Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me

by Jennifer Crusie

  “Damn it,” he said, swinging around to face Liza. “Stop doing that.”

  “I will if you will,” she said.

  “No, really,” Min said, sounding dazed. “It was okay. It was just another bet.”

  “Scum,” Liza said.

  “Look,” Cal said, trying to catch his breath. “Min can take care of herself.”

  Liza stepped closer. “Yeah, tell me you know her. Tell me you care about her. Tell me you’re going to love her until the end of time.”

  “What is it with you?” Cal said. “I kissed her. It happens.”

  Shanna picked up the twenty bucks on the bar. “And I, for one, am very grateful you did. Thank you very much,”

  “I thought you won,” Min said to Cal. Her eyes were hot, and she was breathing faster, too.

  “I did,” Cal said, falling back into her. “I just lost the bet.”

  “Come on, Stats,” Liza said, pulling on her arm.

  “Right,” Min said, shaking her head a little as if to clear it. “Did anybody see that?”

  “The entire bar was holding up numbers,” Liza said. “It was like the Olympics.”

  “How’d we do?” Cal said, putting an edge on his voice as he cooled off.

  “The Russian judge thought you needed work,” Liza said. “There was hooting.”

  “Well, the Russians are tough,” Cal said. “Could you let go of her, please?”

  “I don’t think so,” Liza said and tugged Min’s arm again.

  “I should go back,” Min said to Cal. “You know. Because of the plan.”

  “What plan?” Cal said.

  “Not dating. Taking a break. Remember? Both of us?”

  “Right,” Cal said, thinking, Why did I think that was a good idea?“ The plan. Waiting for Elvis. Great.” He picked up his Scotch again. “Here’s to the plan.”

  “Yeah, well, have a nice life.” Min picked up the tray of drinks and followed Liza back to the table.

  “So the tall redhead hates you,” Shanna said.

  “Liza,” Cal said. “I have never done a thing to that woman.”

  “I think it’s what you want to do to her friend,” Shanna said. “Still, it does seem like an overreaction. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “Like what?” Cal said. “I am innocent on this one.” No, I’m not.

  “No, you’re not,” Shanna said. “I saw that kiss. And you’re right. She plays for your team.”

  “Not anymore,” Cal said, feeling the back of his head. “We agreed on a plan. Not dating.” He gestured with his glass. “I’m going to drink this and then go home for aspirin.”

  “That’s not going to help,” Shanna said. “Try a cold shower, too.”

  “Good to see you’ve got your sense of humor back,” Cal said, and went home to find some peace and painkillers.

  That week, Min began screening her calls to duck David, who had developed a pressing need to talk to her, but she didn’t need to screen for Cal, who remained annoyingly silent. It was really frustrating avoiding the calls of somebody who didn’t have the decency to pick up a phone. Even the If Dinner turned annoying when Liza told them about meeting Cal’s ex-girlfriend.

  “Cynthie says he’s a great guy,” Liza said. “He’s just caught up in some kind of pathology where he has to make women love him and then leave him. He got conditional love as a child and now he’s desperate for it.”

  Min frowned. “He does not strike me as desperate.”

  Bonnie shook her head. “Me, either. The ex sounds sort of over the top.”

  “Well, she’s a psychologist,” Liza said. “You know how they are. But it does explain why he’d leave such a string of broken hearts behind him and still be the guy we know. I’m suspicious of him but I don’t think he’s cruel. He wouldn’t enjoy dumping them.” She looked back at Min. “Cynthie said one of the things he’d do would be to find things you needed and give them to you. I told her about your snow globes, and she said you should brace yourself for incoming.”

  “He brought me a cat,” Min said, and Liza put down her fork.

  “A cat?” Liza said. “He must be losing his touch. That should have been a snow globe. Where is this cat?”

  “Bedroom,” Min said and Liza got up and went to look. When she came back she said, “It’s the cat from hell. What was he thinking?”

  Min shrugged, not wanting to argue. “He brought me takeout from Emilio’s and it followed him in. And then he saw the snow globes.”

  “And?” Liza said.

  “And he told me I collect couples,” Min said. “Which I had never seen before, but he’s right.”

  Liza opened her mouth to object and then got up and went to the mantel. “I’ll be damned,” she said after a moment. “They’re all couples except mine, unless Captain Hook is dating Maleficent on the sly. How’d I miss this?”

  “Better question is how’d he get it?” Bonnie said.

  Min shook her head. “I think he’s just really, really, really good with people. Empathetic.” She hesitated and then said to Bonnie, “After you said he was dyslexic, I researched it on the net. There are all kinds of barriers—”

  “Do not feel sorry for him,” Liza said.

  “I don’t,” Min said. “Are you kidding? Look at him, he has it all. But he’s had to work for it. Anyway, one of the aspects of dyslexics is that they’re often very empathetic. That’s Cal. He spends all his time looking outward, making sure he understands other people. I don’t think he has much self-knowledge, but he makes sure he knows the people in his world. He knows me.”

  Liza put the villains down with a clunk and came back to the table. “No, he doesn’t. He’s trying—”

  “No,” Min said, losing patience with her. “We talked about my weight. He said I dress like I hate my body.”

  “Good for him,” Liza said. “I mean, he’s a beast, but he’s right on that one. What did he say exactly?”

  Min pushed her plate away. “Lots of things, but the gist was that I had a sexy body and I should dress like I’m proud of it.”

  “Then he asked you to bed,” Liza said.

  “No, then he said we should eat,” Min said. “Oh, and he told me what I was doing wrong on the chicken marsala, so I’m going to try it again.”

  “He brought you food, understood your snow globes, taught you to cook, said you had a sexy body, and left without making a pass,” Bonnie said.

  Min nodded.

  Bonnie looked at Liza. “He is a beast.”

  “No, this is what Cynthie was talking about,” Liza said. “He will fulfill her every need until she falls for him and then he’ll leave.”

  Min bit her lip. “Look, I’m not falling for him, although I swear every time he kisses me, I hear voices and see stars. If nothing else, there’s that bet. Which I asked him about and which he lied about, so it’s over. Really.”

  “Uh huh,” Liza said, clearly not convinced.

  Neither was Min, so on Friday afternoon while she was at work, she very sensibly decided not to go to The Long Shot that night and called her sister instead. “I want to go shopping.”

  “Shopping?” Di said.

  “Somebody told me that I dress like I hate my body.”

  “You do,” Di said. “You want to change? Yes.”

  “Just a little,” Min said, hastily. “I—”

  “I know where we’ll go,” Diana said. “We’re going to transform you!”

  “No,” Min said. “Soften a little, maybe, but not—”

  “I’ll be waiting out front at five,” Di said. “This is going to be so much fun.”

  “Well,” Min said, but Di had already hung up. “Oh. Well. All right.”

  She hung up and decided not to worry about transformation until she was actually in Diana’s clutches. She went back to finishing up her work week, and then, as she was putting on her jacket to go meet Di, the phone rang. When she answered, a woman said, “My name is Elizabeth Morrisey, and I’m
looking for a Min Dobbs who met my son Harrison at Cherry Hill Park a week ago.”

  “Bink?” Min said, dumbfounded.

  “Yes,” the woman said. “Oh, good. I’m so sorry to bother you at work, but I couldn’t find a home listing. Just a moment.” Min heard the phone clunk a little, and then Harry came on. “Min?” he said, breathing hard into the phone.

  “Yes,” she said, grinning. “How are you, Harry?”

  “I’m fine. Are you coming to the park tomorrow?”

  “Well, I wasn’t—”

  “Because you could come to my game,” Harry said, showing an ability to focus that was much like his uncle’s. “It’s at ten o’clock. In the morning. And we could have a doughnut.”

  “Well,” Min said, taken aback.

  Harry breathed into the phone again. He sounded like Darth Vader, only smaller.

  “Sure,” she said. “Why not? I’ll get the doughnuts—”

  “My mom’ll get them,” Harry said. “I told her what kind.”

  “Well, good,” Min said, regrouping. “Thank you for—”

  Harry dropped the phone, and Min heard Bink say, “Say good-bye politely, Harry,” and Harry came back on and said, “Good-bye,” and dropped the phone again.

  “Hello?” Bink said when she’d picked it up.

  “Hello,” Min said, trying not to laugh.

  “We’re still working on our phone skills,” Bink said.

  “He did pretty good,” Min said. “Except for the breathing.”

  “I appreciate this,” Bink said. “Harry has spoken of you often this week.”

  “He has?” Min said, surprised.

  “And your shoes,” Bink said.

  “He’s a lot like his uncle,” Min said.

  “We can only hope,” Bink said. “Tomorrow at ten, then?”

  “Tomorrow at ten,” Min said and sat for a moment after Bink hung up.

  That hadn’t been Cal’s idea. If he’d wanted her there, he’d have called her. He probably didn’t even know she was coming. She finished putting on her jacket and thought about surprising him the next day. It would be good to take him off guard for a change, catch him flatfooted.

  She picked up her purse and went down to meet Diana, suddenly interested in being transformed.

  The next morning, Cal was watching a particularly hopeless outfielder named Bentley try to throw a ball when two cool hands covered his eyes from behind. He smelled lavender and cinnamon and felt a rush of pleasure so intense, he almost sighed. “This is not like you, Minnie,” he said, and then he turned and saw Cynthie, like a cold shower, pulling her hands back. “Cyn?”

  “Hi,” Cynthie said.

  “Sorry,” Cal said, taking a step back. “You wear the same perfume as a friend of mine. Except she doesn’t wear perfume, come to think of it.” Nor does she come to these damn games, he thought, mad at himself for making such a stupid mistake.

  “Perfume,” Cynthie said, looking poleaxed.

  “So,” Cal said, taking another step back. “How’ve you been?” A ball rolled past his feet and he bent to pick it up. “You should get back to the other side of the fence. These kids have no control.”

  “Right,” Cynthie said, swallowing. “I just wanted to say, ‘Hi!’”

  “Hi,” Cal said. Something in the bleachers caught his eye and he looked past her to see Harry climbing up to the top. “Where the hell is he—” Cal began and then he looked past Harry and saw Min, sitting at the top, her hair cut short in loose curls that glinted in the sun. She was wearing a filmy, flowing white shirt, and her face lit up when she saw Harry so that she looked positively angelic, and he lost his breath for a moment. “She cut her hair,” he said out loud, and Cynthie said, “What?” and followed his eyes.

  Cal nodded to the bleachers, recovering. “Go up there and send Harry back down here, will you? He’s supposed to be playing ball, not flirting with older women.”

  “Right,” Cynthie said, in that brittle tone that Cal knew meant “I’m very upset, but I’m going to be an adult about it.”

  “You okay?” he said to her.

  “Just fine,” Cynthie said, even more brittle, and went around the fence to climb the bleachers.

  What’s her problem? Cal thought and then forgot her to look back at Min again, glowing in the sunlight while Harry wiped his nose on his arm and adored her. I am not interested in Minerva Dobbs, he told himself. She’s too high maintenance. She’s never peaceful. And, oh yeah, she hates me. Then Min smiled at Harry, and Cal thought, Damn, she’s pretty, and kept staring.

  When Min got to the park, the kids were warming up, and she saw Harry out on the field, smaller than the other kids and grubby as usual, and felt a twinge for him. Then he saw her and smiled the Morrisey smile at her, and she thought, Oh, he’s going to be fine, and smiled back. She climbed up to the top of the bleachers and felt the wind ruffle her newly short curls and the fluttery sleeves of her organdy blouse as she sat down. She tried to watch Harry, but it was hard because Cal was there, and her eyes kept going to him. It’s purely physical, she told herself, but it wasn’t; she loved the way he was with the kids. He hated coaching, but he was doing it right. That was Cal.

  Oh, stop it, she thought. You don’t even know him.

  A slender brunette walked up behind Cal and put her hands over his eyes, and Min thought, Of course, and felt all her ludicrous happiness deflate. It didn’t matter that he was good with kids, since she didn’t want any. But it did matter that he was a beast with women, so—

  Someone sat down beside her and said, “Hello,” in a beautifully modulated voice, and Min turned and saw a pale-haired, paper-thin woman smiling faintly at her. She had a heart-shaped face and huge gray eyes, her platinum hair was razor cut close to her finely boned head, and she couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds. “I’m Bink,” she said.

  “Right,” Min said. “Hi. I’m Min.”

  “It’s so sweet of you to come for Harry,” Bink said. “I do appreciate it.”

  “Well, Harry’s a sweet kid,” Min said, looking back to find him, only to discover that he’d escaped from the field and was climbing the bleachers toward them, looking even grubbier as he came closer.

  “Most people don’t notice that,” Bink said, looking at him with love.

  “Hi, Min,” Harry said when he was one row down. He was beaming at her and she smiled back because anybody would.

  “Hey, Harry,” she said. “How’s it going?”

  “I have to play baseball,” Harry said. “Otherwise, pretty good.”

  “Well, live through this and we’ll celebrate with a doughnut afterward,” Min said.

  “Cool,” Harry said, bobbing his head.

  “You’re looking good down there on the field,” Min lied.

  “Thanks,” Harry said, still bobbing.

  “You can really throw that ball,” Min said, guessing.

  “Not really,” Harry said, but he didn’t seem depressed by that.

  He sniffed and kept nodding, and Bink said, “I think Uncle Cal wants you, Harry,” and he turned around and saw Cal and the brunette watching him.

  “Yeah,” he said and sighed.

  “Just keep thinking about that doughnut,” Min said.

  “Cool,” Harry said again, beaming at her.

  Min smiled back.

  “I gotta go,” Harry said, not going anywhere.

  “Good luck,” Min said.

  “Yeah,” Harry said, nodding for another minute or so. Then his smile faded and he trailed down the bleachers, avoiding his uncle’s gaze.

  “That was nice of you,” Bink said, and Min looked at her, surprised.

  “No, it wasn’t,” she said. “I like Harry.”

  The wind picked up before Bink could answer, and Min half expected her to blow away. I’m so glad she’s sitting beside me, she thought bitterly. Because I didn’t look hefty enough sitting up here by myself. Then she kicked herself. Bink might turn out to be nice, she was certainl
y polite, and Cal had warned her about hating her body. Okay, she thought. I’m one of those heavy cream wedding invitations, the kind you have to touch because it’s so beautiful, and she’s the expensive tissue paper that’s wrapped around me.

  “Are you all right?” Bink said.

  “Yes,” Min said. “Why?”

  “You were frowning,” Bink said.

  “I have to work on my metaphors,” Min said. “So Harry plays baseball.”

  “Unfortunately,” Bink said, and Min thought, She’s not one of the people who shanghaied Cal and Harry. I wonder—

  “Hi!” somebody said brightly from Min’s other side, and this time when she turned she saw the brunette who’d been flirting with Cal. She had a heart-shaped face and big gray eyes, and her dark hair was thick and silky.

  Kill me now, Min thought as the paragon sat down beside her. I’ve been bookended by the thin and rich.

  “How are you, Bink?” the woman said, and Bink smiled at her faintly—Bink evidently did everything faintly—and said, “Hello, Cynthie.”

  Cynthie. Min turned back to the brunette with renewed horror. Cal’s ex. Wearing, Min now noticed, a black halter top that wasn’t appropriate for a kids’ baseball game. Except that Cynthie was wearing it with no self-consciousness at all, probably because her breasts were those perfect perky kind men were always going on about. Bite me, Min thought and looked down on the field to see Cal staring up at the three of them with a very strange expression on his face. Probably realizing with horror that he’d been kissing a woman who was never going to wear a size eight. That hurt a lot more than it should have.

  “There’s Cal,” Bink said.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Min said. “Besides the fact that he hates this.”

  “He doesn’t hate this,” Cynthie said. “He agreed with me that this was great for Harry.”

  “Oh,” Min said. “This was your idea?”

  “Yes,” Cynthie said, smiling.

  Min turned to Bink. “Cynthie got Harry into baseball.”

  “Yes,” Bink said. “Cynthie discussed it with Harry’s grandmother and they agreed it would be good for him. Harry’s grandmother can be very forceful.”