Anything You Can Do (10 page)

"Austin'll do it," Gordon exclaimed, stepping quickly to the car, taking the bag from
Paula, and passing it to Austin. "He has to go right by a post office on his way home. You don't need to be stopping this late at night."

"Okay,"
Paula agreed, shrugging. "About time you lawyers did some of the mailing."

"Pick you up tomorrow
morning to go to the park," Gordon called as they pulled away from the curb. Paula leaned out the window to wave.

"You know," she said, rolling up the window, "it's a shame those guys are lawyers."

"Umm," Bailey murmured noncommittally, refusing to relinquish her train of thought. She'd found something to take her mind off the evening's events, and she didn't want to give it up. What did the two of them want with Paula's letters, and why did Gordon want to take her to the park?

"They were both so gallant tonight. Especially Austin. Kind of surprising, considering the way you two fight, but I suppose that makes it all the more chivalrous. "

"What do you mean?" Bailey gripped the steering wheel, hoping Paula wasn't going to refer to his eating her awful cheesecake.

"Austin saving your honor, of course."

"Saving my honor?" Somehow that had a nicer ring than feeling sorry for her.

"Sure, by eating that horrible cheesecake. You're lucky you make enough money to eat out all the time because you really are the worst cook I've ever known."

"Maybe he liked it," Bailey protested.
Saving my honor?
She fought against the disconcerting warm spot the idea planted in the middle of her chest.

"No way. He just didn't realize that you know you're a lousy cook, and that it doesn't bother yo
u. Still, he was a real gentleman to come to your defense."

"My defense? I don't need anyone to defend me! Certainly not Austin Travers!"

"Well, you must admit, he had the perfect opportunity to roast you, and he didn't do it. Maybe he suddenly noticed you're a woman. You do look really good tonight."

Bailey was grateful for the darkness in the car. She could feel the blood rushing to her face as
Paula's words reminded her of the way she'd felt in Austin's arms only last night, of the kiss they'd shared. Though calling it a kiss was like calling Niagara Falls a creek. And tonight he'd
saved her honor.

*~*~*

Austin slouched low in the seat of his Mercedes, waiting for Paula and Gordon to arrive. Sitting in the park with a huge basket of cut flowers in the passenger seat, trying to be unobtrusive, was ridiculous. Stealing Paula's letters rather than mailing them was bad enough, but this escapade was worse.

He shifted and scanned
the parking lot carefully, anxious to spot Gordon's familiar car and get it over with. Gordon would really owe him after cooking that dinner last night and delivering flowers anonymously today. Of course—he cringed—Gordon might think he'd paid his dues by being forced into eating more of that awful cheesecake.

And there was another piece of insanity. He'd had Bailey on the mat, beaten her fair and square. His cooking was delicious and hers was terrible. Yet he'd thrown the race.

Her expression when she'd taken her first bite flashed onto his brain—those big, clear eyes so full of despair. Logically he knew he should have jumped on her when she was down since that seemed to be about the only time he could jump on her. He should have refused to eat the blasted cheesecake, should have added his insults to the others.

He should have jumped out of his chair and pulled her to her feet and kissed those sad lips. He should have taken them both back to that crazy world they'd found on Friday night.

Kiss her or fight her. There seemed to be no middle ground.

He slammed out of the car and walked across the parking lot onto the grass, not caring if
Paula saw him.

Fresh air, that was the ticket. Get his head clear. As soon as this was over, he'd go to the club and work out. Better yet, he'd go for a
long run. There was another 10-K coming up in a couple of weeks and he had to be ready to trounce Bailey soundly when that time came. His lips curved in an involuntary smile at the thought, and the tension left his body. He'd finish, he decided, half a mile in front of her.

Hands in his pockets, he strolled back toward his car, admiring the roses
along the way, breathing in their aroma, noticing for the first time how blue the sky was. He almost didn't see Gordon and Paula as they drove up. With a sigh, he backed around a tree, hoping no one he knew would see such strange behavior.

Paula
was talking a mile a minute and Gordon was beaming down on her. Gads! Austin certainly hoped he never became that besotted with a woman.

As soon as they were out of sight, he retrieved the flowers from his car, set them in the front seat of
Gordon's vehicle, and ran back to his own. Thank goodness that was over!

Opening the sunroof, he turned the radio up and pulled away, singing along. He'd call Bailey and invite her to run with him th
at evening.

*~*~*

Across the lot, Bailey's lips narrowed as she watched the scenario unfold. She'd known all along that something was screwy about this whole PC business. Following Paula and Gordon to the park had seemed a little silly, but she had been determined to find out what was going on.

Now it all made sense. She should have figured it out before. Gordon pushing
Paula about this Prince Charming thing, making sure she made it to the park, Austin always hanging around, being gallant and chivalrous, Austin volunteering to mail Paula's letters. She'd be willing to bet those letters never made it to the post office.

Her heart shriveled. Painful as it was, she had to admit that she'd come to think of Austin as "hers." Maybe not in the standard sense, but hers to fight with and run with and maybe even kiss again. He'd eaten her cheesecake and stood with her against
Paula and Gordon. But in the end, it was Paula he'd been coming to see—petite, pretty Paula.

Who was it who said, "The more things change, the more they stay the same"? Gangly, awkward Bailey, with braces and freckles, had let the boys copy her homework, but
Paula had been the one who went to proms.

She twisted the key and gunned the engine, screeching out of the parking lot.

Back in her bedroom, Bailey cursed softly, then more loudly as the zipper of her black skirt jammed and refused to budge. Of all times for it to fail—she wanted to be dressed and gone when Paula and Gordon came back. She almost wished she'd gone on to the office in her cutoffs. Everyone else dressed casually on weekends. Only she felt office attire was appropriate when in the office, no matter the day or hour, and today it was proving to be her undoing.

She didn't want to see her friends, to be forced to act as if everything was all right, her life was neat and orderly, the way it had always been. None of the above was true, and she didn't have the emotional energy to pretend it was.

Well, that's what she got for trying to compete in an area in which she had inadequate training and skills.

A gentle touch on her leg turned her attention to Samantha. The little dog was looking up with liquid, pleading eyes. She knew that stockings and suits meant her friend was going away. Bailey reached down and picked her up, balancing the furry body in one hand and scratching her ears with the other.

"You can go with me, sweetheart. On Sundays the office belongs to us. You can lie right in the middle of Stafford Morris' desk if you like. Dig yourself a nice bed in his papers. Just don't get in the ashtray. You'd never get the smell off."

Samantha twisted and scrambled onto Bailey's shoulder, snuggling comfortingly against her neck.

"Sometimes, little one, I think you know more than you let on," Bailey murmured, stroking the soft fur. She couldn't be totally dejected around so much love.

From the living room came the sound of a door closing followed by
Paula's bubbling laughter. Plopping Samantha onto her white bedspread, Bailey gave the zipper a final yank and felt it jerk free. She threw on her jacket, grabbed her black leather shoulder bag and Samantha, and strode out of her bedroom.

Gordon was positioning the telltale flower arrangement in the middle of the coffee table. Samantha squirmed from Bailey's grasp and ran over to gre
et Paula then Gordon then Paula again.

"Bailey,"
Paula called, seating herself on the sofa directly in front of the flowers and next to Gordon. "Come look. While Gordon and I went to retrieve my latest letter, Prince Charming left these in my car. Isn't that romantic?" 

"They're lovely flowers."

Bailey tried to keep her voice neutral, but Paula's eyes narrowed as she turned her full attention to Bailey. "Why are you dressed like that?" she asked.

"I'm going to a costume party as a lawyer. Why do you think I'm dressed like this? I'm going down to the office for a while."

"It's Sunday afternoon," Gordon protested. "Paula and I were talking about maybe calling Austin, and we could all go down to that park over by my house for the free concert. Take a blanket and some cheap wine and pretend we're in college again."

"I never went to college,"
Paula reminded him.

"Yeah, but you've got a great imagination."

They both laughed giddily at the stupid remarks. Bailey felt relief when the telephone shrilled its interruption. She rushed to answer it, to get away from the conversation that centered around Paula and Austin.

"Bailey," Austin's voice boomed over the wire. So much for feeling relief
at the telephone call.

In an instant she considered and rejected a multitude of responses ranging from
What do you want?
to
Go to hell.

"Yes?" was the best she could come up with. Should she ask if he wanted to talk to
Paula, make it easier for him? Hell, no, she decided.

"Have you registered for that
10-K race on Saturday after next?" he asked.

"Not yet." And she wouldn't if he was going to be there.

"I thought you might like to get in a practice run," he went on, seemingly oblivious to her curt reply. "It's a great afternoon for running—low humidity, starting to cool a little. In an hour or so it'll be perfect. We could even wait until night. I love to run after dark, don't you?"

She did, but she wasn't going to admit it to him.

"It's dangerous to run after dark in the city.”

Austin's laughter roared in her ear. "Bailey, I feel deeply sorry for anyone who tries to attack you. Anyway, I'll be running with you. A little ahead, probably, but still within earshot. Why don't we get Gordon and
Paula, grab a light, early dinner, then you and I can go for a late run?"

Obviously he and Gordon needed to get together on their stories. "Gordon wants to go to the free concert in the park."

"Sounds good to me. We can let our dinner settle while we listen to a couple of songs, then go for a run, come back, and listen some more."

Yeah, and you can…
Bailey stopped her thoughts. So she hated Austin and was jealous of Paula. So Paula hated lawyers, and she herself thought a relationship between the two would be disastrous for Paula. That wasn't really her decision to make. If using her was the only way he could get close to Paula, she should just go along with it and let Paula decide.

However
she just wasn’t feeling particularly magnanimous at the moment.

"Blow it out your ear," she said, and hung up the phone.

"Was that by any chance Austin?" Gordon asked.

"Umm. Excuse me. I really have to get to the o
ffice." She leaned over, clapped her hands, and Samantha jumped into her arms.

"Bailey!"
Paula swung over the back of the sofa in front of her. "What's the matter with you today? Are you having PMS?" She tiptoed up to hiss the last remark in Bailey's ear.

Bailey turned her haughtiest scowl on her friend, but thirty years of familiarity had indeed bred contempt.
Paula laughed.

"I thought you reserved that look for old Mrs. Du
nnigan. Remember how you used to get her so confused, she'd have the Mesopotamians pillaging Paris? Come on, Bailey. Let's go out tonight. We'll even take Samantha. If you don't want to go to the concert, we'll do something else."

Heaving a deep sigh, Bailey turned to Gordon.

"Would you excuse us a minute?"

He waved a hand negligently, and she shoved
Paula into her bedroom and closed the door.

"I didn't want to tell you this, but I know who Prince Charming is," she whispered.

"Is that what's upsetting you? Jeez. I know, too. I'm not completely retarded."

"It doesn't bother you? I mean, he's a lawyer."

"I know, and I swore I'd never get mixed up with a lawyer, but he's really not a typical lawyer. And he's gone to so much trouble to convince me of that. I think it's terribly sweet."