Meet Me in Manhattan (True Vows) (8 page)

"That's disgusting," Kate said, making a face. Erika was laughing, though. He hadn't offended her-and he realized belatedly
that he could have, given how into horses she was. But she seemed
to think the legend of Catherine the Great was hilarious, which
only made him like her even more.

"I don't want to think about the prom," Allyson declared. "I'll
probably have to go with a cousin or something."

"I'll take you," Will offered.

Allyson threw back her head and laughed. "I'll go with my
cousin."

Will pretended to be deeply hurt, but he chuckled as he reached
for a third slice of pizza. Guys who wrestled heavyweight tended
to eat a lot. And Will had to know that Allyson Rhatican would
never go to the prom with him. She was one of the most popular
girls in the high school. For that matter, Ted was sure she wouldn't
have to resign herself to attending the prom with her cousin.

Unless they had some sort of spectacular falling out, he would
go with Kate. Theirs wasn't the love of the century. It wasn't even
the love of the high school. But she was attractive and pleasant,
and he had faith that they'd experience a natural parting of the
ways when she left for college in the fall. He had no idea what
he'd be doing, other than earning some money and trying to fig ure out what he wanted to be when he grew up. But he and Kate
would go their separate ways, and no one would cry too hard
when it was all over.

He'd better start lining up caddying gigs, though. No one
golfed in early March, at least not in northern Jersey. But if he was
going to do the prom thing-complete with a freaking rented
limo-he was going to need some money. The minute the golf
club opened, he'd be there, hustling. He didn't want to miss the
big senior-class event.

After all, if Erika showed up at the prom riding a horse, he sure
as hell wanted to be there to see it.

ERIKA WOUND UP GOING TO THE PROM with Peter, a boy she
knew through Allyson. He was nice, he looked less dorky in a tux
than most high school boys did, he bought her a delicate orchid
corsage, and they traveled to the prom in a limo with Allyson and
her date and a few other kids. If Ted and Kate were in another
group limo, Erika didn't know.

It was just as well they weren't in Erika's limo. Ever since she'd
attended that wrestling meet a couple of months ago, she'd been
more aware of Ted Skala than she ought to be. Her memory was
haunted not only by his grace on the mat but by the flinty intensity in his eyes when he'd faced his opponent, the pugnacious tilt
to his chin, his entire bearing. His attitude. His body, his strength,
his moves, his posture all seemed to be saying, I will win this
thing. I will emerge triumphant. I will find the route to success and
take it.

It was an aura of determination and purposefulness she wasn't
used to associating with Ted. Most of the time he was funny and
full of energy, the kind of guy who greeted life's shadows and
dark places with a shrug and a smile. In a school as small as
Mendham High, he couldn't hide his mediocre scholastic performance, and he didn't try. He couldn't evade his record of detentions-never for anything awful, but he got himself into
minor scrapes fairly consistently and didn't seem to care. As far
as Erika could tell, he didn't take anything seriously. He
approached life with a carefree spirit, which, to someone like her,
who was so serious about her riding, had a certain enviable
appeal.

Except that he clearly did take his wrestling seriously. When he
was wrestling, he became someone different. Someone deeper,
more complex. Someone she'd been thinking about in ways a girl
shouldn't think about a guy who was seeing someone else.

It was silly. He and Kate had been a couple for a long time.
Besides, Erika didn't want a boyfriend. High school was winding
down, and when she fantasized about her future, it included
learning new things, living in new places, conquering new
skills-but not falling in love. Who needed that? It would only
get in the way.

What she felt when she thought about Ted wasn't love. Not
even close. But it was ... something.

She felt it as soon as she and Peter entered the hotel banquet
room where the prom was taking place and she spotted Ted
standing in a circle of friends near the bar. He didn't look silly in
his tux, either. His hair was wild with curls and waves, but from
the forehead down, he appeared remarkably presentable. His tux
fit well on his lanky frame, emphasizing his long legs and horizontal shoulders. His tie sat like a symmetrical satin butterfly at
the base of his throat. His eyes-the eyes that could harden into
ice when he wrestled-were bright with laughter.

Kate stood beside him, looking gorgeous in a sleek, dark dress.
Erika felt unfashionably boring in her pastel-hued gown. It was
pretty enough, and her mother and sister had assured her that it
made her look slim and willowy. But it wasn't sleek.

Erika had never compared herself to other girls before, unless
they were riders and she was comparing her form to theirs when
they jumped. She saw no reason to start comparing now.

As soon as her group had found an empty table where they
could leave their purses and favors, Erika decided she was terribly
thirsty. "I'm going to get something to drink."

"I'll come with you," Peter offered. She smiled and hooked her
hand through the bend in his elbow, feeling just the slightest bit
debutante-ish as they promenaded across the room to the bar. Its
mahogany counter was lined with bottles of water, fruit juice, and
assorted sodas.

She would have felt a lot more sophisticated if she'd been able
to ask the bartender for a glass of wine, but obviously that wasn't
going to happen at a high school-sponsored event. "I'll have a
diet Coke," she requested.

Peter asked for a ginger ale. Once they had their drinks, they
turned from the bar. Ted's eyes met hers, and his smile widened.
He raised his glass in a silent toast.

God, he looked adorable. Something about the contrast
between his scruffy hair and his suave tuxedo ignited a warm,
tingly sensation in Erika's gut.

"I've got to say hello to Ted," she said, steering Peter toward
the group where Ted was standing. "And Kate," she added, as if
acknowledging Ted's girlfriend would make him seem less attractive to her.

"Hey, Fred," Ted greeted her as she neared him. "Wow, you
look great!"

"You clean up pretty well, too."

"Rumor has it he even showered," Kate teased, although there
was a caustic edge to her voice. Did she mean to imply that he
didn't shower often?

Of course he showered. And Erika was probably just imagining
the brittle, slightly bitchy undertone in Kate's voice. "Well," she
said amiably. "Here we all are."

"Adam smuggled in a flask if you want to spike your soda," Ted
murmured.

Peter looked intrigued, but Erika shook her head. "Walking
around in these high heels is difficult enough when I'm sober."

"High heels, huh? Let's see," Ted demanded.

Erika dutifully inched the hem of her dress up to mid-shin and
showed off her strappy metallic-leather sandals with their threeinch heels. Her mother had treated her to a manicure and pedicure that afternoon, and her toes looked daintier and more
feminine than they'd ever been before.

Peter clearly appreciated her feet. "This is like Victorian times,"
he said. "Ah, for a glimpse of ankle."

Erika had assumed that, given her gown's spaghetti straps and
the daring swoop of its neckline, plenty enough of her skin was
exposed, even if the floor-length hem concealed her feet.
Victorian the dress was not.

Across the room, a deejay began spinning tunes. The air
smelled of perfume and cologne and the faintly ozone-y scent of
industrial air conditioning. The carpet below Erika's polished
toenails bore an ugly pattern, mustard and maroon interlocking
rectangles.

"Let's dance," she said to Peter. Near the deejay, the carpet gave
way to a parquet dance floor. She'd rather have her pretty feet on
that than on the carpet.

Peter emitted a long-suffering sigh and mumbled, "Okay."
Only when they'd reached the dance floor, after stopping en route
at their table to stash their drinks, and merged with the dozens of
other classmates dancing and singing along with Bon Jovi did she realize the carpet had nothing to do with her desire to cross the
room. She'd needed to dance so she wouldn't be standing so close
to Ted. She was too conscious of him. Too drawn to him. When
she'd shown him her feet, his eyes had narrowed with the same
intensity she'd perceived when she'd seen him wrestle, the intensity that seemed to trip a switch inside her.

Had he been planning to wrestle her to the ground? Pin her?
Wrap his legs around hers the way he'd wrapped them around his
opponent?

The idea of Ted Skala pinning her, pressing her shoulders to
the floor, straddling her, and gazing down into her face with his
dazzling green eyes reignited that tingling sensation low in her
belly.

The crowd swallowed her and Peter up and the music washed
over them, twanging guitars, thumping drums, and Jon Bon
Jovi's harrowing wail. At the song's chorus, everyone belted out
the words-You were born to be my baby.

We're not babies anymore, Erika thought. They were mere days
away from being high school graduates.

Someone jostled her and she opened her eyes. The dance floor
had grown much more crowded, which she kind of liked, actually.
She had always felt somewhat like an outsider at Mendham High
School, having moved to the town barely two and a half years ago.
But right now, surrounded by her classmates, she didn't feel like
an outsider. She danced with them, was a part of them, moved in
sync with them. Sang Bon Jovi lyrics with them.

As long as no one stomped on her pedicured feet she'd be fine.

The song ended and another one began: Bruce Springsteen,
Human Touch. Erika briefly wondered whether the deejay
intended to play only songs by New Jersey rockers for the entire
prom. She started to laugh, and then stopped when she saw Ted out on the floor, separated from her by only a couple of people.

His gaze met hers and he smiled.

She smiled back.

This wasn't good, she thought. She shouldn't take such delight
in his smile, in his appreciative gaze. She shouldn't be thinking
about whether there was a discreet way to maneuver past the two
people who stood between her and Ted, dancing their hearts out.
It shouldn't matter to her that he looked cute in a tax. After
tonight, she would never see him in formal apparel again, unless
they both got invited to a classmate's wedding sometime down
the road and he happened to be one of the ushers.

Ted Skala shouldn't matter to her. But he did.

Was there some law that said you had to do the prom thing? Had
to spend tons of money, dress in a stupid penguin suit with
adjustable waistband trousers that didn't quite adjust snugly
enough, so you kept feeling as if your pants were going to slide down
over your butt? Had to act like you wanted to preserve every precious
moment of the night in your mental memory scrapbook? Did they
withhold your diploma if you used the wrong fork to eat your salad,
assuming you could call a few limp green weeds and a single cherry
tomato drowning in oil and vinegar a salad?

Hell. The prom was fine. Nothing really wrong with it. Nothing
wrong with posing for a bunch of photos and chatting politely with
Kate's parents-and a few hundred of her closest neighbors, who'd
all trooped over to her house to ooh and ahh over how nice the
young couple looked. Nothing wrong with sneaking just a few drops
ofAdam's vodka into your Coke. You weren't driving. You'd paid all
that freaking money for the limo, after all.

No, the problem wasn't the prom. The problem was that you were
standing at a doorway, about to open it and cross the threshold into the next stage of your life, and all you could think of was missed
opportunities, things left undone, and the cruel truth that once you
exited this room you would never be allowed back into it.