The pitcher lobbed the ball and it was a swing and a miss.
“That’s okay, Paul.” Holly shouted again. “Good eye, good eye.”
Gwen saw that while his timing was off by a hair, he had real power. As soon as he did connect, the ball would fly out of the park. She crossed the fingers of her other hand.
Another strike.
The whole team was shouting now, at least those not too busy drinking beer from the conveniently located cooler. They were playing against Harland, Inc., a very reputable agency with very nice people whom her crew liked a great deal off the field. The loser had to spring for beer and pizzas after.
At the third pitch she held her breath. A ball. That was okay, but her heart couldn’t take this. She wanted to sit down, shut her eyes until it was over, but couldn’t. Another pitch and damn! The crack of the bat filled the air and that ball was so far out of there it almost hit a car across the street. A home run!
Gwen shouted like a lunatic. She was so proud of him, it set off every girl hormone in her body.
Then when he came back to the bleachers, panting after running the bases, and swept her into his arms for a kiss, she positively swooned with such happiness that she had no words. Only feelings. Lots of them.
“WHAT’S THIS?”
Paul’s secretary placed the brightly wrapped package on his desk. “It just arrived.”
“What is it?”
“I believe you’re going to have to open the package to find out.” Tina grinned at him, then returned to her office.
He had a million things to do today, but he could take a few minutes to open it, right? He tore into the paper and there was his first hint, a rather big one. The name Christopher on a shipping label on the box. What was Gwen up to?
He wrestled with the tape and finally got the box open to find a very well protected, very small reproduction of Venus de Milo.
He knew instantly that he’d assumed the wrong Christopher yet again.
A card was inside the box.
Sweet, Wonderful Paul,
Here I am in Rome with all its great restaurants and fabulous bars, but all I can think of is you. I hate that you haven’t called me. I know I’ve been out of town, but I’m coming home on Thursday. Please, please let’s do something wicked. I won’t be able to have a good time until I’m with you. I hope you like the Venus.
Love, Autumn
Damn. He’d been putting it off, but that had to end. He’d make lunch plans with her. That couldn’t end up too badly, right? Besides, he didn’t think it would break her heart not to have him chasing after her. Her ego, maybe, but nothing more.
He needed to tell her what was going on with him and Gwen. Or maybe he should break it off with her first, then tell her about Gwen another time. Knowing Autumn, that seemed the best route.
He placed the Venus, which didn’t match the decor in his office or his house, and was pretty shabby in fact, back into the box. Then he hit Gwen’s speed-dial number on his phone.
“Gwen Christopher.”
“It’s me.”
“Hey,” she said, and he could hear her smile.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Book club,” she said, her voice low and intimate.
They hadn’t done more than kiss since that night. He hadn’t pressed, she hadn’t brought it up. All the same there was a whole lot of simmering going on. “Tonight?”
“Yes, tonight.”
“Oh.”
She laughed. “I completely understand why you haven’t finished the book. It’s okay. You’ve been incredibly busy.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts. Besides, I don’t think you’d love book club. Especially my book club. We tend to go off on tangents. Long ones. Many involve cooking.”
“Cooking?”
“Seriously, Paul. Finish the book if you like, but don’t think twice about these little meetings. Use tonight to catch up on some sleep. You need it.”
“I know what would make me sleep better.”
She snorted. “That’s such a lie I can’t even stand it. Drink some warm milk. Read. Sleep.”
He sighed. “I’ll try, but I’ve been putting off a couple things I need to handle. Save tomorrow night for me. I’ve got a dinner to go to at The Ivy. No big deal…it would be nicer if you were there.”
There was a pause, which he figured was work related. Finally, she came back to him. “I wish I could. I don’t think that’s gonna work for me, though. Anyway, my three o’clock is here. Talk to you later.”
With that, she was gone. What had happened? How had a woman he shouldn’t even know become so important to him?
“I’m having the ribs.” Holly put down her menu and shoved it to the middle of the table. “I shouldn’t have ribs, but I am. With fries. And a beer.”
“I understand completely.” Gwen looked for their waitress, who was nowhere to be seen. “I’ve had too much popcorn and beer lately. So it’s a salad and water for me.”
“Well, I don’t have a man to get naked for.” Holly sighed. “I’d totally have salad if it would mean I could order someone like Paul off the menu.”
“I’m not getting naked.”
Holly’s look of shock was like something from a cartoon. “You’re not? What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong. We’re just taking it slowly.”
“Excuse me, but you’re completely insane. Have you looked at him?”
Gwen nodded, wishing they’d at least gotten their beverages before this subject had come up. “I have. Quite a lot, actually.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“That’s just it. There is no problem that I can see, except for the very obvious. It’s a doozy, so, I’m taking my time.”
“Obvious to whom? What the hell are you talking about?”
Only one thing was more uncomfortable for Gwen than talking about her sex life, and that was talking about the glaring disparity between her and Paul. “Despite his love of baseball and horror flicks, his world and mine are in different universes. Remember, right after the anniversary party? We talked about this? You said, if I’m remembering correctly, which I am, that it must be nice to live in the world of plastic surgery and paparazzi, as long as one didn’t have many brain cells?”
“That was before I knew him. He’s not the airhead I thought he’d be.”
“Yeah, I know. But the world he lives in is filled with them. It’s a place I have no interest in.”
The waitress showed up and they ordered.
Holly shifted in her seat.
It struck Gwen how attractive her friend was. Her curly hair framed her face perfectly, her lips were full and her wide eyes sparked with intelligence and humor. But Gwen would bet a paycheck that no one at The Ivy would look twice at her because she wasn’t a traditional beauty.
“Paul doesn’t seem to have a problem coming to you. He’s loving it. You’re exactly what the man needed. Even I can see he looks happier.”
“He asked me to go with him tonight, to a dinner at The Ivy. He was meeting some clients. Show business people. He hated that I said no, but what would I do there? I have nothing in common with those people.” And yet, she was jealous. She assumed he’d taken someone else. Someone who fit right in. Someone like Autumn. Or maybe it was Autumn. She shivered.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She would not go there. Not ever again.
“You have Paul,” Holly said.
It took a moment for Gwen to remember the flow of the conversation.
“You admire his business sense, so there’s that. And who knows. He surprised us both. Who’s to say we haven’t been the ones who have it all wrong? What if there are other terrific, smart, insightful people who just happen to be gorgeous?”
“I don’t believe many of them just happen to be gorgeous. I think they work very, very hard at it. I know my sisters do.” She thought again about Autumn, but refused to dwell. “Good God, it’s practically all they can talk about. Working out obsessively, spending all their money on spas and clothes. The only reason they work at all is to finance their addictions.”
Holly snorted just as their drinks arrived. She poured her beer, all the while shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but your family can’t be representative. I’ve never met people more obsessed with looks. God, they’re impossible.”
“That’s just it. They are. Between them all, they’ve injected enough collagen to float a ship.”
“Honey, none of them hold a candle to you. You know that, right? Kudos to Paul for being smart enough to see who you are. A man like that isn’t to be sneezed at. He clearly wants more in his life than Malibu Barbie.”
Gwen wanted to believe it was that simple. “I agree. It’s great when he’s with us. It won’t be like that if I go to his world. They’ll all wonder what he’s doing with a woman like me. They won’t care about what we have in common, or that we have such fun together. They’ll judge him, and he won’t come out favorably. How can I do that to him? His work is all about keeping up appearances.”
“Why do you think he’d give a rat’s ass?”
“Even if he doesn’t now, he will eventually. He’s been that beautiful all his life, Holly. That’s what he knows. I just don’t think I could stand to watch him be humiliated. It would kill me.”
Holly put her hand on Gwen’s. “Look, I’m not discounting what you said, or even denying there’s some truth in it. Still, I don’t think you’re giving the man the credit he deserves. You’re projecting like mad.”
Gwen’s first instinct was to dismiss Holly’s words. She was a friend and a romantic. Of course she wanted a happy ending. Maybe, though, Gwen was underestimating Paul’s strength. She had to admit, he’d surprised her in a hundred ways, why not this?
On the other hand, she’d watched him at the bar, at the ballpark. He used his looks to get what he wanted. It wasn’t intentional, rather instinctual. He was used to being fawned over, having the world handed to him on a platter.
Was it possible even with his best intentions to overcome a lifetime of conditioning?
“I know that look,” Holly said. “You’re thinking too damn much. Here’s an idea—what if you just pretend you can’t see the future? What if you try to be with him as if it’s exactly what both of you should be doing? Let yourself be surprised by what comes next. The worst that can happen is it won’t work out. Give it a chance. He deserves that, and so do you.”
Gwen tucked into her salad. Could Holly be right? Was she simply projecting her worst fears, and would that cause her to miss out on a chance for real happiness? The hell with the diet. She called over the waitress and ordered a glass of wine.
PAUL WHIPPED OUT the flowers he’d been hiding behind his back. Gwen’s mouth opened in a big O that turned into a smile so great it made his whole week better.
“What’s this for?” she asked, taking the bouquet of white and rust calla lilies. “They’re amazing. How did you know these were my favorite flowers?”
He walked inside feeling pretty awesome. “I didn’t. Not for sure, anyway. I knew you liked them because you have that picture in the bathroom.”
She kissed him before she shut the door. “Thank you. Come with me into the kitchen so I can put them in water.”
He obeyed, happily, thinking he wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee. Something that would wake him up. He’d spent all afternoon at Dodger Stadium with a group of producers and directors from the DIY shows he repped. Even though he had three of his people there, it had still been exhausting, and he’d missed most of the game. But the party had gotten them all in one room and they’d agreed to go in together on his year-long promo plans that would cover TV, print and special events.
He’d rather have been alone with Gwen. He’d even have settled for her joining the group, but she’d said she had other things to do.
He sat down on a stool by the bar and watched as she fussed over the flowers. He didn’t actually care how they ended up, just that she was happy.
“They’re stunning. I love them.” She turned to look at him. Her smile faded a bit. “You look exhausted. You want to skip tonight?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”
She seemed relieved. “Okay. Wine? Beer? Coffee?”
“Coffee would be great.”
“Won’t take me two seconds.” She turned to the cupboard and took out a tiny little coffeemaker, one that made a single cup. She had a little grinder right next to it and in no time the scent of coffee filled the space.
“What else? Did you eat all afternoon, or were you too busy working it?”
“I ate, I think. Nothing too fancy, but really, coffee’s all I can handle for the moment. Don’t worry, though. After a cup, I’ll be ready to go. We can dine anywhere you like.”
“Hmm,” she said, “I was thinking we might just stay here. Watch a little TV maybe, or I don’t know. Perhaps we can find some other way to occupy the evening.”
That woke him right up, although he doubted she meant what he hoped she meant. “Here is good. Here is very good.”
“I’m glad.” She got out some half-and-half, and brought it to him, along with a spoon, a napkin and a white ceramic bowl of sugar.
Paul tried to read her, to see if there was even a remote possibility she’d meant more than watching TV. Her smile was enigmatic, which wasn’t unusual. She was always enigmatic.
She’d worn her hair down and soft, begging to be touched. She had on this really silky-looking blouse, light green that went with her eyes. Shit. She was barefoot under her loose-fitting pants. And her toenails were painted, something light and feminine.
She coughed, making him look up at her face. “I can put on shoes if you like.”
“No. No, no. I like bare feet. Not that I have a fetish about them or anything. I mean, feet are feet, but it’s nice when they look so pretty and…You’re laughing at me.”
“Yes, I am. In a good way.”
He rubbed his face with his hand, thinking it would be really great to take a long, hot shower. Instead, he fixed his cup of coffee and watched her putter. That was enough.
“I had a busy day, myself.” Gwen rinsed out the coffeemaker and brewed another cup. “I shopped and got all my veggies together for the week. Very noble. Then I looked for towels and ended up spending a small fortune on tchotchkes I don’t need.”
“For example?”
“A watering can. Not that they’re unnecessary, but I already have a perfectly fine can.”
“What enticed you to buy this one?”
She knelt by the cupboard under the sink and took out a funny-looking blue thing that had a long curved spout. “How could I resist?”
“I have no idea. I’m shocked it was still on the shelf.”
“Ah, so now you’re laughing at me.”
“Yes,” he repeated. “I am.”
“In a good way.”
“Always.”
“So movies, yes?” she asked. “Shall I make popcorn?”
“Movies, yes. Only make the popcorn if you want it. I guess I ate more at the park than I thought.”
“No. We can just veg, and watch anything you like.”
“Shall we move to the couch?”
The enigmatic smile returned. “Actually, I was thinking we could watch in my bedroom.”
“Bedroom?”
“I have a great TV there.”
He was glad he’d put his mug down or he’d have dropped it. He’d been amazingly restrained about the whole sex thing, figuring she’d let him know when it was time. What he didn’t know, not for sure, was if this was the signal. Any other woman he’d known, he wouldn’t have had to think twice. Gwen was harder to read.
“If you don’t want to, the couch is fine.”
“No. I’d like to watch TV wherever you’re comfortable.”
She came over to the bar across from him. “If by watch TV you mean make love, then I’d be comfortable.”
He stood. “I can do that. I can do that just fine.”
She grinned. “You can finish your coffee.”
He smiled back. “I’m done. Great coffee. Seriously, best I’ve ever had.”
She laughed.
He followed her, not ashamed that he kept far enough back that he could watch her ass the whole way. Now he wished her blouse wasn’t so long. Damn, he hadn’t considered this was an option. Thankfully, he’d replaced the condom in his wallet. Too bad he hadn’t brought two. Funny how he didn’t feel tired anymore. He still could use that shower, though.
She led him down a small hallway that had some nice black-and-white pictures on the wall, then to her bedroom. The king-size bed, covered in a purple comforter, was done up girl style with more pillows than he’d ever understand. But nice. There was a major flat-screen TV on the opposite wall, and near the window next to an antique dresser was an armchair and a brass reading lamp.
Then he noticed a champagne bucket set up by the bed. He went to investigate, but there was no actual champagne. Just a couple of Heineken beers and a couple of water bottles in ice. “Hmm,” he said, “should I be insulted?”
“Why?”
“You seem pretty confident I was a sure thing.”
She came up to him and touched the back of his neck with her hand. Looking into his eyes, her own alight with a mixture of heat and laughter, she nodded. “Reasonably confident,” she whispered, just before she kissed him.
They’d kissed a lot since that night on the couch, but this was different. It was a prelude, and that changed everything. Just because he hadn’t pushed her didn’t mean he hadn’t wanted to. It was a whole new thing with Gwen, kind of like reading that damn book. Who knew literary fiction could be foreplay?
He kissed her back, not wanting to go too fast. There was still the shower to deal with before he could let himself splurge.