Asking for Trouble (12 page)

The last thing she heard as she walked out the door was Tom’s irritated voice. “Go to hell? Go to hell? I thought this was hell!”

R
EX SWANN SAT STARING
at Sydney in astonishment and disbelief.

“The police handcuffed you and took you to jail?” he asked.

Sydney nodded.

He turned to look up at Tom, whose expression was attentive but guarded.

“Tom. Tell me the two of you made this up. Tell me it didn’t really happen,” Rex said, his comic incredulity and amazement causing the audience to howl with laughter.

Tom chuckled in his good-natured way and shrugged helplessly. “Every word of it is true, Rex. It was a date unlike any other—and one I won’t soon forget.”

The audience roared, and for the first time in her life, Sydney wished she could die. She would have gladly embraced it, in fact, had the crowd and Rex Swann known the whole truth.

Between the two of them, she and Tom had told the major events of their date, omitting such minor details as her reaction to being stuck in the elevator and her subsequent indulgence with Jerry’s flask; her vomiting at the sight of Tom’s blood; her irrational behavior at the hospital; and the hurtful accusations at the police station. Despite the apprehensions she’d had before the taping began, Tom had very kindly refrained from mentioning her phobic illness—which dismayed and confused her all the more.

Shame and remorse had become her constant companions in the two weeks following their disastrous date. She hadn’t gotten back to her apartment that morning before she realized what she’d done. Bewildered and hurt, she had allowed her fear to take control and had denied Tom his one request—an understanding of his profession. To top it off, her imagination had conjured up an image of Tom in a rage, thirsty for revenge. Yet he had allowed his best opportunity to punish her go by without the slightest slur against her. Not only had she hurt him, she had misjudged him, she realized now. She felt lower than low.

“Obviously you weren’t sent to prison,” she heard Rex Swann speaking to Tom. “Or we’d be having this discussion from behind bars. Although it seems as if that’s the way this date should have ended.” He paused to let the audience enjoy his humor. “Tell us how the date did end.”

“The police were quick to realize that there’d been a misunderstanding, and we were released,” Tom said simply.

Sydney felt like worm spit.

“Did you try to continue the date after that?” Rex asked.

“No. Ah ... we were both pretty tired,” Tom said with a small smile. “Calling an end to the evening seemed like the best thing to do.”

Rex turned to Sydney with sympathy etched on his face.

“I’m speechless,” he said. But he didn’t hesitate to continue. “That has to have been the world’s worst date. Was there any romance at all?”

She glanced at Tom and back to Rex before answering. “Yes. Some.”

“Well, quickly tell us about that,” he said eagerly.

“We ... um ... we talked quite a bit and got to know each other pretty well.”

“Any kissing? Any good stuff?”

“Yes. Some.”

“Any sparks there?” He sounded hopeful. “Did this date have any redeeming qualities?”

“Yes. Some.”

“Yes, some what? Sparks or redeeming qualities?”

Again she looked up at Tom. “Both,” she said.

“Ah-ha! So it wasn’t a complete bust. Would you like to see who the audience voted to be your date?” he asked.

She didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Stills of the three videos she’d had to choose from were displayed somewhere for the television audience, and a tally was run with the number of votes showing up in each picture on the monitor in the studio.

“Oh, look. The audience chose Tom too.” Rex grinned at her. “If you’d like to live dangerously and ask Tom out again, well pay for the date. If not, you’re on your own.”

There would be no sleeping or eating for Sydney until she was alone with Tom one last time. She didn’t think she could bear to go out on another date with him, but continuing the way she had for the two weeks she’d spent obsessing about him would be far worse.

He’d consumed her every thought. Food lost its flavor and lay heavily in her midsection, as if she’d swallowed an anvil. Her nights were restless and plagued with dreams of his kisses, his touch, and the twinkle of humor in his eyes. She had to see him one more time. She needed to make peace with him, or he’d haunt her for the rest of her days.

“We, ah, wouldn’t have to come back and talk about it, would we?” she asked, before she acted on the impulse that was teasing her brain. Over Rex’s shoulder, she saw Tom’s confusion. Plainly, he had expected her to scream hysterically at the very suggestion of a second date with him.

“No. Not if you didn’t want to. Although I’d personally love to hear how a second date between the two of you turned out,” Rex said, encouraging the people in the studio to agree with him. Which they did readily.

“Well, if it’s okay with Tom, I would like to see him again,” she said bravely, all too aware that he might refuse to have anything to do with her.

This was his chance to humiliate her on national television and get even with her for embarrassing him at the police station. This was his opportunity to snub her and hurt her. This was his opening to show a complete lack of understanding and compassion that was as great as her own.

“I’m game,” Tom said, deftly hiding his bewilderment from those who didn’t know him as well as Sydney did.

The crowd let out a whoop that very nearly drowned out Rex’s amplified approval. “That’s the spirit,” he said. “Come on out here, Tom.”

The screen behind Rex went blank while both he and Sydney stood in anticipation of Tom’s appearance on stage. Of course, Rex’s anticipation was well rehearsed and a part of every show he did. Sydney’s felt more like a riot in the pit of her stomach, threatening a total revolt at any moment.

Tom stepped from behind the false wall onto the stage and shook hands with Rex before approaching her. As she’d been the first time she’d seen him, Sydney was struck by how much more lifelike he was in person than on the video screen—bigger than life, actually.

A camera wasn’t capable of capturing the magnitude of the man. It couldn’t reveal his appeal. The dignity in his shoulders or the integrity in the way he held his head. It missed the way he bent to hear all that Rex was saying, as if there were a value to each word spoken to him. It couldn’t catch the fluid step and easy carriage that made him seem so open and approachable. Or the astute light in his eyes that gave away his intelligence and understanding. A camera couldn’t see all the dimensions of the man, couldn’t give the man’s picture his spirit. But Sydney saw it. And she could feel it. Maybe that was why she couldn’t meet his gaze directly.

There was a brief, awkward hug between them, though neither one was inclined to show affection for the other. But it seemed expected—if for no other reason than to show their good sportsmanship.

In an unspoken, mutual agreement they reserved any personal discussion until after Rex Swann had wished them better luck on their next date, asked them to keep in touch, and then prepared the studio and television audiences for a commercial break.

A small swarm of employees gathered about Rex to powder his nose and brief him on the next segment of the program, while the young man in the headset motioned Tom and Sydney off the stage.

“That was great, folks. Really great,” he said, handing Sydney a sealed envelope. Looking at her more directly, he added, “No wonder you didn’t want to go on. I’d want to forget the whole thing ever happened too.”

Neither contestant commented.

Sydney felt as if she were a robot. She walked. She talked. She smiled. There were thoughts in her head, but none of them had anything to do with her actions. She signed the voucher, shook hands with the young man in the headphones, and said good-bye before it occurred to her that she shouldn’t be taking the money. She had no intention of going out on another date with Tom.

“I, no, oh, wait,” she called to the young man, waving the white envelope. He walked around a corner and didn’t see or hear her. “Nuts.”

“What?”

In another involuntary movement she looked at Tom and abruptly realized that they were alone.

For a man who had mastered the art of hiding most of his fears and concerns, he was a bust at masking his anger. Where his eyes had once held the warmth and happiness of a summer sky, they now held the cold, chilling bleakness of winter.

“I, ah, I shouldn’t have signed for this money. I shouldn’t have taken it,” she said, faltering, her breath coming in short anxious bursts.

“Why not? You shouldn’t pay for a date you don’t want,” he said. Again, she looked into his features to find the gentle, laughing man she’d come to know and care for, the man she’d hurt—but he wasn’t there.

“I am right, aren’t I?” he asked, although it wasn’t really a question. “What was that out there? An act to show the world that in spite of the fact that we had the world’s worst first date, you still think I’m someone worth dating? Some pretense to spare me embarrassment? Or have you changed your mind about what I do for a living?”

“No. I ... it’s not that. I needed to talk with you.”

She’d dialed his home number a hundred times in the previous two weeks, only to hang up before the connection was made. Just as many times she’d hoped to bump into him somewhere. She’d needed to talk to him so badly, so many times. And now that she could, the words she’d prepared and practiced seemed dull and inadequate.

“I did want to see you again,” Sydney finally said.

“On a date?” He was stunned.

“No. But I wasn’t sure what would happen if I said I didn’t want to go out with you a second time. I mean, I didn’t know if you’d leave the studio and I’d never see you again, or if we’d have another opportunity to talk. I ... I’ve been wanting to apologize to you.”

“For what?” His angry tone didn’t waver. It was as if she’d committed so many crimes against him, he wasn’t sure which she was referring to.

“For the way I behaved at the police station. For not understanding about your profession. I ... it was the one thing you asked for on your video, understanding, and ... I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”

Lips that she knew could be outstandingly kissable, that could transport her to a land of cloud castles and knights on white steeds, were hard and unforgiving as they parted and then came together again determinedly.

“We do need to talk,” he said thoughtfully. His voice was quieter but still brittle and tight with his ire. He wasn’t about to give her amnesty. Not yet anyway. Nor could he afford to allow himself to feel hope. She wasn’t exactly throwing herself into his arms.

The envelope in her hands caught her attention. She held it up to him. “I could buy us both a fifty-dollar cup of coffee,” she said, lamely trying to lighten the atmosphere between them.

He eyed the envelope for a second or two and then shook his head as he took it from her.

“Dinner. Tonight. After our first date, we owe ourselves a last date, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, Tom,” she hesitated. “Do you really think that’s such a good idea? Aside from our personal differences, the gods don’t seem to like us much.” A soft, nervous laugh escaped her. “In fact, I think they’re out to get us.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

She shrugged. She wasn’t sure what she believed anymore.

“It seems as logical as everything else I’ve been thinking lately,” she admitted, knowing instinctively that despite his anger and all that had passed between them, she could still trust him with her thoughts and emotions. “I’m really confused.”

“Good,” he said, more pleased with her bewilderment than with her apology. “Tonight at seven, then. I’ll pick you up. Home or office?”

“Home,” she said, and then hastily added, “But I could meet you somewhere.”

“Too complicated. We tried that the first time, remember?”

“Having you pick me up didn’t work out too well either.”

“Didn’t it?” His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her, then he quickly glanced at his watch. “Look,” he said, in an immediate hurry. “I have to go. Be ready at seven and—well work it out then. Dress casual.”

“My address—”

“I’ve driven past your apartment building a hundred times in the past two weeks. I know your address by heart.” He started to walk away. But before he’d gotten very far, he turned and retraced the six or eight steps between them.

“The last time we said good-bye, we forgot this part,” he said, as he cupped her face with his hands and settled his mouth on hers.

He gave her a pent-up kiss. One he’d been saving for two weeks. Hard, long, and deep, it was a kiss that had had time to ripen and mature. Its flavor was enhanced with passion and need, tangy with its demands. After her initial surprise, Sydney began to savor the kiss, tasting and relishing with gusto, until she grew weak.

“I felt cheated out of that,” he said, his voice raspy, his lips still close to hers. She nodded her agreement.

By the time she could force her eyes to open, he was halfway to the exit. He passed Judy in the hall, and she turned to watch him walk away.

“Well, he left grinning, so he can’t hate you all that much,” Judy said, approaching Sydney with an appraising eye. “So how come you don’t look any happier?”

“He’s picking me up at seven o’clock tonight. We’re going out again.”

“That’s great!” She took a second look at Sydney. “That is great, isn’t it?”

“Ask me tomorrow ... if I live through it.”

I
N WHAT SEEMED TO
Sydney like only ten minutes, it was seven o’clock. The first time she’d waited for Tom to arrive, the minutes had crawled by. This time, they were whizzing through space like bullets, coming closer and closer to the fatal moment when he would ring her doorbell.

She’d been dreading that moment all afternoon. The more she thought about it, the more she wished she hadn’t agreed to go out with him. She simply should have apologized for embarrassing him at the police station and for hurting his feelings, she told herself as she fine-tuned her makeup.