My Favorite Mistake Page 6

  I frowned. “I’m not going with him, for goodness’ sake. I don’t even like horses.”

  Jacki nodded, but gave me that look again. “So when does Barry get back in town?”

  “He’ll be in L.A. for two weeks, maybe three.”

  “But that’s perfect!” Cindy cut in. “Barry never has to know that Redford was even here.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” I said, feeling better. “This whole mistake with Redford will be tied up before Barry gets back.”

  Jacki nodded thoughtfully. “A good plan,” she conceded, then gave me a sly smile. “As long as you don’t repeat your mistake.”

  I swallowed hard. “No chance of that happening…none at all.”

  WHEN I GOT HOME from work that evening, I tried to push aside thoughts of calling Redford to firm up his schedule. Procrastinating, I checked my auction on eBay.

  When the page loaded, I felt a tiny bit relieved to see that the auction stood at only one bid. True, the bidder had met my reserve price of $275, but maybe I’d attracted a no-pay bidder. Normally, of course, I would report a no-pay bidder, but in this case, I’d be willing to let it slide in order to keep the gown.

  Then I zeroed in on the bidder’s user ID: SYLVIESMOM. My mouth pinched involuntarily—the woman at Filene’s who had tried to pry the gown off my body had said her daughter’s name was Sylvie. Could it possibly be the same woman? I looked up the bidder’s profile and saw the zip code was within Manhattan…it seemed too much of a coincidence to be anyone but her.

  And call me warped, but I was not going to let that woman have my dress, especially when now I could use it myself. I was even more concerned when I saw by the high number next to her user ID that she was a veteran buyer—drat! Then in a moment of blessed revelation, I realized I could simply have a friend, i.e. Cindy, bid on the gown and win the auction, with no one the wiser that no money had changed hands. What I had in mind wasn’t ethical if the intent was to run up the price artificially. But this was an emergency, and I had no intention of taking any money from Sylvie’s mom. I’d only be out the percentage of the sale I would owe the auction house.

  By golly, I was going to win back my dress.

  I called Cindy, but before I could tell her what I had in mind, she blurted, “He called!”

  “Who called?”

  “The guy from my Positive Thinking class! He wants to meet for a drink Friday night.”

  “That’s great!” I said and my heart welled for her. She deserved a terrific guy.

  “Maybe buying the wedding dress will work for me, too,” she said, laughing.

  I cleared my throat. “Speaking of the wedding dress, I have a favor to ask.”

  “What?”

  I told her my plan to get my dress back, and she was hesitant until I told her who the bidder was.

  “Ooh! That woman can’t possibly have your dress. What do I have to do?”

  I gave her the auction number. “Log on and bid three hundred dollars. No! Three hundred and five dollars. And thirty-three cents.” Bidding in odd amounts could give a bidder an advantage.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll call you back when I’m finished.” Because she wasn’t an auction/e-mail hound like me, Cindy had one phone line between her phone and computer.

  I watched the auction screen on my computer, hitting the reload button every few seconds until Cindy’s user ID, WANTSAMAN, popped up as the high bidder at $280. No matter what amount a bidder enters, eBay will only increment the bid by enough to win the auction. Since the minimum incremental bid at this price point was five dollars, SYLVIESMOM must have bid exactly $275, ergo Cindy’s bid automatically adjusting to $280. Aha! With such a tentative initial bid, maybe the woman wasn’t that serious about the dress…maybe we would scare her off.

  Cindy called back. “Did it work?”

  “For now. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “So I forgot to ask you—are your parents excited about your engagement?”

  I bit my lip. “I haven’t told them yet.”

  “What? Why not?”

  Good question. Even though they were in England, I could have called their cell phone. My mother, Gayle, put X’s on the calendar to count down the days of my “fertile years.” She liked Barry, and would be beyond ecstatic to learn of our engagement. My dad, Harrison, and Barry had never really clicked. But talking to my dad was like talking to a portly bronze statue. Still, he’d be happy if I were happy.

  “They’re out of the country. I’ll call them…soon.”

  Cindy sighed. “If I were getting married, my parents would throw a parade.”

  I laughed. “Maybe this guy from your Positive Thinking class is the one.”

  “Maybe. Meanwhile, let me know if you see a bachelor go on the block on eBay.”

  “Deal. Talk soon.” I said goodbye and hung up, dreading the call to Redford with every fiber of my being. But neither did I want to wait too long and disrupt his family’s evening. Chastising myself for the ridiculous butterflies in my stomach, I dialed the number he’d given me and exhaled slowly while it rang.

  The phone was picked up, then after much wallowing, a child’s voice came on the line. “Heh-wo?”

  One of his girls, apparently. “Hello, is your daddy there?”

  “Who is dis?”

  “Um, this is…a friend…Denise.”

  “Deece?” the little girl repeated. A man’s voice sounded in the background, then more wallowing of the phone ensued.

  “Hello?”

  My pulse picked up at the sound of his voice—touchably close. “Redford?”

  “Denise?”

  “Is this a bad time?”

  He gave a little laugh. “No. Sorry about that…Janie just learned how to answer the phone.”

  “No problem.” For some reason, I felt weird talking about his children. I cleared my throat. “Did you make flight arrangements?”

  “Yes, I’m flying into LaGuardia Friday around noon. Does that work for you?”

  From Friday to Tuesday—five days. The last time we’d been together for that amount of time, we’d gotten into a lot of trouble. Of course things had changed drastically…

  “Sure, that’ll be fine. I called this morning to confirm our appointment at the IRS office Tuesday morning.”

  “Thanks. What do I need to bring?”

  “Maybe your tax forms for the previous year and the following year, just to be safe.”

  “Will do.”

  I gave him the name and number of a hotel in my neighborhood. “I thought we could sightsee on Saturday.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I have to work Friday, but I could take my lunch hour to meet you at the airport…if you want.”

  “That’s not necessary,” he said. “But I’d like it very much.”

  My midsection tingled. He’d like very much to see me, or he’d like very much not to navigate the trip into the city alone? “Will I know you?” I asked, and was astounded to hear how breathless I sounded.

  “If you ever did,” he said, and his words vibrated in the air with sudden intensity.

  I swallowed hard. “I’ll be wearing—”

  “I’ll know you,” he cut in.

  His words struck me as intimate, and my tongue seemed to adhere to the roof of my mouth. “M-maybe we should exchange cell-phone numbers in case we don’t connect outside baggage claim.”

  “Don’t have one,” he said cheerfully. “See you Friday.”

  “Okay,” I murmured, then slowly disconnected the call, Redford’s voice still reverberating in my head. Why was my skin on fire? My heart crushing against my breastbone? I didn’t want to go back to the place I’d been when I was with Redford; to the darker side of myself, when nothing had mattered but being in his arms. My sense of reason had simply fled. It was almost frightening to think back to how bendable I’d been to his wishes, how easily I had trusted him with my future. Was I truly prepared to see Redford again? Would it be cleansing…or climactic
?

  To assuage my pounding guilt, I picked up the phone and dialed Barry’s cell phone, but got his voice mail.

  “Hey, it’s me,” I said. “Just missing you and wanted to hear your voice.” I worked my mouth from side to side and considered leaving a blubbery admission about Redford then and there, but decided that was cowardly. Instead I said, “Call me when you can,” and pushed the disconnect button.

  I stared at my laboratory-engineered diamond ring until my eyes watered. There were so many reasons not to repeat my mistake of falling for Redford. For one, he was unavailable. For two, I was unavailable.

  We were both unavailable. No mistake about it.

  7

  Friday

  Days left on eBay auction: 4

  Bidding on wedding dress up to: $875

  Winning bidder: SYLVIESMOM

  BY FRIDAY, I still hadn’t gotten used to having the engagement ring on my finger. As I waited on the sidewalk outside LaGuardia baggage claim for Redford to emerge, I adjusted the lump beneath my glove to either side, then back to the middle, expending nervous energy. I had barely slept last night, so I was sporting a rather Goth look from the circles beneath my eyes. My stomach held only coffee. And while I stood there telling my silly self to calm down, the biggest mistake of my life strode outside in the cold February sunshine, and the temperature leapt at least two degrees.

  My vision blurred, then cleared. Either I was having a stroke, or seeing Redford again was affecting the blood flow to my brain. I remembered him being a handsome guy, but in the three years since I’d seen him, he’d matured into a mountain of a full-grown man, filled out and hardened. Of course, the black Western hat was a little imposing, but no less so than the long tan suede duster he wore—a full three cows’ worth.

  I swallowed hard at the transformation from military officer to horseman. Cindy was right: Redford was a cowboy.

  He turned in my direction and his gaze latched on to me. A grin spread over his face revealing white teeth and high dimples. God, I’d forgotten about the dimples…and the impact of his luminous dark eyes. He walked toward me, and I was instantly conscious of my prim ponytail and gray wool coat—a far cry from the mussed hair and denim jacket uniform I’d worn during our brief time together. He’d certainly never seen me in a skirt (although he had seen me in far less). I was surprised he even recognized me…and alarmingly thrilled.

  My heart was thudding like crazy when he stopped in front of me, the tails of his open coat swirling around him. Testosterone wafted off him like invisible tethers, tugging at me from all sides. Under the influence of his bronze, virile stare I managed a smile.

  “Hello, Redford.”

  “Hello, Denise,” he said, his voice guttural, but smooth. Then he reached up with his be-ringed left hand to remove his hat.

  The gesture was so chivalrous, my toes curled. It was just the kind of thing that he had done before to make me feel so feminine and yielding. Beneath the hat, his thick brown hair was a bit longer than the military cut he’d sported when I’d known him. I was startled to see flashes of silver at his temples, a few lines around his amazing eyes. No doubt his experiences in the Gulf had matured him beyond his thirty-eight years. I had offered to meet Redford at the airport because he’d never been to the city. But I suddenly felt foolish because this man had been in places that would make the streets of Manhattan seem like a playground. A pang of gratitude struck me for the sacrifice he’d made, and I felt spoiled for the freedoms I had enjoyed while he’d been overseas. I had the sudden, crazy urge to give myself to him…just like before.

  “You look well,” I said, my voice unsteady.

  “You look beautiful,” he said, then leaned forward and dropped a kiss next to my mouth.

  The feel of his lips on my skin was startlingly familiar, and I fought the instinct to turn toward his kiss, to meet his lips. I couldn’t discern if the contact lasted longer than necessary, or if I was simply processing things in slow-motion. Even after he pulled away, I could feel the weight of his kiss lingering on my skin. When I’d known him before, Redford had elicited a strong visceral response in me, uncommon to me, but obviously not uncommon to him, judging from the women around us who literally seemed to lose direction when they saw him.

  Everyone in Manhattan was familiar with the Naked Cowboy in Times Square—a scantily-clad guitar-playing tourist novelty—but Redford was the real deal with his khaki shirt tucked into loose, faded jeans, held on to narrow hips with a wide black leather belt. His black roper boots would have received a shine this morning from the horsehair brush his grandfather had given him, I thought as details came flooding back. And the bronze of his skin wasn’t the sprayed-on version that many men in New York sported. The fact that I knew what this cowboy looked like naked gave me a boost of female satisfaction…and the dangerous stirrings of temptation. Redford clasped my gloved hand and my ring bit into my skin, a not-so-gentle reminder that I had no business being tempted.

  “God, it’s great to see you, Denise.”

  I didn’t trust my voice…or any other part of my body at the moment, because everything was either tingling, swelling, or vibrating. From the left side of my brain, a rational thought found its way through the mush: Lack of self-control is precisely how you wound up married to a virtual stranger in the first place. I conjured up a casual smile that belied my quaking insides. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

  His amazing smile diminished, and I felt a little indignant. Had he expected me to throw myself into his arms and tell him that I’d fantasized about his lovemaking for the better part of three years? The words watered on my tongue before I swallowed them, disgusted with myself. Two minutes into our reunion and I was already unglued.

  I averted my glance and was pulled back to the present by the noise of the traffic and jostling pedestrians. It occurred to me that standing outside the airport was a very public place to be seen with a handsome man that my boyfriend had no knowledge of. While the likelihood of someone seeing us was remote, it could happen, considering how much Barry and his colleagues traveled. Panic crushed me for a few seconds while I looked from face to face, expecting any second for someone to recognize me. I cast around for a good reason to get moving. “Hungry?” I asked.

  Redford grinned. “Always.”

  I chose not to read anything into his words. “Okay, let’s drop your luggage off at the hotel, then we’ll grab a bite to eat.”

  We joined the line at the taxi stand and I shifted from foot to foot, aware of his eyes on me, trying to think of something to say. The next five days stretched before me like an emotional obstacle course.

  “You look different,” I said, then gave a nervous little laugh. “I don’t know why, but I almost expected to see you in your uniform.”

  He shrugged. “I just traded one hat for another, I guess. You look different, too.”

  A warm blush crawled over my cheeks. “You didn’t seem to have any trouble recognizing me.”

  “Oh, you still stand out in a crowd,” he said, making me more uncomfortable. “You just seem…more buttoned-up.”

  His teasing tone needled me. “Just more mature, I suppose,” I said.

  He made a face. “That’s too bad.”

  I bit my tongue, mostly because I didn’t know how to respond. I hadn’t expected to be so overwhelmed with resurrected feelings. It was surreal—I knew him, but I didn’t know him. We’d been married…then not.

  “So you still don’t own a car?” he asked, gesturing to the taxi stand.

  “More trouble and expense than it’s worth,” I assured him, knowing how bizarre not owning a vehicle seemed to people who lived in less dense areas. “Besides, I either walk or take public transportation everywhere.”

  He looked me up and down and a smile lit his black eyes. “So that’s how you’ve managed to stay in such great shape.”

  My thighs pinged, but I reminded myself that his wife probably wouldn’t be thrilled knowing that he was complimenting hi
s ex. Then a disturbing thought hit me—was Redford a ladies’ man? Was he thinking that this IRS audit was the chance to reunite with an old flame and stoke the fire a little? I looked at Redford with dismay—had he changed so much? Then another possibility struck me—maybe he hadn’t changed at all…maybe I had simply misjudged him when I’d known him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, placing his hat back on his head.

  “Fine,” I said, resolved that I wouldn’t let Redford’s powerful sexuality entice me into making another mistake. I stepped up in the taxi line, relieved to see we were next. “Did you make reservations at the hotel I suggested?” I asked, back to a safer topic.

  He nodded and stepped off the curb, then walked around to the back of the taxi. Brushing off the cabbie’s offer of help, he deposited his leather duffel bag in the trunk himself and closed the lid. “But would you mind if I run a quick errand first?”

  Bewildered, I shrugged. “No, of course not.”

  He handed the cabbie a piece of paper, then held the door open for me to slide in the back seat first. I scooted as close to the opposite door as my bulky coat would allow, but when Redford climbed in, his big body touched mine from knee to shoulder. I decided that pulling away would seem prudish considering our former relationship, so I stared out the window as we drove away and racked my brain for something conversational to say.

  “The drive in will at least give you a great view of the city,” I offered.

  “If I could take my eyes off you.”

  I jerked my head around and, indeed, he appeared to be studying me, his dark eyes earnest beneath the brim of his hat.

  The left side of my body was on fire. “What’s the errand you need to run?”

  “Just a little business transaction,” he said easily.

  In my purse, my cell phone rang. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen—Barry. My stomach dipped. We’d been playing phone tag for days. I inadvertently glanced at Redford, feeling panicky.

  “Don’t let me keep you from something important,” he said.

  The cabbie turned around to verify something on the piece of paper Redford had given him. When Redford leaned forward, I hit the connect button and put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”