“They are not slutty,” Lizza corrected her. “They’re very Sex And The City.”
“And Sex And The City was such a family show,” Meredith said. She fastened the jeans, slipped one of the tops over her head and took a look in the mirror. This was a mistake. She stepped out of the dressing room so her suspicions could be confirmed.
“Oh, Meredith...I wish I could wear sleeveless. How do you keep your arms from looking like wet noodles?” Celia asked.
“Pilates and thanks,” Meredith answered. “You like this top?”
“That shade is fabulous,” Lizza gushed. “Aubergine is just the color right now.”
Meredith took another look. Tiny jet beads accented the silver embroidery along the cami’s deep V. Pin tucks hugged the silky fabric to the curve of her bosom; from there, the top went soft and floaty into an asymmetrical hem. “It is a nice color.”
“You have a great tush for jeans, too.” Viv smiled. “I really hate you right now.”
“That’s very nice, but I can’t wear this.” Meredith shook her head.
“Why not?” Lizza asked.
“Because it’s sleeveless and it’s spring. It still gets chilly at night.”
“Ah.” Lizza held up one ruby-tipped finger and slipped into the dressing room. She came out with a fitted olive-green velvet jacket. “Here.”
Meredith shrugged the jacket on. “People wear these colors together?”
“Of course,” Lizza said.
The velvet was soft and snuggling. Meredith took a look in the mirror. Kelly had liked the red dress Lizza had selected so maybe he’d like this too. “Okay. I’m done shopping.”
Viv laughed. “Where’s your sense of optimism? Buy more than one outfit.”
“But that implies—”
“Yes,” Viv nodded, lips pursed in a knowing way. “It does.”
* * *
Meredith arrived at Sedona at quarter to seven. Being early gave her time to go over what she planned to say to Kelly. She’d eat dinner with him, thank him for a nice evening and then gently explain why she couldn’t see him anymore. As far as the blog incident, Jillian could arrange for some sort of mea culpa interview somewhere and that would have to do for penance.
“Welcome to Sedona.” The curvy redhead at the hostess stand looked like she was no stranger to the plastic surgeon’s office. “Do you have a reservation?”
Meredith straightened. “No, I’m meeting someone at the bar.”
“Very good.” The woman smiled. “That’s a lovely top. Great color.”
And those are ambitious implants, Meredith wanted to say, but held her tongue. “Thank you.”
She tucked herself into the only empty seat in the bar. The happy hour crowd was still there and judging from the laughs and back slapping, very happy. She ordered a club soda and studied the rows of bottles along the back wall. Who knew there were so many kinds of tequila? Maybe she should have the bartender call up and tell Kelly she was here.
The bartender set her drink down but walked away before she could make herself heard above the noisy businessmen next to her. She picked up her drink to take a sip. The suit beside her chose that moment to pantomime part of the story he’d been telling. His elbow connected with her hand and the glass went flying. The crash of glass got the bartender’s attention. He bent to pick up the pieces.
“Whoa...” The suit spun around to face her. “Sorry about that.” He loosened his already drooping tie and gave her a whiskey sour grin. “Lemme buy you another.”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.” Just turn around and leave me alone.
“I inshist,” he said.
The bartender put another club soda in front of her.
“Excuse me.” She held up a finger to get the man’s attention but he was already at the service bar. Had Kelly purposefully hired the fastest bartender in the city?
“You have pretty eyes,” the suit said, doing his drunken best not to seem obvious as he peered down her shirt.
She pulled her jacket closed and ignored him.
“What’s a matter? Doncha wanna talk to me?” The man rested his elbow on the bar in front of her, blocking her access to her drink. He reached for her arm but another hand grabbed his and jerked him out of his seat.
“You’re done. Let’s get you a cab.” Kelly hustled the protesting man out of the bar, returning solo a few minutes later. His face was grave, his tone worried. “I’m sorry. That should not have happened.”
“It’s okay,” she said and meant it. His pale yellow shirt was unbuttoned enough to show a tantalizing glimpse of tanned chest. A long-forgotten warmth spread through her thighs. Saying goodbye might be a little harder than anticipated. “Thank you for taking care of it.”
The sparkle returned to his eyes and soft smile curved his mouth. He held out his hand. “Wanna get out of here? I know a quiet spot one floor up.”
She slipped her hand into his. No reason not to be pleasant. “And the cynics say chivalry is dead.”
“Not in Texas, ma’am.” He tipped an imaginary hat as he escorted her to the elevator.
“You do realize you’re not in Texas, don’t you?” she joked.
“Don’t remind me.” He scuffed one boot on the floor. “You look...” He slanted a glance her way. “You look real nice.”
“Thank you.” She smiled. “My friends made me do some shopping.” Why had she said that? The doors opened and they got on. “How did you find me in the bar? Did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t know.” He shook his head. “But you seem like the kind to be early for things so I thought I’d come down and have a look. Good timing, I guess.”
She nodded. “Thanks again.”
The serious expression returned to his face. “Like I said, it shouldn’t have happened. The bartenders usually keep a better eye on the happy hour crowd.”
“I think that’s your problem, there was only one bartender.”
“I know. We usually have two but Tia called in sick, Shelby didn’t feel up to coming in and my other bartender is running late.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m really glad you came.”
The doors opened and her breath caught in her throat. The VIP dining room looked much the way it had the first night she’d seen it, all silver stars and flickering candles, but tonight the center of the room held a lavishly set table for two. White china and crystal glittered under the fairy lights. Soft jazz played in the background. For the centerpiece, a small silver bowl held a tight bouquet of white roses flanked by a scattering of tea lights. Snowy covers dressed the chairs.
In the room of burgundy and indigo, the all white table glowed like a pristine beacon. The effect was stunning. So much for the informal dinner.
“You did this for me?” Maybe there was more to the cowboy than she’d given him credit for. But she was right about him being an overachiever, not that that mattered at the moment.
“I had a little help from a few of the girls on the wait staff.” He grinned. “You like it?”
“Yes. It’s beautiful.” Not in a long time had a man gone to such trouble for her. Why was Kelly doing this? Seemed like a lot of effort just to get her into bed. Or whatever he was after.
“I’m glad.” He escorted her to the table and pulled out her chair. She sat, still slightly dazed by the whole thing.
“Why did you do all this?” She motioned to the table.
“For you.” His grin went lopsided as he sat. “Is there a better reason than that?” He shook his head, amused. “Don’t you remember?”
She draped the white linen napkin across her lap. “Remember what?”
“That first night. In the elevator.”
When he’d kissed her. Oh yes, she remembered that. Her face warmed. “What about it?”
“You told me you’d had two husbands and it took a lot more to impress you.” He swept his hand over the table. “I’m just upping my game.”
Eyes narrowed, she peered at him. Good. You’re making
it easier for me to tell you this is it. “So this is a game?”
He groaned. “That’s just an expression.” He shook his napkin out and tucked it onto his lap. “You really need to get out more.” Big grin. “With me.”
“My friends think so, too,” she conceded. Not that she was convinced.
“Smart bunch of women.”
“More like conniving.”
“That Vivian seems like a sharp cookie. I bet she could talk a dog off a meat wagon.”
Meredith wrinkled her brow. “A meat wagon?”
“I’m just saying she knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it.”
“That’s because whatever she goes after is usually more afraid of her.”
Kelly laughed.
“I know she gave you my address to send the roses.”
He nodded. “Let that out, did she?”
A server set plates of artfully arranged salad before them, then slipped away as quietly as he’d come in. Meredith shook her head. “She didn’t so much let it slip as she announced it with great pride. I think she considered it her good deed for the day.”
Kelly picked up his fork. “She’s a real trip, Vivian. I like her.”
“She likes you, too. She thinks I should just—never mind.” The words ‘have a fling with you’ had almost popped out.
“She thinks you should just never mind?”
“No. Never mind what I was going to say.”
“Which was?”
“Nothing.” She sipped her water.
“Lying on the first date. Not a positive sign.” He took a bite of his salad.
She set her fork down. “This is not a date.”
He swallowed. “Yes, it is.”
“You got me here under false pretenses.”
“Not hardly.”
“You said it was just going to be an informal dinner.” She waved her hands over the table. “There is nothing informal about this.”
He finished another bite. “You want to leave?”
“No. You went to all this trouble.” She ate some salad. The dressing was sweet and tangy and altogether delicious.
He set his fork down and leaned back in his chair, studying her. “Why are you so dead set against me? Have I done something to offend you? Do I smell bad? What is it?”
“You smell fine.” Better than fine. She spoke without looking at him. This was happening sooner than expected. “You’re just too young, for me anyway. You have a reputation as being a womanizer. I don’t know anything about you. And I’m not looking for another relationship. Not now, not ever. I’ve had my share and I’m done.” If that didn’t get rid of his attentions, she wasn’t sure what would.
“For a doctor of psychology, you’re plum nuts, you know that?” He shook his head. “We’re twelve years apart. Big deal. Age means nothing. And just because I date a lot of women, doesn’t make me a womanizer. I respect women.” He sighed. “Believe it or not, despite your low opinion of me, there are tons of women just dying to go out with me.”
“So date them,” she said, knowing he had probably already gone through most of the eligible women in the city.
“I have. They all wanna make themselves Mrs. Kelly Spicer. I’m not looking to get tethered. Not for a long time.”
“That makes two of us.” At least they had that in common. His confession put her at ease. A little.
He leaned forward. “If you want to get to know me, ask. That’s what this dinner was supposed to be about. You finding out just how close you’d come to figuring me out.”
She still didn’t get it. “Why me? Of all those women chasing you, surely there are a few who don’t have marriage on the brain.”
The sound of his chair scudding across the floor filled the room as he pushed back and crossed one leg. “Well, for one thing you’re complicated.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” she asked.
“I’m serious. There’s a whole lot more to you than just a hot body and a pretty face.”
He thinks I have a hot body and a pretty face?
“You’ve got a brain. You don’t particularly like me, which,” he grinned sheepishly, “makes me want you even more. You also have your own success. That’s key. I don’t feel like you’re looking to hitch your wagon to mine in hopes of bright lights and seeing your name in the paper.”
His last few words made her insides queasy. Good thing she’d changed her mind about that.
“So if I tell you I like you, you’ll leave me alone?” She wanted him to say no. The idea of seeing more of him was getting better. A man who kissed like that couldn’t be so bad to spend time with, could he?
He smiled. “Do you? You do, don’t you?”
“You’re full of yourself, you know that?”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He uncrossed his leg, scooted his chair back under the table and picked up his fork. “So where do you want to go for our second date?”
Meredith stared at him. What had just happened? She’d come here ready to put a stop to things and now she was contemplating seeing him again.
The server returned, cleared their salad plates, then set their entrees before them.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked but after the tasting you did at Gauchos, I figured you were pretty open,” Kelly said.
Food was a safe subject matter. “It looks wonderful. What is it?” The food smelled great, too. No wonder his restaurants did so well.
“Game hens stuffed with cornbread dressing roasted with a jalapeno, Jack Daniels and peach glaze on a bed of wild pecan rice with a side of greens.”
“Wow. That sounds amazing. Are those all your own recipes?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The wattage on his grin threatened to outshine the white tablecloth. She momentarily lost her train of thought. When it hopped back on the tracks, the destination sign had changed.
“If we’re going to see each other, and that really hasn’t been decided yet, you have to stop calling me ma’am.” She dug into her food, eager to see if it tasted as good as it looked.
His eyes twinkled like a kid at Christmas. “No promises. That’s just the way Gram raised me.”
“I was right then.” She took a bite of the game hen. The skin was crisp beneath the hot, sticky glaze and the explosion of flavor made her close her eyes. Images of Kelly filled her head as her mouth watered. She managed to swallow without embarrassing herself. “Oh...that is...really good.”
* * *
The expression of pure pleasure on her face gave Kelly wicked thoughts. Plain and simple, watching her eat made him hot. “Right about what?”
“Your grandmother raised you, not your mother.” She scooped up a big forkful of the wild rice next. “What happened to her?”
“She just wasn’t around.” He did the same, filling his mouth so he wouldn’t have to give more of an answer. His mother was not a subject for discussion. Not now. Not ever.
He chewed slowly, happy to watch her eat and enjoy the teasing glimpse of cleavage her top revealed. Tonight’s jeans really showed off her curves, a big improvement over the ones she’d worn the day before. Damn. One of her husbands must have died in bed. Not a bad way to go if the killer looked like her. Her silky purple top reminded him of lingerie, which sent his mind in a whole new direction. Still, he’d love to see her in a tank top, cut-offs and boots. That was Texas-style sexy.
Finishing her last bite, she opened her mouth to speak and her purse started to buzz. “That’s my phone. Sorry, that’s rude. I should have turned it off.”
“Go ahead and get it, it’s okay.” She’d barely touched her wine, but her water glass was nearly empty. Was she trying to keep a level head around him after the first night? He picked up her glass and headed to the bar for a refill while she took the call. He tried not to listen but in the small room, it was impossible not to.
She pulled the phone from her purse and swiped her finger across the screen.
“Hi there,” she said, a smile he
’d never seen before lighting her face. “I’m great, how are you? You are? When? That’s wonderful! What a nice surprise.”
Kelly tipped a scoop of ice into her glass. The sweetness in her voice made his gut ache. She obviously liked whoever she was talking to.
“I can’t wait to see you, honey.” Her voice practically purred. “I miss you.”
Honey? Kelly topped off their glasses with water. Who was she calling honey? A guy? That would explain why she wasn’t keen on going out with him. She was seeing someone else. Fine. Let her. He’d soon show her who the better man was. He picked up the drinks and headed back to the table.
“Okay, I’ll see you soon. Love you. Bye.”
That halted him in his tracks. Love you? What in the Sam Hill was going on? He set the water down and took his seat across from her.
As far as he was concerned, the good doctor had some explaining to do.
Chapter Ten
Meredith went back to eating like nothing had happened.
He cleared his throat. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, thank you. This is a great meal. I’m glad I came.” She sipped her water. “What were we talking about? Your mother, I think.”
He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I’m glad you like the food but suddenly I’m not so sure I’m glad you came.”
She stopped eating and met his gaze. “Why?”
Nothing in her eyes but curiosity. No lying, no cheating, no deception. Damn, she was good at this. “I don’t think getting involved with a woman who’s already in love with another man is such a good idea, to use a phrase you’re so fond of.”
“In love with another man?” Her eyebrows pulled together. “What are you talking about?”
“I heard the phone call.”
She laughed, narrowing her eyes at him. Her emerald gaze glinted with mischief. “Did that make you jealous?
“Well, not jealous exactl—“
“You’re dying to know who I was talking to, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t say dyin—“
“Oh please. It’s killing you. I can see it on your face. Are you like this with all the women you date?”
The Perfect Dish Page 8