Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me

by Jennifer Crusie

  Then the minister said, “If any man can show just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak,” and Min took a step closer to her sister.

  Di turned to look at her, and Min met her eyes. “Do it.”

  After a moment, the minister nodded, and began the vows.

  Di reached out and clutched Min’s arm and whispered, “I do,” and Min sighed in relief.

  “Not yet, dear,” the minister whispered back.

  “No,” Min said to him. “That’s not what she means.” She nodded at Diana again. “Do it.”

  Di swallowed. “I object,” she said, but her voice was so faint that the minister leaned forward.

  “She objects,” Min said loudly.

  “To what?” Greg said.

  “To you, you traitorous son of a bitch,” Min said, and heard a gasp from the front pews. Loud voice, loud voice, she told herself. Not your loud voice. Then she looked at Greg again, and thought, Hell, yes, my loud voice.

  “I object,” Di said, her voice up to room temperature again. She turned so she was facing the pews. “I object to the groom sleeping with my bridesmaid last night. I object to the groom being a—” Her voice broke.

  “Cheating, scum-sucking pig,” Min said to Greg behind Di’s back, definitely in her loud voice.

  “Yes,” Di said, and walked down the steps, her bouquet quivering.

  “Also, your hair is stupid,” Min said to Greg, and started down the chapel steps after her sister. Greg caught her arm, and said, “Wait a minute—” and she swung back to let him have it, and then Cal was between them, shouldering Greg aside. Behind them Wet said to Worse, “You slept with Greg?,” and then somebody tapped Greg on the shoulder just as Wet lunged for Worse, and Greg turned around and met George’s fist as Wet yanked hard on Worse’s chignon, and Worse went ass over elbow into the front pew.

  Cal caught Greg by the shoulders just before he hit the ground, and they both looked up to see Nanette, coming at them, exquisite in pearl gray.

  “You’re a horrible man,” she said to Greg, and kicked him in the ribs with her pointed Manolo Blahniks.

  “Mother,” Min said.

  Nanette said, “Thirty-seven goddamn years,” kicking him on every word, until Min pulled her away. She staggered sideways and ended up facing George, who was trying to get past Cal to hit Greg again. “And you, too,” Nanette said and smacked him in the head with her purse.

  George put his hands up to ward her off and said, “What did I do?” and she stormed down the aisle, her head held high.

  Behind George’s back, Wet said, “You bastard,” to Greg and began to hit him in the face with her bouquet while Worse tried to crawl out of the pew.

  “I have to go to Di,” Min said to Cal. “Step on his head, will you?”

  “Go,” Cal said, and the last thing she saw as she turned for the door was Cal dropping Greg on the carpet to block George from hitting him again while Wet whaled on him with her orchids.

  Cal found Min at the reception, since Di had insisted on going to meet anybody who might show up. They were sitting in the mostly deserted ballroom with Liza, Bonnie, and an entirely too cheerful Wet, while Roger ferried champagne back and forth and Nanette consoled Di with the news that all men were cheating scum.

  “Mother,” Min said, and Cal took her hand and pulled her out into the hall with him.

  “My mother is insane,” Min said to him.

  “You just noticed?” Cal said, trying not to be distracted by her bulging neckline. “That looks like it hurts.”

  “It does,” Min said. “I’ve spent the entire day in bondage.” She peered back through the archway. “Look at Wet. She’s in there giggling. To think that I ever felt sorry for that wench. Did you need me for something?”

  “Yes,” Cal said, getting a little dizzy as her cleavage rose and fell. “Especially now that you brought up bondage. When can you take that off?”

  “I think I could lose it now, except the knots are so tight I can’t get them undone.” She ran her finger around the top of the corset, and Cal thought, Let me do that. “It’s killing me.”

  “Wait,” Cal said, and fished in his pocket for his pocketknife.

  He slipped the knife under the bow and sliced through the ribbon, and Min took a deep breath as the rest of the corset began to unlace itself from the pressure. “Oh, Lord, that feels good.”

  Cal watched the rise and fall of her loosened corset. “Looks good, too.” Even though he knew better, he drew his finger down the slope of her breast and felt the need for her that had been simmering for weeks flare up again.

  If he didn’t have her soon, he was going to lose his mind.

  She said, “Hey,” and caught his hand.

  “Not my fault,” he said, close to her mouth. “You were flaunting.”

  Her mouth melted under his, warm with familiarity, and her breath came faster as his hand curled around the firmness of her breast. “Oh,” she said, and he kissed his way down the smooth curve of her neck and felt her sigh under his hand. “Oh, that feels so good. But I have to—”

  “I know,” he said, holding on to her. “I shouldn’t have—” He kissed her again, wanting her so much that he couldn’t let go.

  “Yes, you should have,” Min said, against his mouth. “But Di—”

  “Right,” Cal said, remembering his mission. “That’s what I came to tell you. One of the ushers has Greg out in the car. Does Diana want to see him before he goes? He wants to apologize.”

  “Hell, no,” Min said, pulling away from him. “What can he possibly say?”

  “ ‘I’m the biggest cliché in bad wedding stories’?” Cal said, missing her warmth. “If it helps, the ushers are disgusted with him, too.”

  “I hate him,” Min said, looking back into the ballroom.

  “How is she?” Cal said, following her eyes to her sister, feeling guilty that he was having carnal thoughts while Di was in misery.

  “I think she’s almost relieved,” Min said, watching her. “Not happy, and she’s going to cry, but I think she knew she wanted the wedding and not Greg.”

  “Very sensible of her,” Cal said. “Who would want Greg?”

  Min stretched up and kissed him. “I’m staying with her tonight.”

  “I figured,” Cal said, hating it anyway. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. “I want you, Minerva.”

  “I’m free tomorrow night,” she said, smiling up at him. “Go get rid of that jerk and come back for champagne.”

  “Be right back,” Cal said, and kissed her again, surprised all over again that it was so easy, that everything with her had become so easy. That can’t be right, he thought, but he grinned anyway as he went to tell the ushers they could remove Greg.

  On his way back from the car, Cal ran into David.

  “I think the reception’s over, David,” Cal said, trying not to snarl. “You can go home now.”

  “I can’t,” David said, looking noble. “There’s something you should know.”

  Oh, hell, Cal thought and said, “What?”

  “That bet we made,” David said, “the one where you could get Min into bed in a month.”

  “What?” Cal looked at him, confused. “What bet? We didn’t make that bet. That was you, being drunk and reckless.”

  “Min knows,” David said, and Cal felt a chill. “She overheard it that night, that’s why she went out with you, to pay us both back and to get a date to this fiasco. They all knew, Liza, Bonnie, her sister, she told everybody. They’ve all been laughing at us.”

  The hallway suddenly seemed too narrow, not enough air, and it was much too cold for June.

  “I had to tell you because if she knows about it, the bet’s off. You never had a chance to win. She’s been playing you the whole time.”

  “No,” Cal said, his throat tight. “She wouldn’t.” The familiar slug of shame and self-loathing hit him—how stupid can you be?—even while common sense told him this
was David making trouble, that Min wouldn’t do that—

  “Face it,” David said, clapping him on the shoulder. “She made fools of us. Well, you more than me because I wasn’t trying to get her into bed, but I feel pretty stupid, too.”

  Cal looked at him with loathing. “At last, some self-knowledge.” She knew. She thinks I’m stupid.

  “Hey.” David held his hands up. “Don’t turn on me. I’m not the one who’s been making you look stupid for a month.”

  Cal flinched and then turned and walked away, back into the reception hall. It wasn’t true, Min wasn’t like that, she wouldn’t do that, except that suddenly a lot of things that had been inexplicable now made sense.

  He walked across the almost-deserted reception hall to where Min was trying to shield Diana from Nanette. “Could I talk to you for a minute?” he said.

  Min looked up from Diana and said, “Now isn’t—”

  “Now,” Cal said, and Min’s eyes widened and she nodded. “I’ll be right back, baby,” she said to Diana, and let him draw her out into the hall, casting anxious looks back to her sister as she went.

  “Is it Greg?” she said when they were in the hall where she could still keep an eye on Diana. “Did he—”

  “Why did you go to dinner with me that first night?” Cal said.

  “What?” Min said, so surprised she stopped looking at Di.

  “Tell me the truth.”

  Min straightened. “I went . . .” She looked away from him and shook her head. “I went because you made a bet with David you could get me into bed in a month, and I needed a date for this wedding. And then we went out and you were so slick I knew I couldn’t stand that for three weeks and I thanked you for dinner and went home. And why we have to talk about this now is beyond me.”

  “Why in hell would you keep going out with me if you thought I’d do that?” Cal said, a month’s worth of frustration morphing into anger. “For the sport? Was it funny?”

  “No,” Min said, sounding annoyed. “That’s why I kept turning you down. Could we discuss this la—”

  “So,” Cal said. “You turned me down to make a fool of me, and you and Bonnie and Liza sat around and laughed about it.”

  “No,” Min said, exasperated. “We thought you were slime. It wasn’t funny at all.”

  “Ah,” Cal said, nodding at her. “This is why Liza kept hitting me.”

  “Yes. But I don’t care.” She spat the last word from between her teeth. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “You care,” Cal said, grimly. “You’re mad as hell. That’s why you’ve been playing me, making me crazy for you, making me look like—”

  “Hey,” Min said, pointing her finger at him. “I have been completely honest with you.”

  “You never asked me about the bet,” Cal said.

  “Yeah, I did,” Min said, folding her arms. “And you ducked it every time I asked.”

  “No, you didn’t ask.” Cal folded his arms. “And you know how I know? Because I’d have told you I didn’t make that bet.”

  “I was standing right there,” Min said.

  “Then you didn’t listen very well,” Cal said. “I told him no.”

  “You said, ‘Piece of cake,’ ” Min snapped.

  “I have never said ‘Piece of cake’ in my life,” Cal said. “It’s a stupid thing to say.” He took a deep breath and thought, Fuck it. “How stupid do you think I am?” he said savagely, and Min froze. “How stupid does everybody think I am?”

  “Not stupid,” she said, watching him warily now. “What’s going on?”

  “They all thought I’d made that bet with a sleaze like David.” Cal shook his head at the breadth of her betrayal. “Because you told them I made that bet. And they watched you play me, and like a fool I fell for it.”

  “You did make it,” Min said, but she sounded uncertain. “Look, I didn’t think you were stupid, I thought you were . . . awful. But then you weren’t awful so I . . . Where is this coming from? You know how I feel about you. I love you. The bet doesn’t matter—”

  “It doesn’t matter?” Cal said. “How stupid are you?”

  “Hey,” Min said, her face darkening. “Okay, look, I know this is pushing all your buttons, but get a grip. I love you, you know I love you, but I don’t have time to baby-sit you right now—”

  “Baby-sit me?” Cal clenched his jaw to keep from screaming at her, because she’d betrayed him and because he still wanted her, desperately. Get out of this, he thought, and said, “Well, you’ll never have to baby-sit me again.”

  “What?” Then she started to nod, her face twisted in anger. “Oh. I get it. Of course. You’re running. You bastard. You got what you wanted, I said ‘I love you,’ the game is over, and now you’re out the door. I knew you’d do this. I knew you’d do this.”

  “This is not about me,” Cal said, not meeting her eyes.

  “Oh, please,” Min snapped. “This is all about you. One hundred percent of your relationships end with you running away. This is you grabbing any excuse to get—”

  “Hey,” Tony said, and they both turned to see him standing in the doorway, looking madder than Cal had ever seen him. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, but whatever it is, it’s not as important as what that kid in there is going through. You’ve got the rest of your lives to fight, she needs you now.”

  “Tell Min I didn’t make that damn bet with David to have sex with her,” Cal said.

  Tony looked at Min, exasperated. “He didn’t make that bet.”

  “I heard him make the bet,” Min said. “David said that he’d have to get the gray-checked suit into bed in a month and he said, Piece of . . . cake.’ ” She looked from Tony to Cal. “Oh.”

  “I said ‘Piece of cake,’ ” Tony said. “I was wrong. I don’t care. Fight about it later. Right now, get your ass back in there and help your sister. Your mother took her champagne away because it has too many calories, and that damn bridesmaid in the green dress keeps laughing.”

  “You’re right,” Min said, stepping toward the door. “But we won’t be fighting about it later because Calvin has decided it’s time to go.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Tony said, looking at them both with contempt. “You two are the biggest babies I’ve ever seen.”

  “What?” Min said, stopping.

  “Here’s the short version,” Tony said to Min. “You’re a man-hating bitch and he’s a woman-fearing coward.” He looked at Cal. “Get over that, will you?”

  “The hell with both of you,” Min said and went back to her sister, as Cal turned on Tony.

  “They’re all like that,” Nanette was saying to Di when Min got back to them, seething. “You can’t trust any of them.” She gestured with the champagne glass she was holding. “They tell you they love you and then—”

  Min grabbed the glass out of her hand. “Here,” she said, handing it to Di. “We’re drinking about twelve bottles of this tonight, so get started.”

  “Do you know how many calories—” Nanette began.

  “Listen, you,” Min said to her. “You’re going home and throwing out every damn fashion magazine in the house. You’re going cold turkey, it’s the only thing that’s going to save you.”

  Nanette straightened. “Just because you won’t lose the weight, doesn’t mean Diana has to be fat.”

  “I’m not fat, Mother,” Min said. “But while we’re on the subject, I don’t see where not eating for fifty-five years has made you particularly happy. Go home and eat something, for Christ’s sake.” She looked around. “Where are those goddamn cake boxes?”

  “I’ll get them,” Roger said, and went fast.

  “I think that’s very sensible,” Wet said, beaming at Min.

  “And you,” Min said. “Go someplace else and gloat. In fact, go find Greg. You deserve each other. He’s a selfish bastard and you love to be beat.”

  “That’s not fair,” Wet said, back to her familiar whine.

  “Hit t
he road, Wet,” Liza said. “You’ve been laughing ever since you stopped hitting Worse. If you’re not going to be a comfort, have the decency to be an empty space.”

  “Well, at least I’m not Tart,” Wet said and stalked off.

  “Did she just call me a tart?” Liza said to Bonnie.

  Min sat down next to Diana in Wet’s vacated chair.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” she said, taking her hand. “We’re going to get those cake boxes and a case of the champagne, and we’re going back to my place.”

  “Okay,” Diana said, her voice breaking again.

  “And we’re going to eat cake and get drunk,” Min said.

  “Oh, Min,” Nanette said. “It’ll take you weeks to work off those calories.”

  Min looked at her mother for a moment and thought, This is what Diana lives with every damn day. “And then,” she said to Diana, “since you have the week off for your honeymoon, I’m going to take the week off, too, and we’re going to go house-hunting.”

  Diana stopped crying. “House-hunting?”

  “Yes,” Min said. “I’m going to buy a great two bedroom Arts and Crafts bungalow. And you’re going to move in with me.”

  “I am?” Diana said, sitting up a little.

  “Yes,” Min said. “You’ve lived with the calorie police for too long.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Nanette said. “She is not going to move.”

  “But there are some rules,” Min said, and Diana swallowed and nodded. “There will always be butter in the refrigerator. There will be no sound tracks from Julia Roberts movies. And from now on,” she said, looking toward the door where Cal was glaring at Tony, “we only date ugly men.”

  Diana was nodding at Min. “And I’ll get out of the way on Thursday nights.”

  “Why?” Min said, mystified.

  “So you guys can have your If Dinner,” she said, and Min realized that the worst thing that had happened to Di wasn’t that she’d lost Greg, it was that she’d lost her best friends. She thought again of what it would be like if Bonnie and Liza had betrayed her, and she lost her breath at how far beyond horrible that would be.

  As bad as losing Cal.

  “You’ll come, too,” Bonnie said, putting her arm around Di.