A Catered Romance (9 page)

She stared down at the table. The red and white checks of the tablecloth blurred before her eyes. If he hadn’t cared about their differences, why did he set her up at the formal? She swallowed around the lump in her throat.

“Let’s go,” she said, standing. “I’ve eaten enough.” She glanced at the food left on her plate. Normally she scarfed these delicacies up, but being with Tom put her nerves on edge and dulled her appetite.

Holding small plastic containers of assorted pastries, they walked out of the church hall to a dusky blue twilight teeming with festival-goers. Heady, throbbing Greek music came from the stage set up in a corner of the church parking lot.

“Let’s see if we can get a table and listen to the music,” Tom said. “Is that all right with you?” His lopsided grin made her heart kick like one of the Greek dancers on the stage.

“I’ll take you home if you want,” he said, “but it’s kind of early to call it a night. And we still have these pastries to eat. I promised Gail a report on the desserts.”

A light breeze, like a ghostly omen, whispered across Mary Beth’s skin. She looked up at the first stars of the night, translucent diamonds thrown on gray-blue velvet. Fear for herself, for her weakening defenses, made her shiver.

Tom snaked his arm around her waist and drew her close. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said. If she were smart, she’d have him take her home, where she’d lock herself in and settle down with a good book, safe from Tom and her own simmering emotions.

Maybe his attentiveness had mellowed her, but she didn’t want safe. Not tonight. She’d relax, have fun, but that was all.

“Let’s stay awhile and enjoy the music,” she said, smiling up at him.

“Great.” He tightened his arm around her as they threaded their way through the noisy crowd. She leaned against him, caught up in the festive atmosphere that shimmered around them. Being with Tom made everything sharper, brighter, more alive. What harm was there in giving in to her feelings just this once?

“This looks like the place to be,” Tom said. “A real party area.”

The tables set in front of the stage were filled with laughing, talking twenty - and thirty-somethings.

“Looks like all the tables are taken,” Mary Beth said. Disappointment mixed with relief. Maybe Fate was telling her to take the safe course and go home.

“Hey, Tom, over here.” A tall sandy-haired man waved his arms at them.

“Jerry Gordon,” Tom said. “I went to law school with him.” He looked at her. “Do you mind sitting with them if they have room?”

Memories of the last time she had been with a group of Tom’s friends chilled her and she stiffened.

“Well?” he said, still looking at her.

“Sure,” she said, shaking off her fears. She’d promised herself she’d have fun. She wouldn’t let his friends intimidate her.

“Great to see you again,” Jerry Gordon said when they reached his table. He shook Tom’s hand. “We have two places here. Join us.”

They sat down and introductions were made. Some of the women threw assessing glances at Mary Beth before flirting openly with Tom, apparently dismissing her as competition. She gritted her teeth and moved closer to him.

Three hours, and several more glasses of wine later, the music ended and the group at the table broke up.

Tom slipped his arm over Mary Beth’s shoulders as they strolled down the nearly deserted street to his car. She sighed, too filled with good feelings and wine to protest his intimacy. His friends had made her feel welcome. And Tom had been so attentive.

She slid a glance at his strong profile and lost her footing on the uneven pavement. Tom steadied her, pulling her closer.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m perfectly fine.”

He chuckled.

Laughing, she freed herself and spread her arms, walking backwards to face him. “I had such fun tonight. Your friends are so funny. I haven’t laughed like that in years.”

She stopped suddenly. Tom almost collided with her. “Did you have a good time too?”

“Mary Beth,” he said, grasping her arms and smiling down at her. “I had a great time just being with you and watching you.”

He gathered her against him. The gentle warmth of the early summer night and his closeness dissipated the last of her resolve. She cushioned her head against his firm chest. His heart beat strong and steady against her cheek.

“You should let yourself have fun more often,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “You’re too serious. You were always too serious. When we were kids it was a challenge to make you laugh, but it was worth it.” His low, smooth voice slid over her like warm chocolate.

“You’re so cute,” she said, surprised at her boldness.

He threw back his head and laughed. “And I think you are very tired and have had just a little too much wine. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” she said. The wine had made her bold but she was far from drunk.

His hands bracketed her waist and he pushed her gently away. “Don’t tempt me,” he whispered, his gaze soft. “Let’s get you home. We both have to work tomorrow.”

Ignoring her soft moan of protest, he put his arm around her and guided her along the quiet street.

The minute Tom parked his car in front of her apartment house, Mary Beth unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the door handle. She had been way too forward, letting him hold her, telling him he was cute. She needed to get away before she made a complete fool of herself.

“Thanks for everything,” she said in the most polite voice she could manage. “You don’t need to get out of the car.”

“I’ll walk you to your door.” His firm voice brooked no argument.

He cupped her elbow, helping her along the brick pathway and up the steep stairs to the second floor.

“You got me safely home,” she said, leaning against her apartment door.

“I hope I didn’t keep you out too late.” He stroked his finger along her cheek. The dim light from the hall lamp cast an intimate glow over his sculpted features.

She studied him, the high cheekbones and straight nose, the deep blue eyes. No man had a right to be that wickedly handsome…to make her want him so badly.

Warning bells sounded in her head. She needed to escape. Fast.

She ran her tongue over her dry lips. Tom’s gaze fastened on her mouth.

The alarms rang louder, but she ignored them.

Reaching out a trembling hand, she ran a finger over his full, warm lips. His eyes darkened with a longing that made her want to draw closer. Scared of her own weakness, she backed away instead.

He pulled her to him. She floated on air, wrapped in a bubble of pleasure. He bent his head. She lifted her face, craving his touch. His slow, thorough kiss made her fears fly away.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her lips.

She twined her arms around his neck and leaned back to stare into his eyes. “I had such a good time tonight,” she whispered. “Why don’t you come in?”

He leaned his forehead against hers. “Sweetheart, it’s late.” He took deep breaths, then moved back to cup her face. “I want you, Mary Beth, but not like this, when you’ve been drinking.”

Humiliation swirled through her. She’d let her guard down and enjoyed a magical evening, one she didn’t want to end. She’d offered herself to him, and he’d rejected her. Again. Apparently he couldn’t wait to get away from her.

She reached down to grab the purse she had dropped and fumbled in it for her keys. She let out a cry of frustration when she failed to find them.

“Mary Beth.” He grabbed her shoulders. She twisted her head away from him.

“No. Look at me, Cat Eyes.” He took her chin between his fingers and tilted her face until their eyes met. “I must be crazy,” he said, shaking his head, “but it’s best if I go now.”

He took her purse and reached in to extricate the keys, then handed her the bag and unlocked the door. It swung open at his touch.

She turned, eager to escape into the sanctuary of her apartment.

He pulled her gently around to face him and traced his thumb along her bottom lip. “I had a great time tonight, Cat Eyes.”

CHAPTER SIX

T
hump
! The heavy weight landing on Mary Beth’s chest woke her with the force of an electric current. Heart palpitating wildly, she gasped and opened her eyes to bright sunlight and Missy’s furry face inches from hers.

The cat wailed a loud “feed me” cry. Pushing her pet gently aside, Mary Beth turned to look at the bedside clock. She groaned as pain, like tiny meat cleavers, stabbed her head.

“Oh, God,” she said, settling back on the pillow. Her mouth was dry and fuzzy-feeling and she would gladly chop off her head to relieve the agony. She was due at work an hour ago. And it seemed as if she’d only just fallen asleep.

“Oh, God,” she moaned again as last night came rushing back to her. Tom. She’d thrown herself at him. Again. And he’d rejected her. Again. Only this time others didn’t watch, cheering.

Anger at herself and embarrassment had given her a restless night. She pressed a hand to her queasy stomach and took deep breaths.

The shrill ringing of the phone made her jump. The knives in her head sliced harder.

The answering machine in the living room clicked on. “Mary Beth, are you there?” Tom’s voice—loud, urgent—made her wince.

“Pick up right now or I’m coming over.”

Tom here? No way, her addled brain cried. Gingerly, with an unsteady hand, she reached for the phone next to the bed.

“Yes?” she rasped.

“Are you all right? Gail’s been calling you. She’s worried sick. So am I.”

Mary Beth clutched the receiver and lay back on the bed, trying to ignore the warmth that flooded her at the concern and relief in Tom’s voice.

“I-I’m fine,” she whispered.

“You don’t sound fine,” he said. “I’m coming over.”

“No!” Sharp pain shot through her head. “Really, I’m okay. I have a wicked headache. I ate too much at the festival and I had trouble sleeping.”

“Are you sure it was the food that kept you awake?” he asked softly.

No, it’s total humiliation.

“Too much wine can make for a wicked next day,” he said with a chuckle.

She ignored his good-natured taunt. “Tell-tell Gail I’ll call her. I have to go now.” She replaced the receiver on the cradle, threw the bed covers aside, and ran to the bathroom on shaky legs.

With her stomach under some semblance of control, Mary Beth fed Missy and gave Gail a call. A long, hot shower and three extra-strength aspirin reduced her headache to a dull pounding.

She dressed quickly in loose-fitting black pants and a white T-shirt. She tried to concentrate on the routine tasks, but the memory of last night kept repeating on her like a continuously playing movie. Everything had gone so well. Why did she invite him in, setting up her own rejection? Living with stress for so long had rendered her temporarily insane, making her fling herself at the first hunk to come along.

She brushed out her hair and began braiding it, staring at her pale reflection in the mirror. Who was she fooling? Tom meant more to her than just a gorgeous guy. A lot more.

Maybe she should make love with him and dissolve twelve years of longing and wondering from her system. But she knew in her gut that making love with Tom would only sharpen her need for him.

No! That line of thinking had to stop. The true Tom had emerged that night at the formal, shattering her dreams and locking her heart in an icy cage.

A small kernel of doubt took seed in her mind. Mixed with her humiliation was the knowledge that Tom had been considerate of her all last evening, making sure she had a good time, attentive to her in front of his friends. And he’d refused to take advantage of her weakened state. Honorable in every way.

Maybe Tom was right. She should let go of the past. Start seeing him in a new light.

Anxiety made her shiver. Once she ceased being a challenge to him, he’d go back to his own kind, like before. Images of Tom disappearing into Taylor’s arms came unbidden, making her stomach churn anew.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She was financially dependent on Tom for now. Until she controlled her own finances again, she couldn’t allow herself to be involved with any man, especially Tom. Unlike her mother, she would make her own way in the world.

From now on she’d be more careful around Tom.

<><><>

“Very cool,” Gail said.

“Very ‘Titans of Industry,’” Mary Beth said, following Gail’s gaze around the spacious, luxurious boardroom of Sackett Industries.

Chairs, richly upholstered in cream and hunter green, surrounded the huge mahogany table that dominated the room. Old money whispered from the crown molding, brass chandeliers, and paintings by Andrew and Jamie Wyeth that adorned dark green walls.

Secretaries scurried in and out, setting packets at each place in preparation for the quarterly directors’ meeting. Mary Beth and Gail were catering breakfast and lunch for the Sackett directors and visiting foreign plant managers.