Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me

by Jennifer Crusie

  “What?” Bonnie said, while Min gaped at Liza, and Diana watched them all, fascinated.

  Liza got up from the table, picked up Min’s phone, and brought it over to her. “Call him. Tell him you were wrong, he was right, and you’ll do anything to make it up to him.”

  Min swallowed. “You want me to grovel?”

  “Yes,” Liza said. “I’m not going to watch you lose him because of your dumb pride. Call and offer him anything he wants if he’ll take you back.”

  Min looked at Bonnie, who nodded.

  Min looked at the phone. If she called Cal, she’d at least get to hear his voice. How pathetic was that? “Pathetic,” she said out loud.

  “Only if you let this go,” Liza said. “For once in your life, do the irrational, reckless thing. Call him.”

  Min sat there, frozen in fear. Then she took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

  Cal was rehearsing his “How about a late dinner tomorrow?” speech when the phone rang, but when he picked it up and heard Min’s tentative “Hi?” he forgot it all.

  “Hi,” he said and sat down hard on the couch.

  “Don’t say anything,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. “Let me get this out. I was wrong not to tell you I knew about the bet. I was wrong not to trust you. Everything you said at the wedding was right. It’s my fault. I want you back. I want us back. I love you and I need you—”

  Relief made Cal dizzy.

  “And I want to see you now,” she went on, and Cal thought, Christ, yes, and then the other shoe dropped. “Now?” he said and looked at the clock. Twenty-six hours before the bet was up. Just tell her yes, he thought, she doesn’t care about the bet anymore, she said so, and then he remembered how she’d sounded when she’d said it at the wedding.

  “It’s been driving me crazy saying no to you all these weeks,” Min was babbling, “but if you’re not ready for that, that’s okay, I just want to see you. I haven’t seen you for two days, and I miss you so much. Can I come over right now? Just to talk? Or, you know, we could do other things. I can think of several. If you want more than talk. More would be good with me. Or not. Whatever.”

  More would be great with me, Cal thought and shook his head to clear it.

  “I’m on my knees here,” Min said, her voice straining to be chipper. “And not in a good way. Can I come over?”

  “No,” Cal said. “I’ll come to you. Later.” He swallowed. “Tomorrow. Nine-thirty. Tomorrow night, nine-thirty.”

  “Not now?” Min said, her voice cracking.

  “No,” Cal said. “No. Nine-thirty. Tomorrow. I’ll bring dinner.”

  “I can cook now,” Min said. “I can make dinner. I can make it now.”

  “I’ll bring dinner tomorrow,” Cal said, thinking, Christ, I’ve been stupid.

  “Fine, whatever.” Min waited for a moment and then added, “I’m kind of hungry now, though.”

  “Tomorrow, nine-thirty, your place,” Cal said, gritting his teeth.

  “Okay,” Min said. “All right. Tomorrow night it is.” He was about to say good-bye when she said, “Are you seeing Cynthie?”

  “Christ, no,” Cal said, casting a guilty look at the door.

  “Because you left with her. And David said you were. Or I wouldn’t have asked. I mean, it’s none of my business.”

  “It’s your business,” Cal said. “And David is an idiot. Stop talking to him.”

  “I’m trying,” Min said.

  Cal felt all his tension morph into a much more convenient anger. “What does that mean, you’re trying?”

  “He calls. For some reason, this whole mess has convinced him that he and I should get married.”

  “He’s wrong,” Cal snapped.

  “I know that,” Min said, her voice not placating anymore.

  “You’ve got caller ID. Stop picking up the phone.”

  “Look, I’m not completely stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid at all,” Cal said, “your past month’s performance notwithstanding.” He winced. Stupid. Stupid.

  “Hey, you made the bet.”

  “I did not—”

  “The second one. The take-me-to-dinner one. I screwed up but I’m not going to pay for it for the rest of my life. You’re culpable here, too. You made that dinner bet.”

  There you go, Cal thought. Shanna was right, damn it.

  “Not that I’m assuming you’re going to be around for the rest of my life,” Min said, tentative again.

  “Tomorrow night,” Cal said and hung up, before either one of them said something even dumber, pretty sure he’d done the right thing. Christ, I’m in a Doris Day movie, he thought, and went to tell Shanna that he’d done what she said.

  “I love you,” Min said forlornly to the dial tone.

  “What happened?” Liza said. “What was all that stuff about Cynthie and David? I told you to grovel, not fight.”

  Min put the phone down and picked up Elvis for comfort. “He doesn’t want to see me until tomorrow.”

  “That’s strange,” Liza said. “If I’d promised Tony sex like that, he’d have been here before I hung up the phone.”

  “I didn’t actually promise him sex,” Min said.

  “Oh, please,” Liza and Bonnie said together, and even Diana nodded and said, “Yes, you did.”

  “Could I keep some shred of dignity here?” Min said. “He just said no to sex, the bastard.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Bonnie said, patting her hand. “He just said, not until tomorrow.” She frowned. “I don’t get him.”

  “Tell us what he said,” Liza said.

  “He said he’d come over here tomorrow at nine-thirty, and he’d bring dinner. Like I want to eat.” Min sniffed. “I hate this. This is dumb.”

  “What’s so special about nine-thirty tomorrow night?” Liza said. “What’s tomorrow? It’s just Wednesday.”

  “It’s Roger’s and my anniversary,” Bonnie said. “He’s ordering champagne, and then he’s going to pick me up at the bar the way he did four weeks ago, and then he’s going to propose.”

  “Cute,” Min said.

  “That’s it,” Liza said, straightening. “Tomorrow night it’s four weeks since David made the bet.”

  “But Cal didn’t take the bet,” Min snapped. “I’m tired of this conversation. He didn’t—”

  “But everybody knows about it,” Liza said. “So if you give in before the time’s up, he wins. And he loves to win. He always wins. He lives to win.”

  “Not seeing your point,” Min said.

  “He’s throwing the bet,” Liza said.

  “Why?” Min stood up and Elvis leaped for the floor. “Why in the name of God—”

  “It’s sort of gallant,” Bonnie said.

  “If you ask me, it’s a control thing, too,” Liza said, disdain in her voice. “He gets to call the shots. What happened at nine-thirty?”

  Min shrugged, confused. “We got to the restaurant a little before ten, so we were probably leaving the bar about then.”

  Liza nodded. “He’s giving himself some leeway.” She frowned. “Although more than he needs if he’s bringing dinner. Then there’ll be foreplay. It’s going to take some time to get you—”

  “He can have me when he walks in the door,” Min said.

  Diana picked up her bread again. “I’ll go to the movies tomorrow night. You’re going to need this place to yourself, and I’m not going back home. Mom’s still mad I moved in here. She’s convinced I’m eating carbs.” She bit into the bread, and Min laughed in spite of herself and then began to consider the situation.

  So what if Cal lost the bet? Ten bucks. He could afford it. “No,” she said. “I’m not going to be the bet he lost, that’s not how I want us to start. He’s going to win that bet tomorrow night, and he’s going to be very happy doing it.”

  “Why tomorrow?” Liza said.

  “Because I’m going to need a really hot nightgown,” Min said. “And a lot more courage than
I have right now. And a plan.”

  “Explain,” Liza said, and Min leaned in and they began to talk.

  “What the hell is going on?” David said the next evening when he called Cynthie. “I thought you said that fight at the wedding would end it.”

  “We lost,” Cynthie said, her voice sounding tired. “He loves her so much, he’s forgiven her.”

  “I just talked to Min,” David said, reliving the experience in vivid detail. “She told me she’s going to make sure he wins, so I should get my checkbook out. She sounded mad at me.”

  “David, it’s done,” Cynthie said. “The only thing we can do is wait and hope infatuation wears itself out and they come to their senses.”

  “Six months to three years? I’m not waiting on Calvin Morrisey.” David thought of Cal with loathing. He had Min so snowed she believed he’d actually throw that bet. He’d probably set it up so she’d insist on his winning. He’d probably . . . David sat back. “Wait a minute. What if Min found out he was playing her? What if he tricked her into sleeping with him so he could win the bet?”

  “He’s not,” Cynthie said, tiredly. “It’s done, David.”

  “No, it’s not,” David said. “Not if the bet’s for midnight. What if her family and friends found out he made that bet?”

  “It’s done, David,” Cynthie said.

  “I’m not done,” David said. “I’m going to win.”

  At eight, Cal had a bottle of wine and a box of Krispy Kremes ready to take to Min’s apartment, and an hour and a half of rabid sexual frustration to kill when the phone rang.

  “Cal,” Diana said when he answered. “You have to get over here. Min’s in trouble.”

  “What—” Cal said, and then all he heard was a dial tone. “Okay,” he said, and headed over to Min’s apartment, deeply suspicious.

  When he knocked on the door, Diana opened it. “Thank God you’re here,” she said, and hauled him inside. Then she slipped out the door and left, slamming it behind her.

  “What is this?” Cal turned around and saw Min, dressed in a short black trench coat, her back against the door, that glint in her eyes. “Oh, funny,” he said, trying to sound mad. “Did you ever hear the story about the actuary who cried ‘Wolf’?”

  “Yes,” Min said. “The wolf ate her.” She grinned at him, and his pulse kicked up. “I have news for you, Charm Boy. You are not going to throw this bet.”

  “Oh, yes, I am,” Cal said, retreating around her couch while Elvis watched with contempt. “If we sleep together now, there will come a day when we’re arguing about the electric bill, and you’ll say, ‘You only dated me for the bet.’ I’m not paying for this for the rest of my life when all I have to do is wait an hour and a half.” He looked at the clock on the mantel. “Eighty minutes.”

  “The rest of your life, huh?” Min said.

  “Yes, Minerva, the rest of my life. You think I’d go through the hell this month has been just for the sex?”

  Min blinked. “Well, yes.”

  Cal thought about it. “Okay, you have a point.”

  “Did I mention I’m not wearing underwear?” Min slid around the couch and he backed around to the other side.

  “You do this to torture me, don’t you?” Cal said.

  “No, I’m doing it to get you into bed,” Min said. “The torture is just a perk.”

  “Min,” Cal said.

  “No,” Min said. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as the bet you lost. Plus I’m tired of hearing about how I’m not a risk-taker. So I’m taking a risk on you.” She pulled a ten-dollar bill out of her trench coat pocket. “I’ve got ten bucks says I’m going to have you naked and inside me before nine-thirty.”

  Cal went dizzy for a moment and when he’d shaken his head to clear it, she’d slapped the ten on the table by the couch.

  “There it is, sport,” Min said. “You going to be a wimp, or are you going to play?”

  She was smiling at him, heat and love in her eyes, and he started to laugh. “Min, it’s eighty minutes, not a month. You really think I can’t hold out that long?”

  “Yep,” Min said, her hands on her hips.

  He got out his wallet, took out a ten, walked over to the table, and slapped it on top of her ten. “You’re on,” he said, keeping the table between them. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Minnie.”

  She unbuckled her trench coat, dropped the belt onto the couch, and took off the coat. She was wearing a strapless black lace nightgown, and as far as Cal could see, there was nothing holding it up. “I know it would have been better if I’d been naked,” she said, rocking on her heels so that everything bounced. “I’m just not that confident yet.”

  “Actually,” Cal said, staring at her, “now I’m going to think about ripping that off you for the next eighty minutes, so this may be the way to go.” He looked at the top of the nightgown where the lace cut into her flesh. “It doesn’t look that hard to get off.”

  Min put her finger inside the top of the lace and snapped it. “Elastic. One good tug and—”

  “Not for eighty minutes.” He looked at the clock. “Seventy-seven minutes. But I want to make it clear that when the time’s up, you’re mine.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Min said, nodding.

  “Well, then,” Cal said. “Read any good books lately?”

  “No,” Min said, beginning to move around the table. “I can’t read because all I can think about is you.”

  Cal moved away from her, toward the other end of the couch. “That must be boring.”

  “No, you’re always doing the most amazing things to me,” Min said, moving closer.

  Cal moved around to the front of the couch. “You know, I’m not that good in bed.”

  Min reversed direction and surprised him, grabbing his shirt. “That’s all right. I’m fantastic.”

  She pushed him onto the couch and straddled him, her soft weight pinning him down, and Cal thought, I should do something about this, but even as he thought it, his hands were on her, feeling her heat through the scratch of the lace. “I’ve been told my mouth is a miracle,” she whispered, leaning into him, and he closed his eyes as her breasts pushed softly against his chest.

  She kissed him, and her mouth was hot and sweet, and he tightened his hands on her and pulled her close. “Christ, I’ve missed you,” he said against her mouth.

  “I missed you, too,” she said, not playing anymore. “I don’t ever want to be without you again.”

  “You never will,” Cal said. “I’m not walking away from you again. Ever.”

  “Thank you.” Min sat back and took a deep breath and Cal watched, heat rising. “Listen, there’s something I have to tell you.”

  His hands cupped her rear end and pulled her tighter. She really wasn’t wearing underwear. “Talk slow.” He bent his head to kiss her neck and bit it softly instead.

  Min shivered. “Remember, I said, ‘Don’t break my heart’? Well, I changed my mind. You can break it.”

  “Hey,” Cal said, his hands tightening on her. “I’m not—”

  “It doesn’t matter, I’ll love you anyway,” Min said, “I loved you when I thought you’d made that bet, I loved you when I thought you were playing me, I loved you while I was screaming at you in the street, I loved you when you left the wedding with Cynthie, you rat bastard—”

  “I took her home and left,” Cal said, alarmed. “I swear to God, I—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Min said. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, it doesn’t matter what you do or say. I’m going to love you till the end of time.”

  Cal looked at her, stunned.

  “I know,” Min said. “It’s really un-PC. I just thought you should know that you can’t screw this up.”

  “I can’t?” Cal said, wanting to believe her.

  “No,” Min said. “Which doesn’t mean I’m not going to yell if you make me mad again. I will shout and slam doors. I just won’t be on the other side of the door wh
en I slam it. You’ve got me for life.”

  He lost his breath and put his forehead against her shoulder. “God, I love you.”

  Min sighed. “That’s good because there’s something else I have to tell you.”

  Cal nodded, still dazed.

  Min swallowed. “The thing is, I’m going to spread. Hips, thighs—”

  “Not till nine-thirty,” Cal said, trying not to picture her.

  “—waist,” Min said, and then stopped. “What? Nine-thirty? Not till my forties, probably, I think I can fight it off that long, but then—”

  “What?” Cal said.

  “I’m going to get fat,” Min said, and he blinked. “Er. I’m going to get fatter.” She frowned at him. “What did you think I meant?”

  “For future reference,” he said, starting to laugh. “If you’re sitting half naked on my lap and you tell me you’re going to spread—”

  “No,” Min said and tried to push him away, and he toppled her so she landed, lush and hot beneath him. “I would never say that,” she said, looking up at him as her arms slid around his neck. “That would be crude.”

  “I liked it,” Cal said and kissed her.

  “What I’m trying to tell you,” Min said when she came up for air, “is that I’m going to grow up to be one of those chubby old ladies. It’s in my genes. Like self-rising flour. I’m going to pouf.”

  “That’s going to work out well for me,” Cal said. “Because I’m going to grow up to be one of those horny old men who chases chubby old ladies around the couch.”

  “I’m serious” Min said, but she was smiling, her soft lips open for him.

  “So am I,” Cal said. “You think I care what you weigh? Hell, woman, you’ve called me a beast, a wolf, the devil, and a vile seducer. Plus your best friend has beaten me up three times—”

  “You hit me in the eye,” Min said.

  “—and you yelled at me in public, and I’m still here. If you think you getting softer is going to get rid of me—”

  “Men are visual,” Min said.

  “Yeah.” Cal slid his finger under the elastic edge of her nightgown. “That’s why I like this thing you’re not wearing. But I still want a chance to rip your sweats off you, too.” He stopped smiling, trying to give her what she’d given him. “It’s just you, Minnie. That’s all I want. I just want to spend the rest of my life with you.”