Winning Appeal (3 page)

Beth

6:00 PM

When I got to the pub, I saw that the others had found a couple of tables in a corner and pushed them together. I walked over and saw a seat across from Mark. At least I would have a nice view. I pulled the chair out carefully and made sure there were no full cups of beer anywhere near me.

“About the art museum thing,” Braden said as I sat down. “Mark’s free to go with you tomorrow if you want.” I froze. If I wanted? He was kidding, right?

“You don’t mind?” I asked Mark, swallowing hard. “I don’t want to impose. I mean, if you had plans.”

“No imposition, it would be my pleasure,” he answered quickly and took a big swallow of his beer. I saw Adam give him an amused look.

“I know that I can trust Mark,” Braden said. “And that neither one of you would do anything in public that would create gossip.”

“But we can have sex in the limo on the way there, right?” I joked and Mark almost choked. At least I made Adam laugh.

“The tabloids are always lurking around at those things,” Gab said.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like they’ll be rolling around on the floor together. Oh wait,” Adam joked as Mark glared at him.

“Well, as for the details,” I said, ignoring him and speaking to Mark. “It’s black tie and it starts at seven. I have a car coming, so you can just meet me at my place at about quarter of. Like Lily mentioned, the theme is Old Hollywood.”

“Do they all have a theme?” Lily asked.

“Most do. It’s how they make these things seem more like a fun evening, and less like hitting people up for money,” I explained as I caught myself peeling the label off my beer bottle, distractedly. I couldn’t seem to keep my hands still. “There’s one coming up soon where everyone stays at a mansion for the weekend. You play a famous detective and try to solve a crime. I was thinking that you might enjoy that, Gab.”

“Oh my God! I would love that!” she beamed. “Braden, let’s go! In fact, we should all go!”

“Thanks, Beth,” Cameron said as he and Jess lifted their beers in a toast to me.

“Any of them have an underground sex party theme?” Adam asked. “Mark has the perfect outfit.” Poor Mark would never live down the night that Gabrielle convinced him to take part in one of her crazy plans.

“It’s not like I’m going to kill you. Oh wait…” Mark responded.

9:00 PM

I couldn’t believe I was home alone at 9:00 on a Friday night. Well, not completely alone. I was doggie sitting, so that Braden and Gabrielle could go out together. Still, I was an uncoupled twenty-six year-old woman spending my Friday night with a Chihuahua. Braden was right. There was something wrong with that.

I stood there in a smock, preparing to paint a picture of a street performer from a photo I had taken. According to my artistic vision, he was purple. As I paused and mixed my palate, I wondered what, or who, Mark was doing at that moment. I was an open-minded person, and so that kind of thing had never really bothered me. Ironically, despite my attitude, casual hook-ups were something very hard for me to indulge in myself. Senator’s sons ‘sowed their wild oats,’ while senator’s daughters created scandals.

“So Bruno, here’s the story.” Hearing his name, the tiny dog paused and pricked up his enormous Chihuahua ears. “I’ve got a ‘thing’ for your Daddy’s friend, Mark. And I even happen to suspect, that he likes me too. But it’s complicated. And so, he’s probably out having sex with a stranger, and I’m here talking to a dog.” Bruno yipped. He got it.

As I slid under the covers with a book, later that night, Bruno begged to get into bed with me. “Do Gabrielle and Braden let you sleep with them?” I asked. Great, now I was not only talking to a dog, I was asking him questions. He just whined and gave me a sad little stare.

Oh well, I wasn’t sleeping with anyone else. I scooped him up and put him down next to me. And so I lay there, at midnight on a Friday night, trying to fall asleep with a tiny Chihuahua poking me in the ribs. Something had to change. Before I dozed off I wondered again where Mark would be sleeping that night.

Mark

11:00 PM

I had never had a problem finding female companionship. Usually, I only had to be at a club or a bar for fifteen minutes or so before I was heading off to a hotel or some chick’s apartment. Occasionally I brought one back to my place, but I usually liked to keep my private space private. Of course, I wouldn’t mind if Beth… Okay, don’t think about Beth, Mark.

I hit a local bar that was trendy at the moment, and when I arrived, I was determined that I was going to find a companion who would keep me busy all night. As I sat there, nursing a beer, I told myself that I needed to get it out of my system, so that I could behave at the fundraiser the following evening with a minimum of discomfort. Until I was ready to make some kind of serious move, I had to be on my best behavior with Beth. Okay, thinking about Beth again, dude. I looked at my watch. I had already been there an hour. It was time to get off the fence and into bed.

I smiled at the blonde across the bar that had been eyeing me up like a hungry dog eyeing up a steak dinner. Not that I was calling myself a hunk of meat. My brain worked just fine when all the blood hadn’t rushed to parts further down. And I wasn’t calling her a dog either. First of all, I wouldn’t do that, because I’m not twelve, or an asshole, and secondly, she was pretty hot. Forget the whole dog and steak analogy. She was eyeing me up like a chick in a bar who was Jack and Coke horny and had spotted a hot prospect.

I’m no expert, but I could tell she probably hadn’t entered the world with that hair color, and her tits were a little too Goodyear-like to be gifts from God, but who was I to judge? I was considering having a relationship of an extremely short duration with her. Well, not
extremely
short. I would give her a good workout first. Like I said, I wanted to get it out of my system, and I’m also a gentleman after all.

A gentleman… “
For Christ’s sake be a gentleman, Mark
… ” I sighed. And of course, now, I was thinking about Beth again. Why was I thinking at all? I wasn’t here to think. The blood could rush out of my brain at will in this place. In fact, I had probably lost a few IQ points the minute I walked through the door. I knew that I might as well just pack it in. Sorry, Miss Potential Hook-Up, this wasn’t your lucky night. Even in a totally dark room, I would know you weren’t her and she’s the one I want.

I tossed some cash down on the bar, and got up to go. The blonde got a confused look on her face, but then, that might have been her natural expression. I had first noticed her pushing like hell at the ladies room door. It had a sign on it that said, “Pull.”

Looked like it would be another Friday night of video games and self-love. Those two things formed the basis of my social life these days. It wasn’t always like that, though…

This time last year all three of us were still out playing every weekend, even Braden; although both Adam and I sensed he was going down at any moment. He was more than just a little interested in having Gabrielle examine his briefs, even though he knew it would mean more than a one-night investment. He was always talking about her, and staring off into space. He might as well have had those little hearts in his eyes like Pepe Le Pew. Still, it did take him a while.

But then, one night, it happened; he decided he was just “going home” from a club… alone. He hadn’t even gotten any on-location action. He was just going home alone, like Adam started doing a few months later… and like I had been for the past few weeks. I knew the signs. I was going down. Still, I walked out the door with no regrets. I was kind of tired anyway.

I looked up and there she was, the beauty who had stolen my heart long ago… a fully restored, silver 1971 Karmann Ghia. I called her Heidi, like Heidi Klum, hot German, get it? In case you were unaware, the Karmann Ghia is the ultimate badass hipster’s ride. They just don’t make them that cool anymore.

“Hey baby, I need to be inside you right now,” I joked as I deactivated the alarm. Great, I was talking to a car, like freaking Knight Rider. I had officially gone around the bend. It had to be lack of sex. Why wasn’t I back there with the blonde again? Oh right, I was nuts. As I strapped myself in and hit the ignition I wondered briefly where Beth was at the moment and who she was with.

1:00 AM

Later that night, I lay in bed thinking. I hadn’t hooked up in almost a month. I hadn’t gone that long without getting laid since I was in high school. Sex had always been just a release of tension and a way to feel good. It had never mattered who I was with before, as long as I found her physically attractive, willing, disease-free and not obviously unstable in any way. You had to watch out for the ones who seemed like they might be fun that night, but listening to Madame Butterfly, and boiling your bunny the next day.

Things had changed, though. I knew that I wasn’t going to be interested in anyone else anytime soon, and I had started talking to a car. I wasn’t going to make it that
much longer. So was I planning to make a move? Yeah, I guess I was. Braden
had
to tell me that bit about her comment to her friend, didn’t he? Picturing
her
, fantasizing about
me
officially did me in. There was no going back after that. He said, “Just do it right,” but what did that
mean
? Where was the rulebook on this kind of shit?

Maybe she and I could ease into dating. I could just keep taking her to these fundraisers, like practice dating, with no expectations and no pressure. And in the meanwhile, I could find out what the rules were. There you go, just go slowly. That was a plan. Good thinking Mark. Okay, thinking about Beth again…

Saturda
y
12:30 PM

“
So you went home alone again,” Adam said, squeezing some lemon into his iced tea. We had gone out to grab lunch at a local Italian place.

“Can you die from sexual frustration?” I poured some dressing on my antipasto and signaled the waitress for more water.

“You’re not going to die, but you might get carpal tunnel. You can’t go on like this anymore. You won. You were the last man standing. Now, give up and date the woman already.”

“I’m twenty-eight, not twenty-one. I see how happy you guys are.”

“So, what’s the problem? You’re not worried she’ll shoot you down, are you? It doesn’t sound like she has really high standards.” He laughed.

“The problem is that I’m flying blind. Women have all these rules when it comes to that shit and I’ve never had an interest in riding that rollercoaster before.”

“If you’re that worried about it, just start off quietly until you get used to it.”

“Oh yeah, just don’t mention it. Because Braden would be so grateful that I spared him any awkwardness by dating his sister behind his back.”

“It wouldn’t exactly be a shock if he found out. Don’t you remember yesterday’s conversation? He knows.
Everybody
knows, man. The cleaning lady asked me if the two of you had gotten together yet, and she barely speaks English.”

“Yeah, I remember. He said, ‘just do it right.’ But what does that mean?”

“It means date her rather than just fucking her. Women have rules, but they’re subject to interpretation, and half of them don’t even follow them.”

“What if I forgot myself and accidentally put my hand on her ass at some public event? It’s like you said, it would probably wind up on Twitter and Braden would just
love
that.”

“So, don’t forget to only put your hand on her ass when you’re alone. What, were you raised by wolves? Just make sure you do everything by the code, man. Treat her like you plan to see her in the morning, that’s all. For example,
do
say something like, ‘I would love to spend the night with you.’ Do
not
say something like, ‘that was great, baby. Do you need cab fare?”

“Since you brought it up, how do you handle the afterwards? How long do you have to, you know, hold them?” God, it was freaking uncomfortable discussing this. It felt just like when my dad handed me a copy of
What a Boy Needs to Know
and asked me if I masturbated.

“You’ll figure it out. You’ll be surprised how naturally it comes when you’re motivated. And the rest is the standard stuff. Just stick to the code. If she’s on the pill by the way, you’ll finally know what you’ve been missing.”

“Stick to the code. I can do that.” I chewed thoughtfully.

“Good. Now, let’s talk about something else before I grow a vagina.”

Beth

Saturday 6:45 PM

I checked myself out in the mirror one last time. My blonde hair was tied back in a chignon and my diamond earrings matched my necklace. I had on evening make-up and five-inch heels. I was five foot eight barefoot, so in these shoes, I would be almost as tall as Mark was.

I turned around, admiring my white Elie Saab chiffon gown that tied at one shoulder. It had a gathered waist, and a light, flowing floor-length skirt, slit up one thigh. It showed off my long legs, which I thought were my best asset.

“Not too shabby, Beth,” I said with a smile. Great, now I was talking to myself. At least the Chihuahua was a separate living being. Maybe I should get a cat. Oh God, that was the first step toward being a crazy cat lady.

My buzzer rang and my confidence waivered even more, but I took a deep breath and reminded myself that he wanted me too. I crossed the room to the call box.

“Hello,” I said, pressing the intercom button.

“Hey, will you buzz me up?” Mark’s deep, rich voice made my tummy flutter even filtered through the speaker.

“Sure. I’ll see you in a minute.” I pushed the door lock button and waited nervously. I caught myself twisting my fingers together and I fisted them at my sides, which only served to make my palms sweaty. “What is wrong with you, Beth? You know how to keep your composure.” I paused. “And stop talking to yourself or people are going to wonder about you.”

My doorbell rang and I jumped. Rolling my eyes, and forcing myself to calm down, I went over to answer it. When I swung it open, my mouth went dry. Mark stood there in a tuxedo, looking positively wonderful.

His attention snapped to me when he heard the door open. I saw his eyes quickly travel up and down my body. Then a sexy smile slowly formed on his lips, and it felt like my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest. All I could think was, “Please don’t let me break out in hives.” And then, “You suck at romance, Beth.”

“Were you always this tall?” he asked, looking into my eyes, which were almost level with his. I got lost in the gray smoke for a moment.

“I’m wearing higher heels,” I mumbled. “Because there will be dancing. And I wanted our parts to line up well.” Then what I had just said sunk in, and I closed my eyes and felt my face get hot.
I wanted our parts to line up well?

“Uh, well, that’s always good I guess,” he said with a laugh. I opened my eyes again and forced a bright smile to cover up my humiliation.

“The car isn’t here yet,” I spit out quickly. “Come in, though, and make yourself comfortable.” I stepped to the side to give him room to pass, and then turned to close the door. I wanted to ask him what he thought of the place, and so I spun around quickly, sweeping my arm out, in a warm and expansive gesture of welcome.

Unfortunately, he had paused right behind me, which meant that I essentially punched him in the gut. His eyes watered a bit, but the smile never left his face.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Personally, I myself, wanted to crawl into a hole and die at that moment.

“I’m fine. No worries,” he replied sounding a little hoarse, as he backed away from me slowly. Again. I sighed, and resolved to do my best not to cause him any further injury. “This place is nice. I like bold color,” he said, looking around.

“Me too. Bold color is… good,” said the woman with a Masters degree in Art History from Vassar. “And bright color too… is good.” Have I mentioned my semester at the Sorbonne? He gave me a funny look. I can’t imagine why.

“Are you okay?” He sounded a little concerned, like he was wondering if I had sustained yet another head injury. I wanted to slit my wrists.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get a lot of sleep.” I walked over to the sofa and sat down. “I shared my bed last night.” I leapt back up to my feet. “With a Chihuahua!”

He gave me a surprised look, and suddenly, I was overcome with amusement at how ridiculous I sounded. I stopped talking and bit my lip, trying not to laugh. It didn’t work. I cracked up.

“What?” he asked. He was smiling, but now he was looking really confused and maybe a little afraid.

“I’m sorry… it’s just that… I’m usually so much cooler than this.” I choked out, holding my stomach. “I’ve never been so fucking awkward in my life.” I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe, but his reply was what actually took my breath away.

“First of all, never apologize for laughing. You’re even more beautiful when you laugh. Secondly, I’m kind of nervous myself.”

I stopped laughing and dry swallowed. Then, it was like there was something pulling us together, like we were magnetic. We began to move toward each other in a barely perceptible way, until the buzzer rang. The car had arrived. Damn.

When we got to the parking garage, Louis, the guy who usually drove me to these events was waiting. He worked for my father and he was trained in security. He held the door for us and Mark helped me into the back seat.

It was a short ride, and we were approaching the museum within minutes. I reached into my clutch bag and pulled out a mint, offering Mark one, and popping another into my mouth. After all, there was nothing more embarrassing than getting caught with bad breath. Remember that I said that, by the way.

“So, still up for the limo sex?” Mark joked.

I laughed in surprise, and accidentally sucked the mint into my throat, getting it lodged there. I started choking and making a gurgling sound, and Louis, who was also trained in CPR, immediately crossed three lanes of traffic, and illegally parked on a median in the middle of the Ben Franklin Parkway.

Mark was already attempting to apply the Heimlich maneuver, but Louis was having none of it. It was his job to save the senator’s daughter from the killer Altoid, and no one would stop him. He dove out of the driver’s seat, flew around to the back, and hauled me out of the car. Then he proceeded to stand behind me and squeeze my ribs so hard, that my feet left the ground.

Mark was out of the car in an instant. Unfortunately, the instant, in question, was the one where the mint became dislodged and flew out of my mouth, hitting him square in the eye like a torpedo. He cried out in pain and covered his face, staggering forward. Have I mentioned we were in the middle of the Ben Franklin Parkway? Horns blasted, and Louis, who was also trained to take a bullet if necessary, threw himself into traffic, grabbed Mark and tossed him onto the median, covering him with his own body.

All of this happened within seconds, but luckily, we were close enough to the museum that the waiting photographers, who had zoom lenses, were able to capture all of it for posterity. And the tabloids. And my brother.

Mark and I were in great shape considering that I had nearly choked, and probably had a few cracked ribs, and he had been thrown to the pavement and blinded in one eye. In an effort to reclaim some semblance of dignity, we got back into the car, and Louis proceeded to drive us to the museum as if nothing had happened. I was going to have to speak to my father about giving Louis a raise.

We arrived at the museum and entered the line of cars. A few minutes later, Mark was helping me out and we were being escorted off to an area where journalists and photographers were waiting.

“Ms. Pierce, are you injured?… Ms. Pierce, what was going on out there?… Ms. Pierce, is your driver a member of the Secret Service?…” And then…

“Who is this handsome man escorting you, Beth?” That one stopped me in my tracks. I turned and saw a female reporter, with a spray tan in a shade of Oompa Loompa orange, and hair the color of a brass doorknob, giving Mark a flirtatious look. Fucking tabloid journalist.

“This is Mark Patterson, a friend and colleague,” I muttered and smiled weakly.

“So Mark, are you and Beth an item?” asked the guy standing next to the Oompa. He had black hair, slicked down with more oil than in Venezuela, and he was wearing more bling than in the Tower of London. He also had a camera and a smarmy smile. Fucking paparazzo.

“Like she said, we’re friends and colleagues. I couldn’t let such a lovely lady attend a party alone. Nobody would pay attention to the celebrities,” Mark said suavely and the journalists all gave appreciative chuckles.

Wow. This man had just been wounded by a missile, plucked from traffic and crushed beneath a six foot five inch, two hundred and eighty pound chauffer. He had abrasions on his palms and his eye was starting to swell. Yet there he was, cracking jokes, grace under pressure. Fucking amazing.

We joined the reception, and as soon as we were inside, a passing waiter offered us champagne flutes. If ever there was a moment for alcohol this was it. I looked around and took everything in. There were actors dressed like old movie stars, mingling with the crowd. I saw Clark Gable and Marilyn Monroe right away. And there was Joan Crawford. Sorry, Bruce.

A steady stream of people approached us, making their circuit around the room. We spent time talking to representatives of non-profit organizations, local business owners and even a federal judge. I watched Mark charm them all like nothing had happened. He told them about our work and the cases we had won and I could hear how passionately he believed in what he did.

Just when everything was going really well, I saw a familiar face approaching and I sighed to myself. It was Caitlin Reynolds. We had grown up together. I didn’t have anything against Caitlin, but I didn’t have much in common with her either, at least not on a personal level. It wasn’t that she was a bad person. She was just very self-centered in a child-like way. And although she was the granddaughter of a very famous painter, she didn’t seem to have much appreciation for art. That really got to me.

I sensed Mark tense up beside me. Uh oh. I could guess why. He was a player, and Caitlin was a party girl. Great. I could just imagine how they might “know” each other. Here came the awkward.

“Beth, I’m glad you’re here,” Caitlin said when she reached us. “I wanted to talk to you.” She glanced up at Mark, and got a puzzled look on her face for a moment. “Hey, I know you.” Then recognition seemed to dawn. “Oh wait! We hooked up once! Mike, right?” she asked as if she were discussing having gone to college together, rather than having had sex with him. I felt like kicking her in the shins.

“Mark,” he answered coolly.

“Oh right,” Caitlin said with a faraway look. “Thanksgiving weekend. That was the night that Lydia Stuart unfriended me on Facebook. Mike here provided some good distraction.” She snort laughed like she was remembering something funny. Good times. Forget kicking her in the shins. I wanted to beat her senseless. Okay, more senseless than she already was. Fucking oblivious.

Mark looked like he couldn’t decide whether he felt more mortified or apoplectic. He subtly slid is arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him. I can’t say that I minded, but it was a useless gesture. It wouldn’t have occurred to Caitlin that I might have minded her reminiscing about having carnal knowledge of my date. At least the warmth of his body, pressed against my side, was providing
me
with some good distraction though.

Just then, another familiar person approached. I recognized Paul Gerard, a handsome and sophisticated man in his fifties, who was the scion of a wealthy old Philadelphia family, an art collector, and very active philanthropist. I was happy to see him, but then, at that point, I would have been happy to see an IRS auditor.

“Beth, how nice to see you,” he said with a warm smile, leaning in and kissing me on the cheek. “And Caitlin is here too,” he added, and that pretty much said it all.

“Hello Paul,” she replied, glancing around and looking uncomfortable.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said to Mark.

“Mark Patterson,” Mark said, extending a hand for Paul to shake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mark,” he said in a friendly tone, and then turned to me again. “I came over to tell you that I’m the owner of several of the photographs in the exhibit, and I could arrange for you to have a private showing before everyone else.”

“That would be wonderful,” I said glancing at Mark. I was thankful for the excuse to get out of there. “Nice seeing you, Caitlin,” I said, automatically handing her my business card. Then I followed Paul, who was already headed for a hallway off to our left. Mark walked beside me resting his hand on the small of my back. I was hyper-aware of the warmth of his skin through the fabric of my dress.

Paul was leading us toward one of the smaller exhibit rooms. He had a word with a guard at the entrance, and then signaled us to follow him into the exhibit space. There were several glass cases with movie memorabilia, and framed photos, lit with spotlights, adorning the walls.

“I’ll leave you two alone to enjoy,” Paul said, and with a wink, as he left.

“I think that was a rescue mission,” I noted dryly.

“
Beth, about Caitlin…”

“Mark, you’re both single and over eighteen. I promise that I’m not judging your lifestyle choices.”

“I just meant it was uncomfortable. I can’t believe she said that.”

“Oh, well, don’t worry about that. I know that Caitlin is just clueless, not malicious. And it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“About that other thing, though… I realize I must seem like a womanizer, but it’s not that I have a
problem
with commitment.”