by Marie Astor
She shrugged. “I run a bar. It takes more than a stupid comment to ruffle my feathers.”
“So you think what I said about finding your soul mate is stupid?” Philip asked, almost delighted.
“I didn’t mean that,” Mila retorted. “It’s just too idealistic,” she added, annoyed at herself. Why was it that Philip’s smile was making her so uneasy? She couldn’t deny that the man was sexy: tall, broad-shouldered with those muscles roving underneath his tailored shirt and those narrow hips, he was walking man candy. That was just it; Mila was on a diet, indefinitely. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Philip. I really do have to get back to work.” Mila prayed that more customers would pile in. Where the hell were they?
As if in an answer to her prayers, the doors swung open and a crowd of girls burst in. The one in the middle was wearing a white veil. “Let’s get this party started!” one of them shouted. It was the bachelorette party; they had arrived early.
“I really do have to get back to work,” Mila repeated, relieved. “Would you like a drink?” she offered, not wanting to be completely rude.
“Yes, I would, but not right now.” Philip slid a card across the bar. “My phone number is on there. I hope that we can continue our discussion on the topic of soul mates because I think I can prove you wrong.”
Mila shook her head. “A little cocky, aren’t we?”
Philip rocked back on his heels. “Just confident.”
Mila put the card in her back pocket. “I’ll give you a call, Philip.”
“Great.” He smiled at her, turning to leave. “You’re not going to leave me hanging by the phone, are you?” he turned around, locking his eyes with hers.
Mila smiled in spite of herself. “I’ll do my best.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.” She could hear the bachelorette party getting rowdy in the background.
“Great.” He grinned. “I think you’d better get back to work now.”
Mila skipped along the length of the bar and joined Amy who was frantically mixing drinks.
“I need two rum and cokes and two margaritas,” Amy rattled off. “Was he hot or was he hot?” she asked, as her hands were busy pouring liquor into a martini shaker.
“He was hot,” Mila admitted, lining the glasses on the bar.
“So you’re gonna call him?”
“How do you—”
“I’ve got really good ears,” Amy shot back.
“I can see that.”
“So you’re gonna call him?”
“Yes.” Mila smiled demurely, pouring the rum. It was funny how things happened when you least expected them.
“Hey, careful there!” Amy nudged her. “These aren’t supposed to be doubles.”
“Sorry!” Mila put the bottle back. “See what I mean? Men make you distracted.”
“Honey, I think a little bit of spilled rum is a small price to pay for finding a soul mate.”
Mila only smiled, thinking that the “when it rains it pours” saying worked both ways. For a while it had seemed that the downpour of misfortunes tumbling on her head would never stop, but now that the sun had come out, and its light just kept getting brighter and brighter. She had no idea if Philip and she were going to hit it off, but she decided that both of them deserved a chance to find out.
Chapter 21
Dennis Walker leaned back in his chair. A stack of assignments was piled up on his desk; ever since he and Janet had gotten back from their hiatus in Tahiti, they had been crazy busy, as Kirk & Associates became the agency of choice used by the FBI. Instead of grinding away on his next case, he stared at his computer screen with unseeing eyes. Work was the last thing on his mind.
He had a very important decision to make, and he had a little over twenty-four hours to make it. Deep down he knew that his mind was already made up, but he needed one final push, one last assurance to convince himself. What he needed was a friend’s advice. The problem was that he didn’t have too many friends in general, and he had even fewer friends who were qualified to give advice in the area of his predicament.
With a grunt, Dennis picked up the phone and dialed Laskin’s number. Desperate times required desperate measures, and he was pretty damn desperate.
“Peter Laskin.”
“Peter, it’s Dennis.”
“Dennis! Long time no speak! How are things?”
Dennis ignored Laskin’s question; he didn’t have time for idle pleasantries. “Can you meet me for lunch?”
“I’m always glad to see you, Dennis, but I’m swamped at work. Any way we could do it next week? Maybe Janet could come too. It’d be great to catch up.”
“Can’t you meet me today? I won’t take up much of your time. It’s really important, Peter.” Dennis paused. “It’s about a personal matter.”
“Can’t you tell me over the phone?”
“I’d rather tell you in person.”
“Can you meet me by my office? Remember the burger place where we used to go for lunch? It’s quiet there, so we’ll be able to talk.”
Dennis knew the place well, but he resisted the urge to make a comment. Laskin was a creature of habit. God forbid he would have lunch at a different venue; the change would upset his equilibrium for months to come. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
When Dennis reached Laskin’s office, Laskin was already pacing up and down the front of the building.
“Dennis! So great to see you! I finished up early, so I thought I’d get some fresh air.”
“Great to see you, Peter.” Dennis shook Laskin’s hand, relieved to hear that he wasn’t late. Even a five-minute lateness was a major transgression in Laskin’s book. Normally, Dennis never missed an opportunity to ridicule Laskin’s penchant for punctuality, but today he was in no position to mock him.
“Great to see you, Dennis. You look good.” Laskin shook his hand.
“You too, Peter.” There was a palpable change in Laskin’s appearance: the cut of his suit was a little sharper, his tie a tad smarter, and his shirt several degrees crisper. Those weren’t the only changes; his overall demeanor was weightier, like that of a man who was sure of his station in life.
“It’s this way.”
“I remember. I’ve only eaten lunch with you there a hundred times.”
Laskin slapped him on the back. “Ah, it’s good to see you, Dennis. I can’t tell you how much I miss those witticisms of yours.”
Ten minutes later they were seated in a booth of Laskin’s favorite burger place. The décor was tired to put it mildly, but the food was good, or at least it used to be from what Dennis remembered.
Laskin placed his order of a burger with cheddar cheese and fries, his usual fare, without looking at the menu. Dennis followed suit for the sake of time, not that he had any appetite. His stomach had been in knots since the morning.
“So how was Tahiti?” Laskin asked.
“It was wonderful, man. You should definitely check it out. It’d make a great honeymoon spot. By the way, how are the wedding preparations? I never did get my invitation.”
Laskin scratched his chin. “My bad, Dennis. I’m afraid the ship’s sailed. I’m already a married man.”
“When did that happen?”
“About the time when you and Janet were in Tahiti. Aileen and I got hitched in Vegas. In a true Las Vegas tradition we were married by an Elvis impersonator.”
“Vegas?” Dennis couldn’t keep surprise out of his voice. Laskin, who had every single detail of his life planned in advance opted to entrust one of the most important events in a man’s life to an Elvis impersonator.
“Yes. Aileen had to go to Vegas for a seminar, and I tagged along. Then, we were having dinner, and the idea occurred to me. Why wait? I knew I wanted her to be my wife, so why wait another six months?”
“Because that’s what people do! You have to be sure that that’s what you really want in life.”
“I already knew what I wanted. I
knew it the day I met her.”
“Come on, Peter! Spare me the love at first sight nonsense. Marriage is a matter of utmost importance … It can’t be decided on a whim. It has to be considered carefully, with much thought and gravity, as such an important step in a man’s life deserves.”
The waitress returned with their orders. The one thing the place had going for it was speedy service. Laskin took his time assembling his burger, carefully placing a slice of tomato, onion, and pickles—he always insisted on having sliced pickles in his burger. Then he grabbed the result of his labors with both hands and took a giant bite. “Mmm, this is good.” He closed his eyes, chewing for several moments. “Why aren’t you eating?” he asked after he had finished chewing.
Dennis barely resisted the urge to smack Laskin around. This was a matter of life and death and all Laskin could think about was shoving down chow. “I’m not very hungry.”
“Sorry,” Laskin gulped. “I’m starving. Aileen is on this new diet, and it’s all about healthy eating: no red meat, no carbs, yogurt for breakfast … This is my one guilty pleasure. Don’t tell her we came here,” he added sheepishly.
“Hah, you see what I mean!” Dennis pointed his finger at Laskin triumphantly. “Doesn’t this drive you nuts? Don’t you wish you had thought this whole marriage thing through a bit more carefully instead of jumping in like that? Because you see, once you’ve reached the point of no return, there’s no going back—”
Laskin placed his burger on his plate and gave Dennis a once over. “Is this about you and Janet?”
“What is? What are you talking about it?”
“It is, isn’t it?” Laskin shook his head. “Well, well, the elusive Dennis Walker is finally going to tie the knot, and he’s getting commitment jitters. How cliché.”
“Shut up, Peter. That’s not at all what I was getting at—” Dennis cut himself off. What was the use of lying when Laskin had him down to a T? After all, didn’t he seek Laskin out for his advice? So he might as well get to the point. “You’re right. It is about Janet and me. I’m sorry—”
“No need to apologize. This is a very emotional time in every man’s life.”
“You had seemed so cool when you proposed to Aileen.”
Laskin shook his head. “Me, cool? I hardly got a wink of sleep the night before I proposed. I was literally shaking.”
“So you were unsure about marrying her?” Dennis asked, dumbfounded. “Then why did you do it?”
Laskin shook his head. “Come on, Dennis, you can do better than that! You’re an investigator, for crying out loud. Our profession requires some degree of insight into the human nature.”
Dennis stared back at Laskin. “Are you saying that you were shaking because you wanted to marry her? Really badly?”
Laskin nodded. “Bingo. I couldn’t imagine the rest of my life without her, and the possibility of her saying no was devastating.”
“What about what you just said earlier about not being able to eat what you like—”
“What about it?” Laskin shrugged. “A steak dinner is hardly a sacrifice in exchange for what I have with Aileen.”
What do you have with Aileen? Dennis almost asked, but he didn’t. Deep down he already knew the answer: partnership, camaraderie, love, great sex (although the thought of Laskin and Aileen having sex was something he didn’t want to dwell on), having someone who’d be there for you no matter what. Dennis wanted to both give and receive all of these things; once, he’d been stupid enough to think that he could share them with Vanessa, and he’d been afraid to look for them ever since. Until he met Janet. Now all he had to do was take that last leap of faith.
“Just ask her, Dennis,” the tone of Laskin’s voice made it clear what he was referring to. “I’m sure she’ll say yes. If ever I saw a couple perfectly suited for each other, it’s you and Janet,” Laskin paused. “If you need help picking out a ring, I can put you in touch with a really good jeweler.”
Dennis shook his head. If there was one thing he didn’t need help with, it was picking out a ring. In the sock drawer of the chest of drawers in his apartment laid a black velvet jewelry box with the perfect engagement ring he’d bought for Janet. Now all he had to do was muster up the courage to get on one knee and ask her to be his wife; one simple question that would require one simple answer, after which both of their lives would change forever. Well, at least Dennis wanted to believe that it would be forever. It was a leap of faith he thought he’d never be able to take again. Suddenly it hit him; the prospect of Janet saying no was much more terrifying than taking the leap of faith. He wanted to marry her more than anything in the world.
Dennis pushed away his untouched plate. “Thanks for lunch, Peter. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some things to take care of.” He reached for his wallet.
Laskin waved him away. “Don’t worry about the check. Go get her!”
***
Back at work, Dennis closed the door of his office. If he was going to ask Janet to be his wife, he wanted to do it right. He grabbed his cell phone and pulled up his parents’ number—a number he only dialed on holidays and birthdays. He waited for the ring tone, his heart rate racing.
“Hello?”
“Mom? It’s me, Dennis.”
“Hi Dennis,” the warmth in his mother’s voice instantly soothed away the tension inside him. “You know, I’m not yet old enough so as to forget the sound of my son’s voice. You don’t need to introduce yourself.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Old habit.”
“Well, maybe if you called more often, the habit would go away.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again. This wasn’t going as he had intended it.
“No, I’m sorry. Here you are calling us, and I’m giving you the third degree. How are you, son?”
“I’m good, Mom. Real good. Work is going well,” Dennis halted. Work was the subject he avoided when speaking with his family. There had been a time when he’d been overly proud of his snazzy Wall Street job, flashing his high pay and glitzy lifestyle. Ever since the Vitaon disaster, his pride had been humbled.
“I’m so glad. You’re working for a private agency now? For your former boss from the Treasury, right?”
“That’s right. We’re getting lots of interesting cases. I can’t really talk about them, but it’s really exciting stuff,” Dennis paused. “I feel like I’m really making a difference.”
“Of course you are, Dennis. I want you to know that your dad and I are very proud of you.”
“You are?” The words escaped his lips before Dennis could stop himself. Even though he had made a name for himself in his new profession, he felt like none of it was ever enough to erase the shame of his past.
“Sure we are. We were always proud of you.”
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“The reason I’m calling is to tell you that I’m getting engaged. The girl I told you about, Janet, I’ve been seeing her for a while now. I think she’s the one. I think it’s the real thing.”
“Dennis! That’s so wonderful! I’m so happy for you! You father will be over the moon!”
“Is he there?” Dennis asked tentatively. Since the Vitaon disaster, he only spoke to his old man twice a year: on his birthday and on Christmas.
“He’s out. I’ll be sure to tell him when he comes back.” There was a pause on the other side of the receiver. “You know, Dennis, your father may not be the most vocal man, but he loves you very much.”
“I love him too, Mom. Will you tell him that?”
“I will, Dennis. I hope that you and Janet will come to visit us soon.”
“We will. I promise.”
Chapter 22
Janet woke up and pulled the covers up to her chin. The room was chilly, but then it was January and they were in a Vermont B&B, or to be more precise, The Vermont Inn, a five star lodge that Katie had selected as the venue for her wedding. Close friends of the couple had arrived Friday morning in orde
r to have time for the bachelorette and bachelor parties, which took place Friday night, with the wedding scheduled for Saturday. The logic behind picking Vermont as the destination for a bachelorette party was beyond Janet, but Katie had insisted, assuring her that she didn’t want anything crazy; just a night of drinks and storytelling with her girlfriends, which was what Janet had planned, renting out a nearby bar. It was Lisa who had surprised them all with her gift for the bride to be: four professional skiers whom she’d convinced to make some money on the side as male strippers. It had gotten rowdy, and the whole shindig lasted until the morning hours. It was around five a.m. when Janet had crept into bed, careful not to wake up Dennis who had already been fast asleep. At least he looked to be fast asleep.
Janet felt his side of the bed, but found it empty. It was just like Dennis to get up bright and early to show her up. She checked the clock on the nightstand: it was one p.m. Okay, so it wasn’t that early after all. She got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. She washed her face with cold water, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair, making herself look somewhat presentable.
She got out of the bathroom and was just about to put on her bathrobe and go looking for Dennis, but the bed looked awfully inviting, so she jumped back in, telling herself that it was only for a moment. Just then the bedroom door opened and Dennis walked inside.
“Good morning, sunshine.” He grinned at her, freshly showered and shaved; he looked very outdoorsy dressed in a thick wool sweater and a pair of jeans.
Janet lifted up on her elbow to greet him, “Good morning. Or maybe not so good.” She felt a stab of headache—a reminder of all the mojitos she’d drunk last night. This again had been Lisa’s idea, who insisted that the girls have fun before they became fat, pregnant, and boring like herself. Lisa’s tirade of course was spoken in jest; even at eight months pregnant, she looked terrific. If the hangover Janet felt this morning was any indication, there was a good possibility that Lisa was going to be the best looking female guest at the wedding tonight.