"I think he's just happy to have an extra pair of hands to help him."
"Don't sell yourself short. You do that all too frequently. You're good at baking, and the man is smart enough to know it. You should be proud of yourself. I know I am."
Uncomfortable with her sister's effusive praise, Lisa changed the subject. "How goes the baby making?"
"Well, the sex has been out of this world, but so far the stick hasn't turned color."
"Don't look so bummed. It hasn't been that long."
"How about you? Did you get your period?"
The fact that everyone in her family kept tabs on her menstrual cycle was a bit unnerving, not to mention, weird. "Nope. But I refuse to worry about it. The chances of my being pregnant are slim to none." Lisa wished she felt as confident as she sounded. But after so many weeks, she was starting to grow concerned. It would be just her luck to find out she was pregnant when things were starting to go so well with her career—and her marriage was on the skids.
Francie arched an eyebrow. "Mom doesn't think so. It's all she talks about these days."
"That's just Mom. But maybe she won't be so disappointed if you come up fat."
"A few more crumb cakes and that won't be a problem."
Sol came out and handed Francie the bakery box he was holding. Thanking him, she said, "I can feel the calories multiplying as I stand here. My feet are getting fatter."
The older man grinned. "Nothing I bake has any calories. I don't allow them. But everything your sister makes is loaded with them." Sol winked at the girls.
"I wish that were true." Francie paid for her purchase and turned to leave. Searching her purse for her car keys, she wasn't paying attention to where she was walking and ran smack-dab into the next customer who entered the store.
It was Alex.
"Oh! Sorry," she said, turning quickly to give her sister a commiserating smile and mouthed, "Good luck," before hurrying out the door.
Lisa groaned at the sight of her sexy husband, wondering how much longer she could hold out. Alex was slowly wearing down her resistance.
This past week she had received from him four-dozen pink roses, two autumn arrangements and a bouquet of carnations. Leo was complaining that the apartment smelled like a funeral home.
Alex had also left frequent messages on her voice mail and even hired a mariachi band to serenade her two nights ago. Unfortunately, Leo had gotten into the spirit of things and had joined the band out in the hallway, wearing only his boxer shorts.
Elderly Mrs. Conforti had called the police.
"Hi!" Alex said. "You're looking especially pretty today."
Garbed in white pants and an apron, Lisa thought she looked like a milkman, but was pleased by the compliment, nonetheless. "Thanks. What brings you in today? I really don't have time for another confrontation, Alex, and I don't think it's appropriate for you to keep coming to where I work. I'm trying to earn a living."
"I came by to see if you'd go out to dinner with me tonight, maybe swing by Club Zero for old time's sake. I want to be friends."
Alex was still garbed in his biker attire, and Lisa decided it was sweet that he'd gone to so much trouble to impress her, though she liked the older version of her husband much better than the new one.
Macho men were a dime a dozen; there was only one Alex.
Lisa knew she was weakening. Alex was slowly but surely wearing down her resolve. And, of course, there was the awful truth that she loved him, in spite of everything. That didn't mean she was going to be stupid and not keep her guard up. Fool me once, and all that. But, she figured, dinner couldn't hurt.
"I guess I could, as long as you don't expect too much to come of it. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea."
Though Lisa knew without a doubt that a strong spark still existed between them, she wanted to find out if Alex would truly accept her for what she was and not for what his family wanted her to be.
And she intended to do that tonight, one way or another.
10
"Are you out of your mind, Alex? Asking your soon-to-be ex-wife out on a date is not a very smart idea. I've tried to explain the facts of life to you concerning divorce, but you're not listening."
Bill Connors was wearing his lawyer's face, and though Alex appreciated his advice, knowing his heart was in the right place, he didn't appreciate Bill always talking about divorce. That word—that entire concept—was not in Alex's vocabulary.
"I told you, Bill, I have no intention of divorcing Lisa. And I'm doing everything humanly possible to try and convince her not to divorce me." Like praying. He wasn't a very religious man, but he prayed a lot these days.
Running agitated fingers through his sandy hair as he paced the living room of his apartment, Bill shook his head then ground to a halt in front of his friend. "Listen, Alex, I appreciate your feelings on this matter. But as a divorce attorney, I must inform you that you are weakening whatever case you might have against Lisa. The woman is not likely to change her mind, no matter how many dates she accepts. And you're going to be left holding the bag—an empty one, I might add."
"I canceled my appointment with Riggs Bank because you said there was something important you had to discuss with me this afternoon, Bill. I'm assuming it isn't my situation with Lisa, though I appreciate your concern."
Bill squeezed Alex's shoulder. "Afraid I have some rather bad news for you, buddy. Annie's decided that she wants to move in with me. I'm afraid you're going to have to make other living arrangements."
Alex hadn't been sure what sort of news to expect from his new roommate, but being evicted hadn't been at the top of the list. Of course, he knew it had to happen some day. Bill had been very generous about letting him bunk in with him these past few weeks, and Alex, no doubt, had overstayed his welcome. "I totally understand. Three's a crowd, always has been. I'm glad things are working out between you and Annie. She seems like a very nice girl."
A skeptical expression crossing his face, Bill shrugged. "I'm willing to give it a try, but I'm not going to hold my breath. Living together usually sounds the death knell for a relationship. Marriage is even worse."
"You know that law they have that puts you in prison if you commit three felonies—three strikes and you're out, so to speak. Works the same for marriage, in my opinion."
"It doesn't have to be that way."
Bill arched an eyebrow and leveled a knowing look at Alex, who insisted, "Well, it doesn't."
"Will you be able to find a place to live on such short notice? I'm sorry as hell about this, Alex. Obviously, it wasn't my idea. Women are so damn persnickety about things."
"Not a problem. I'll find a hotel and be out tonight."
"Tomorrow's soon enough. Annie's working and her flight back to the States won't be until tomorrow afternoon. She's in Paris, at the moment."
"Okay. That'll give me time to make arrangements. I hope you know how grateful I am for everything you've done, Bill. I never expected to be here this long. Guess I thought Lisa would fall right into my arms, once she saw me. Dumb, huh?"
His friend shook his head. "I sure as hell hope this works out for you, buddy, because I've never seen a man so in love with a woman before. I hope she's worth it. You deserve someone wonderful." In an uncharacteristic gesture, Bill grabbed Alex and hugged him.
"I'm going to miss you. Having you here has been like having a brother around. Monday night football won't be the same without you."
"Yeah, me, too."
They broke apart, red faced at having shared their feelings.
"If things don't work out with Lisa, I hope you'll call me. I won't charge you for any legal advice."
"I appreciate that. But after tonight, I'm hoping I won't need it."
"You're that certain she'll come back to you?"
"I'm not certain about anything. Lisa's as stubborn and willful as they come. But I've found a tenacity I didn't know I had, and I'm not about to give up. The stakes are too high."
At the knock on the door, Lisa sucked in her breath, smoothed down the red spandex dress that clung to her body like a second skin, adjusted her plunging neckline to reveal even more cleavage than she'd originally planned, and slid into her stiletto heels—shoes so torturous that she almost changed her mind about wearing them. But if she was going to put Alex through his paces tonight, Lisa needed to put her best foot forward, so to speak.
Opening the door, she greeted her husband with a smile and waited for him to react. His response surprised her, but didn't disappoint.
"Wow! You look incredible," he said. She thought she saw an agitated movement at the side of his cheek, but she couldn't be sure. To his credit, Alex refrained from saying anything judgmental about her appearance. In fact, his comments were quite the opposite.
"Love that dress. Is it new?"
Lisa fluffed her hair, licked her lips and smiled her most enticing smile, wondering what had prompted Alex's new outlook on provocative dressing. Then, noting the prominent bulge in his crotch that suddenly surfaced, she figured all men were universally horny creatures, no matter how much they protested.
"Thank you! It's so hard to remain on the cutting edge of fashion these days. Leo helped me pick out this dress. He has such exquisite taste, don't you think?"
Actually, what Leo had said when he insisted she wear the outrageous dress was that, if Alex didn't salivate and fall to his knees upon seeing her, he wasn't any kind of a man.
Well, Alex hadn't fallen yet, but he was getting close. She could feel it.
Shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, he said, "Remind me to thank Leo the next time I see him."
Alex's smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and Lisa almost laughed at the supreme effort he made to bite his tongue. "I will. Shall we go?"
Dinner, though delicious, was a torturous affair for Alex, but he was determined not to let his jealous anger get the better of him tonight.
The waiters at Chez Francois had spent most of the evening ogling his wife's cleavage shamelessly, hovering over their table, from aperitif to dessert, as if he were the president of the United States and Lisa, the first lady.
No diner in the annals of food service had ever been treated so solicitously.
"You'd think those waiters had never seen a beautiful woman before," he commented over their crème brûlée. "Mmm. This is delicious. How's yours?" He licked the creamy mixture off the spoon with his tongue, happy to see Lisa's eyes following the gesture.
"Men seem to have a problem with breasts," she stated, in her usual forthright manner, shaking her head in disbelief. "I'm not sure why that's so, but I find it totally ridiculous."
"I hope you're not referring to me, because I don't have any problem. I like breasts very much," Alex replied with a rakish grin. "I'd be happy to demonstrate."
Lisa ignored the offer. "I mean, you'd think every woman in the world didn't have breasts, for heaven's sake! Men, too, for that matter. Yours just aren't as developed. Breasts are for feeding and nurturing children. I don't understand what the big deal is."
Big being the operative word, Alex thought, admiring the luscious mounds that overflowed the low neckline of his wife's dress and remembering how they felt in his hands and beneath his lips.
He shifted in his seat. "So I take it that you noticed the waiters' attention?"
"I noticed. I almost said something to the smarmy one with the mustache, but I decided not to give him the satisfaction. The French can be so pompous and arrogant. Good thing they know how to cook. It's their only saving grace."
"When breasts look like yours, love, a man is going to pay attention. It would be hard not to."
"That's very sweet. But I didn't think you liked cleavage. You used to tell me it wasn't seemly for a married woman to expose herself so…so…" She shrugged. "I can't remember exactly how you put it."
But Alex did remember the prudish remark, and his face reddened. "I was wrong to have said that. You should show off your beauty. I'm proud of the way you look. I guess I just wanted to keep you all to myself."
"Just because a woman wears a low-cut dress and other men look at her, doesn't mean they get to touch the merchandise, Alex. It's just for show, and to make us feel like women."
"Well, there's no doubt you're all that."
A soft blush touched Lisa's cheeks. "Thank you again. I seem to be thanking you a lot this evening."
"Tell me something," he began, and her eyebrows rose in anticipation. "Why did you agree to go out with me tonight when you've done your best to avoid me these past few weeks?"
Sipping her espresso, Lisa pondered the question, and then replied, "Marriage might not be for us, Alex, but we can still be friends. It took me a while to come to that conclusion. We get along great when we're not married."
It wasn't the answer Alex wanted to hear, and he attempted to mask his hurt by quickly changing the subject. "My mother called the other night. She was asking about you. Mother actually sounded concerned, if you can believe that." In fact, his mother had been calling quite a bit lately, being solicitous, asking about Lisa, and he had no idea why.
Lisa stiffened in her seat, clearly annoyed at the mention of his mother. "I can't. She called me, too, but fortunately she got my voice mail."
"With mothers, there's no telling. They have their own reasons for doing things." But Miriam had a definite purpose, Alex was positive of that. He just wasn't sure what it was. His mother wasn't impulsive and didn't do things by the seat of her pants. Rather, she was clever, calculating and concise.
"That's true. My mom is a perfect example of that."
Alex smiled. "Can you imagine what it would be like if those two got together? The planet as we know it would be altered forever."
Lisa clutched her stomach. "The thought makes me extremely nauseous."
"Really? I hope it's not the food. I can take you home, if you're not feeling well."
"I'm feeling fine—great, in fact," she said, her eyebrows drawing together in puzzlement. "I'm just full."
"Are you ready to go?" she asked. "I want to get to the club before all the good tables are taken."
"Isn't your redheaded friend going to save us one?"
"Molly doesn't know that I'll be there with you tonight. I'm kinda hoping she doesn't show up."
"Why not? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me in public?"
Lisa flashed Alex an exasperated look. "Molly is a dear friend, but she asks too many questions."
"About us?"
"Yes."
"And you don't have the answers?"
Lisa grew thoughtful for a moment. "I'm still working on the answers."
Willing to take a maybe rather than a no, Alex nodded. "Then let's go. The music awaits."
Lisa had forgotten how much fun Alex could be when he put his mind to it. Her husband was a great dancer, and in the hour since they'd been at the club they had danced to almost every song, from fast to slow to funky.
Molly hadn't put in an appearance as yet, much to Lisa's relief—explanations weren't something she had a lot of right now, and her friend would want to know why Lisa was on a date with the man she intended to divorce. A mutual friend, Cissy Timmerhorn, had confided that Molly was expected around eleven.
Alex sipped his scotch and smiled, clearly enjoying himself. "Are you having fun?"
Lisa nodded. "I'd almost forgotten what a great dancer you are. Have you been practicing?" she teased.
He reached for her hand. "I do other things great, too, if you'd care to take a stroll down memory lane."
Sipping her margarita, Lisa felt her face heat and gazed flirtatiously at her husband over the salted rim of her glass. "Can you have a night of sex with no strings attached?" She held her breath, waiting for his answer. She wanted to make love with Alex, but on her own terms.
He arched a disbelieving eyebrow. "Can you?"
Before she could answer, a familiar figure strolled up to their table and Lisa almost groaned aloud. It was Guy Wil
kes, also known as The Preacher, for the way he preyed on women.
Noting the angry snarl crossing her husband's lips, she placed her hand over his, which was now fisted, and whispered, "He's just a friend."
"Hey, babe! You're looking hot tonight. How about a dance?"
"No thanks, Guy. As you can see, I'm here with someone tonight."
The tall man glanced over at Alex and nearly dismissed him, until recognition lit his eyes. "I remember you. You're the ex-husband, right?"
"I'm not ex yet, so take a hike, preacher-man," Alex said, tossing back the remainder of his drink.
Guy ignored the request by turning his back on Alex. "Come on, babe. You know how much I like the slow ones. And we dance so well together."
Lisa sighed, hoping that by appeasing Guy he would leave her and Alex alone for the rest of the evening. She intended to tell him as much, once she was out of earshot of her husband. "Do you mind, Alex?"
"I guess not," he replied, and though she was relieved that he was being calm and sensible, she was almost disappointed by his lack of jealousy, as stupid as that sounded.
"Quit holding me so tightly, Guy," Lisa warned her partner in no uncertain terms once they were on the dance floor, trying to put some distance between them. "And if you grind your hips into me one more time, I'm going to put you permanently out of commission. Is that clear?" Guy grinned. "Crystal, babe. Crystal."
Seated alone at the table, Alex was doing his best to control his temper as he watched Lisa and Guy dance, but he wasn't doing a very good job of it.
Letting another man dance with the woman he loved ranked right up there with lending someone your toothbrush or underwear. It wasn't something he felt comfortable with. And that discomfort grew to major proportions when he saw Guy push his hips toward Lisa's and slide his hands over her butt.
Slamming his glass down on the table, Alex cursed. "That's it," he said. Other patrons nearby turned to look as he jumped to his feet.
Heading directly for the dancing couple, Alex paused before them and tapped Guy on the shoulder. "I'm cutting in."
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