don’t wash it,” Shanna said. “Just rinse and condition it. It’ll never frizz on you again.”

  “You’re kidding,” Min said. “I’m going to try that. I’m so sick of pinning my hair up that I’ll try anything.”

  “Well, come back in when you let it down,” Shanna said. “I want to see it.”

  Me, too, Cal thought.

  “I will do that,” Min said. “Thank you.” She turned back to Cal. “Do you need help carrying the drinks?”

  “Yes,” Cal said before Shanna could say “No” and hand him a tray.

  “I’ll be right back then,” Min said, and went over to the jukebox.

  Cal leaned on the bar as he watched her cross the room. “Get those drinks, babe.”

  “Tell me she’s bi,” Shanna said, watching Min, too. “The things she could do with that mouth . . .”

  “The things I could do with that mouth,” Cal said. The things I have done with that mouth. He felt a little dizzy again. Well, it was warm in the bar.

  “I’ll get those drinks,” Shanna said and left while Cal watched Min flip cards on the jukebox. He focused on the gorgeous curve of her neck as she read the song titles. She looked juicy, bitable there, and that set off a whole new train of thought that he told himself was all right as long as he didn’t do anything about it.

  When Shanna came back with six glasses and mugs on a tray, she said, “So how long have you been seeing her?”

  “I met her a week ago, but we’re not—”

  “Early yet.” Shanna nodded. “She’s got another month, probably two before you wander off. Tell her nice things about me so I can lay a foundation.”

  “For what?” Cal said.

  “She’s going to need comforting when you tell her to have a nice life. I will be that comfort. Are you sleeping with her yet?”

  “I’m not even dating her,” Cal said as Min fed some coins into the jukebox and punched in some numbers. “Give me my Scotch. I think we’re going to be listening to Elvis Presley and I will need it.”

  “Not dating her, huh? Good news for me.” Shanna slid his glass across to him.

  Cal shook his head. “No. She does not play for your team. And you’re still grief-stricken, remember?”

  “I’m feeling much better,” Shanna said, as “The Devil in Disguise” boomed out of the jukebox. “How do you know she doesn’t play for my team?”

  “I kissed her. She plays for mine. Although not for me.”

  “Not for you, huh?” Shanna took two fives from her p
ocket and slapped them on the bar. “I got ten bucks says you can’t kiss her again right here.”

  “No kidding.” Cal laughed at the thought of the damage Min would do to him if he tried. “Also no bet.”

  Shanna tilted her head. “Okay. I got ten bucks says you can kiss her right here.”

  “I’ve explained this to you,” Cal said. “You have to figure the odds and then take the side that’s probable. You don’t just flip a coin.”

  Shanna tapped her finger on the two fives. “Ten says you can do it.”

  “What’s with you?” Cal said. “When did you turn into somebody who likes to watch?”

  “I’m just—” Shanna began.

  “Hey,” Min said, from behind Cal, startling them both. “I thought you weren’t going to bet on me anymore.”

  Cal looked down at her exasperated face. Her lush lower lip stuck out a little, not enough for a pout but enough to remind him of why he’d been staying away from her. “I never said that. Besides, what makes you think I’m—”

  “You’re both staring at me and there’s money on the bar,” Min said. “We’ve been here before.” Her eyes were dark, crackling with heat now as she scowled at him, and he began to breathe a little faster, remembering.

  “He didn’t make the bet,” Shanna said. “I did. In fact, he—”

  Cal took a ten out of his pocket and slapped it on the bar over Shanna’s two fives. “You’re on,” he said, and leaned down to Min.

  Chapter Seven

  “Oh, yeah, he’s innocent,” Min said and then stopped as Cal leaned closer, giving her plenty of time to back away.

  Her eyes widened and her lips parted, and she said, “Uh,” and then he kissed her, gently, wanting to remember every second this time, the way she felt and tasted, soft and sweet, and he felt her suck in her breath, and then she kissed him back, giving him everything again, and the voice in his head said, THIS ONE, and he forgot his good intentions and cradled her face in his hand and lost himself in her.

  When he broke the kiss, her eyes were half-closed and her cheeks were flushed. “Did you win?” she said, breathless, and he said, “Yes,” and kissed her again, harder this time, feeling her hand clutch his shirt, and then something smacked him on the back of the head and knocked him into her, and she jerked away and said, “Ouch. Ouch.”