Hot Flash (31 page)

Susan looked at me in surprise. “Oh. My. God. You have a thing for Stephen’s teacher!”

“Shh! Everyone will hear you.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“I’m not confirming it, either. Just keep your voice down.”

“What happened to your Salesman Plan?”

“Nothing happened to it. I haven’t met the right salesman.” I wasn’t about to admit that I’d given up on it, mainly because I wasn’t about to admit to her or
myself
that there was anything between Davin Wesley and me.

Wesley was totally wrong for me, even if I wasn’t going to look for more salesmen. He doesn’t travel. He’s as poor as I am. He’s a control freak. Worst of all, he expects me to talk to him. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a mature guy who is gone a lot, gives me lots of space, and doesn’t expect anything more than periodic sexual gymnastics while handing me his paychecks.

I expected her to argue with me some more, but she was silent. I looked at her image in the mirror and she had gone totally pale.

“What’s wrong?”

“Contractions. Braxton Hicks.”

“False labor? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Just give me a minute.”

There was a chair near the mirrors, so I led her over to it. “I’ve got a bottle of water in the dressing room. I’ll be right back.”

I dashed to the changing room, grabbed the bottle of water, and then ran out to Susan.

She’d regained a little of her color and a saleswoman was chatting with her. I unscrewed the cap on the water bottle and held it out to her. She took a sip.

“I think I got overheated from trying on clothes. I’m better now.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I just need to sit for a few minutes. Why don’t you go put the blue dress back on?”

“Nah. I’ll change clothes. I don’t need to try it on again.”

The saleswoman reassured me she’d stay with Susan until I came back out, so I agreed. A few minutes later I was wearing my own jeans and carrying the affordable blue dress, having left the silver evening gown in the changing room.

Susan looked like herself again. “Are you buying the blue one or do you want to try on some other dresses?”

“I’m getting this one.” The saleswoman took it from me, saying she’d take it to the register.

“What about you?” I asked. “Are you getting that outfit or is it too hot?”

“I think I overdid it a little today.” She looked toward the mirrors. “I doubt I’ll find anything that’ll make me look like a size six and this seems practical.”

Once Susan had changed and we paid for our dresses, I was still worried about her as we made our way to the Animal. “Are you doing okay? Want me to take you to the hospital, or maybe we should call your doctor?”

“I’m perfectly fine.” Susan peeked into my bag. “I really like this blue formal on you.”

“The more I think about it, the more I like it and my budget loves it.”

We reached my car and I opened Susan’s door. As she lumbered in, she said, “That reminds me, have you been to the student loan Web site I told you about?”

“Not yet.” I made my way to the driver’s door, andthen got inside. “The idea of repaying the loans seems scary. But I need to do something since Stephen isn’t likely to qualify for a scholarship.”

“You never know. You need to fill out the forms because he might even qualify for a grant.”

Like they’re anxious to give grants and scholarships to low-scoring art students who speak French?

I love tuxedos. They transform the men wearing them. The right tuxedo can take a beer-swilling couch potato and turn him into a man of industry. The right tuxedo can take a construction worker and give him an air of sophistication. The right tuxedo can take a third-grade teacher and turn him into a total hottie. If the clothes make the man, then the tuxedo made a sex symbol out of Wesley. Wow.

At least that’s the first idea that struck me as I ogled him. Davin was attired in a gorgeous black tux with a snappy blue cummerbund. (He’d called to ask my dress color so he could coordinate with me.)

He must have liked my dress, too, because he emitted a low whistle. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks. Come on in.” I held the door open for him. “Stephen’s almost ready, but I think he’s having problems with his tie.”

“This is for you.” Davin handed me a florist’s box.

“I told you this isn’t a date. You didn’t have to do this.” I opened the box and found a wrist corsage made of white roses with blue ribbons. He didn’t have to do it, but it sure was nice of him. “It’s lovely.”

“Glad you like it. I’ll go help Stephen with his tie.”

“Thanks.” I slipped the corsage on my wrist as Davin tapped on Stephen’s door.

“Need a little help?”

“I think I need a lot of help,” said Stephen, pulling open his door, then coming out into the hall. “Every time I clip the ends together, it falls apart.”

“Tuxedo ties are difficult.” I watched down the hall as Davin took the tie from Stephen, made an adjustment on the neck, then handed it back to him. “Try it now.”

Stephen slipped it on and Davin snapped the ends together. This time it didn’t droop open.

“All set?” Davin returned to the living room, with Stephen following behind.

“You look very handsome tonight, Stephen.” How could my toddler grow into a poised young man so quickly?

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Being in the presence of all this male beauty has made my mouth go dry,” I said, wiping a little moisture from my brow. “Let me grab a sip of water before we leave.”

I headed to the kitchen and noticed the mail that had come for Stephen. “Stephen, there’s a letter for you on the kitchen bar.”

I grabbed a quick drink of water, with lots of ice cubes, hoping it would cool my libido. Down, libido, down. Even if I was willing to repeat our back seat gymnastics, which of course I wasn’t, I sure didn’t want to dwell on the idea in front of my kid, no matter how much he’d grown.

The cool water did the trick and I felt in control again. I joined the menfolk in the living room. “I’m ready now.”

Stephen was just folding his letter and sticking it in his pocket.
“Tres bien
.”

Davin, at his most gallant, opened the door for us. “Your pumpkin awaits.”

“Sacre bleu
,” cried Stephen. “We’re not going in the Animal, are we?”

“We’re taking my car,” replied Davin, who turned and gave me a significant lift of one eyebrow.

I knew what he was thinking about. Heat crept up my neck to my face, which had to be as red as an overripe beefsteak tomato. The last time I was seated in his Mustang, it had been the scene of our sexual hijinks. Now I had to ride in it with my son and in a formal gown.

I kept my lips sealed tightly, hoping I’d get through the drive with the few shreds of my dignity remaining.

That was when Stephen looked at me. “Why are you blushing, Mom?”

“I’m not blushing.”

Davin grinned. “I’d say you are.”

“Must be a hot flash.” I fanned my face.

Stephen kept his eye on me. “Must be really hot.”

Oh, it was. But I wasn’t thinking about menopause.

Entering my workplace as a guest, rather than an employee, was a pleasurable experience. The Grand Ballroom at La Papillon had been elegantly decorated, from tasteful flower arrangements, to the lace and teal table coverings. When I glanced over the buffet offerings, my heart swelled with pride. It looked mouthwatering.

Stephen headed toward a group of teens near the punch, while Davin and I scoped out the ballroom. As we passed by, I waved at the cook who had meat-serving duties, then Davin and I looked for my mother.

“Oh, there you are, Jill.” Mom looked fabulous in a beautiful white lace gown. It had a dipping neckline and reminded me of Southern belles, magnolias, and the Old South. “There are so many men, dear, who are dying to meet you,” she said, all the while eyeing my escort.

“Mom, I’d like you to meet Davin Wesley. He was Stephen’s third-grade teacher.”

“What a pleasure to meet you.” As they shook hands, my mom looked at me in confusion.

I knew what she was thinking, and I didn’t put her out of her misery. She was thinking that she had told me I didn’t need a date. Hah. It didn’t matter how many of her friends’ sons littered the ballroom, I wasn’t going to mingle with any of them. Without a doubt, there would be something unsuitable about each one. Guaranteed. Which is why I brought Davin.

“Let me introduce you to Wilhelmina’s son, Victor. He’s a successful architect.”

“Um, Mom? You don’t need to introduce me to any men. Davin’s my date.”

I had forgotten Davin’s grating personality. He piped up, “I thought I was merely your
escort
.”

I stepped on his instep with the pointy heel of my shoe. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you’re my date.”

I rather enjoyed the pained expression on his face as I turned back to Mom.

“But what about all these men?”

“You can introduce them to Mandy or Connie. Are either of them here yet?”

Mom frowned. “They’re both here and both have dates. What am I going to do with all these men?”

“They’re adults. If they get bored, they can leave.”

Mom smiled. “Of course you’re right.” Her attention was distracted. “Oh, look. There’s Harvey and his wife, Jean. I’d better go greet them.”

Mom dashed off to do her social thing, stranding me with Davin.

“I thought you said I was just your escort.”

“That’s exactly right.”

“So why did you tell your mother I’m your date?”

“Because otherwise she’d insist on introducing me to every single man in the room, no matter how ineligible.”

“In that case, if you need to use me further, I’ll be over by the punch bowl with Stephen.” Davin walked off. I frowned. Maybe he stalked off? I decided that at the very least it was a pouty walk.

I hadn’t intended to hurt his feelings. Unfortunately for my conscience, he was dead-on about me using him. That’s what I’d blatantly done, all because I didn’t want to admit, even to myself, that I did want his company. Being with him made me feel more alive, more interesting, and most definitely more sexy.

I considered following him, but thought better of it. He wasn’t happy with me, deservedly so, and could use some cooling-off time before I approached him again.

A cloud of discontent settled over me as I searched for Connie and Mandy, wondering who they’d each brought. I stumbled into Mandy first. Literally stumbled.

“Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to …” I trailed off when I saw the woman whose foot I’d stepped on. “Hey, Mandy!”

“Great party,” she said.

I glanced beside her to check out her date.

Up until now, I haven’t mentioned the fact that I’m not an only child.

Yes, I have a brother, Gerry, although now he goes by Gerald.

I don’t mention him because he’s a total weasel, in the fullest sense of the word:
weasel-est
. He’s also dry and very, very boring and only wants to talk computer-speak. If you had a brother like him, you wouldn’t admit it, either.

I looked back at Mandy and pointed at Gerald. “You’re not here with
him?!”

Mandy nodded happily. “You didn’t tell me your brother writes software. In fact, you didn’t tell me you had a brother at all.”

I couldn’t believe it. How had she met my brother? Then it dawned on me. “Did my mother introduce you?”

Again, Mandy nodded happily. She looked at my brother with the look of a woman who was completely infatuated. I wanted to barf.

“I’m going to kill her,” I muttered. I’d warned Mom not to introduce Weasel-Breath to any of my friends. Ever.

“Nice to see you, Sis,” he said.

“You, too,” I replied. “How’s work? Written any good computer viruses lately?”

“I’ve told you, I don’t write them.” He smiled at Mandy. “I write the code that kills them.”

Mandy gazed at him with a look mixed of awe and adoration. Gag. Gag. Gag.

Just then, my son and the-teacher-who-annoyed-me strolled up. Stephen said, “Hey, Uncle Gerald.”

Davin pulled me aside and whispered, “You have a sibling?”

“Don’t mind Gerald. He’s the family dweeb.”

“Have any others I don’t know about?”

“Just the one too many.”