If I Were Your Woman (9 page)

Michael smiled. He took instructions from his coach, but it stopped there. He followed her inside.

They spent the next half hour finishing up dessert with Michael regaling them with stories of the NBA. Barbara was getting an intense headache and her usually melt-in-your-mouth peach cobbler tasted like dry wood to her.

“So you met Ms. Barbara while you were in rehab?” Chauncey quizzed.

“Yep. She whipped me right into shape with those magic hands.” He flashed that paparazzi smile at her, and Wil threw daggers. Her head pounded.

Barbara jumped up. “Let me take these plates into the kitchen. It's getting late.” She tossed Michael a look.

He slowly stood up. “I really should be going.” He turned to Wil. “Nice meeting you.”

“Likewise.” He stood up and shook Michael's hand and suddenly felt very old and out of shape.

“And you, young man, stay on the offense,” he said, pointing a long finger in Chauncey's direction.

He grinned broadly. “Sure will.”

Michael turned to Barbara. “Good to see you. Thanks for dessert.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“Sure.” She dared not look at Wil.

“I can see myself out.” He waved goodbye and walked out.

Barbara was suddenly exhausted. She felt as if she'd been up for hours, working in the fields. She wanted to collapse. That was the most emotionally draining hour she'd spent in ages.

Chauncey couldn't stop talking about Michael and what he was going to tell all his friends in school. Wil looked like he was going to explode.

Barbara reached out to touch him and he pulled away. He might as well have smacked her.

“I'm gonna get out of here, too. Busy day tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow is your day off, isn't it?”

He went to the hall closet and took out his and Chauncey's coats. “C, come on, let's go.”

“Are you going to ignore me?”

He looked at her. “Oh, you mean like you ignored me while your ex–boy toy was here?”

Her insides twisted. Heat rose to her face. “Ex–boy toy?” She snapped out the words and jerked her neck to the side. “Is that what you said?”

Wil put on his coat. “That's what he is, isn't he? Let's go, Chauncey!” He pulled the door open.

Chauncey pulled up. “Night, Ms. Barbara. Dinner was great. And meeting Michael Townsend…” He grinned.

Barbara forced her thoughts to clear and grabbed hold of her manners. She lightly patted his shoulders. “You're most welcome. Anytime.”

Chauncey followed his father out. Barbara stood in the doorway until she heard the downstairs door slam shut. She winced. Slowly she closed the door and a sinking sensation settled in the pit of her stomach.

S
tephanie was in a dismal mood. She hadn't spoken to Tony in days and he hadn't tried to contact her, either. Maybe it was just as well, she concluded as she parked her BMW at an underground parking garage in the West Village. She had an appointment to meet Terri at Barnone. Although she knew it was one of Tony's favorite haunts, that hadn't been the deciding factor on a meeting spot. If she just so happened to run into him…well, so be it. The plan was to enjoy some downtime while talking business.

She walked up to the hostess at the podium and gave Terri's name.

“Right this way. Your party is already here.”

Stephanie took in the artsy but sleek decor. It had the right amount of sophistication with an urban edge. The music was pumping but it wasn't overwhelming. You didn't have to scream to be heard. The main level was moderately full even for four in the afternoon.

The hostess led her to the mezzanine level and around several tables to a banquette located alongside the panoramic windows.

Terri waved when she saw Stephanie walking in her direction.

The hostess put two menus on either side of the table. “Your server will be right with you,” she said.

“Nice spot,” Stephanie said while sitting down.

“You have to come at night. The stars roll up in here like dice at a crapshoot, all trying to act like they don't want to be noticed but really do anyway.”

“I can imagine.” She stole a surreptitious look around wondering, possibly hoping to see Tony as she made herself comfortable.

“Their drinks are the best,” Terri said, looking over the menu.

“I'm driving. So I have to go easy.”

“I totally understand…but don't mind me.” She laughed. “So how's everything going? You seem a bit distracted.” She paused, craning her neck forward. “Steph?”

Stephanie focused on Terri. “Huh, sorry. What are you drinking?”

“That's not the last thing I said.” She grinned sympathetically. “You okay?”

Stephanie let her guard down. Her shoulders slumped a bit. She rested her arms on the table and folded her hands. Terri was cool. She liked her a lot. They hadn't made a real leap from friends to confidantes, but she felt that she could trust Terri's judgment and it wouldn't be jaded from having known her for years like the girls.

“Man trouble,” she began.

“You and Tony?”

“Let's say more me than Tony.”

The server arrived to take their orders. Stephanie ordered a plate of chicken grilled tacos and a Cosmo. Terri decided on a seafood platter and a frozen piña colada minus the rum. Once the server was gone Stephanie told Terri about the falling-out she and Tony had over her not moving in with him.

Terri was silent for a moment once Stephanie was finished. The server returned with their drinks. “Your food will be out shortly.” She hurried off.

Terri picked up her drink and took a sip. Stephanie was beginning to think that she'd made an awful mistake unloading her laundry. She reached for her drink and immediately wished she'd had the real thing.

Terri looked Stephanie straight in the eyes. “Do you love him?” she asked point-blank.

“I think I do. Sometimes.” She wrapped her hands around the frosted goblet.

“Wrong answer. What is most important to you—right at this moment—your freedom or finally having someone who cares only about you?”

“Of course I want someone who only cares about me. But I don't feel I should have to give up something to get it.”

Terri's right brow rose an inch. “That's what relationships are, Steph, give and take, sacrifices, thinking about someone before you think about yourself, wanting that person to be happy and wanting to be a part of that happiness.”

Stephanie chortled. “Same thing Tony said.”

“He said it because it's true. For real adult relationships to work, for love to work, both parties need to want the same thing…each other and no other.”

The waitress arrived with their meals and set them down on the table. “Will there be anything else, ladies?”

“No, thanks,” they said in unison.

Stephanie pushed her food around on her plate with her fork. “I don't know what it is,” she said softly.

Terri looked across at her. “What
what
is?”

“Why it's so hard for me to really give myself to another person. My track record is miserable. I have a history of getting involved with people who are either physically or emotionally unavailable. I convince myself that it can work, turn a blind eye to all the warning signs, and then find some way to get out of it before they wake up and walk away from me.”

“What are the warning signs with Tony?”

Stephanie put her folk down. “None.”

“And that's more of a problem than anything else,” she stated more than asked. “The only obstacle this time is you.”

“He'll eventually leave, you know. They always do,” Stephanie said as if it was gospel. “I may as well cut my losses now before I get in any deeper.”

Terri frowned. “You honestly believe that?”

“Of course. Either by circumstance or design, they all leave.”

“That's a pretty pessimistic viewpoint. What about all the couples that do make it, the ones that truly last until death do them part?”

“Those are the exceptions, not the rule.” She chewed thoughtfully. “The major cause of divorce in this country is marriage.”

“Girl, all jokes aside, you got issues.” She gave a rueful smile.

“Probably,” she conceded.

“So what are you going to do?”

She shrugged slightly. “I don't know. I guess if Tony decides he still wants to see me on my terms, then we can continue in this relationship. If not…”

“I think if you gave yourself and him half a chance, you'd be surprised how wonderful it is to love and be loved.”

Stephanie looked at her. Chances were something she didn't take. She analyzed all the possibilities, weighed the odds, and came up with a plan. It was how she lived her life. She'd gotten this far. And she was happy. Wasn't she?

 

Barbara and Elizabeth were taking a well-deserved break in the café.

“So he just showed up?” Elizabeth snapped her fingers. “Without calling?”

Barbara nodded, then took a sip of her tea. “He was the absolute last person I expected to see on the other side of my door. Of course Chauncey was totally enamored of him and he rubbed Wil raw to no end.”

“I can imagine.”

“But that's not the worst of it.”

“Worst?” Her brows rose.

Barbara set down her cup. “The entire time he was there was a battle of testosterone. It would have been funny had it been someone else's life in someone else's living room.”

“What did Wil say?”

“He essentially accused me of coming on to Michael and ignoring him the entire time.”

Elizabeth looked closely at her friend. She knew Barbara's past with Michael. They'd been engaged even though Barbara had some ambivalent feelings about their age difference. Barbara was the practical one of the quartet. She was the voice of reason in a storm. She'd totally stepped out of her comfort zone when she became involved with Michael. Going back to Wil was returning to the familiar, even though there'd been years in between since they'd been together. It was comfortable. Although Elizabeth knew that there had been some issues between Barbara and Michael, she often wondered if it wasn't some subconscious excuse to get out of a relationship that would challenge her on a level she wasn't familiar with.

“How right was Wil?” Elizabeth asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Was he right? Were you ignoring him?”

“N-no, of course not,” she said without conviction. “If anything I was more in shock than in awe of Michael being there.”

“How did you feel when you saw him again?”

“I—I didn't feel anything.” She reached for her cup.

“Barb, this is me, your best friend.”

Barbara sighed heavily. “All right, I admit, there were…some feelings there. But I put them right where they belonged—behind me.” She thought for a moment how she had felt when Michael stood at the door, when he came up behind her in the kitchen, when he looked into her eyes. No, she hadn't forgotten the hot passion between them, the way he'd reawakened her sexuality, made her feel desirable again. Sure she'd felt that tingle, that heat run through her veins. But Michael was her past. Wil was her present and her future. At least she hoped so.

“All the reasons why I broke it off with Michael are still valid. He expected me to not have a life of my own if we married. He has a jealous streak and I know in my heart he'd want kids some day and that's something I can never give him. I don't have those issues with Wil.”

“As long as you're sure,” Elizabeth said.

“I am.” She sipped her tea. Wasn't she?

Elizabeth studied her friend of more than fifteen years. Barbara Allen was steady as they come. They'd shared so much together, joys, sorrows, triumphs, and defeats. Yet through it all Barbara had never wavered. So this was a first for Elizabeth, or rather a second, both instances involved Michael Townsend. He was the only entity in Barbara's life wherein she was caught sitting on the proverbial fence. The phenomenon was more curious than troubling. The question that plagued Elizabeth was, besides Michael's youth, what was it about him that rattled Barbara's rock-solid foundation?

Elizabeth leaned forward, drawing Barbara's complete attention. “Does Wil make you feel the same way that Michael did?”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Of course you do. You're stalling for an answer.” She waited a beat. “You know you can be honest with me.”

“I know,” she said on a breath. “When I was with Michael…” Her eyes took on a faraway cast. “He reminded me that I was still a passionate, desirable woman. I never felt that way with Marvin. I mean, I loved my husband, but sex was…well, sex…pleasurable but nothing I'd write an article about. And before I married Marvin, the only other man I'd been with was Wil.

“With Wil it was that young, intense, crazy kinda sex, all the more exciting because of the possibility of getting caught.” She chuckled at the memory of their many escapades.

Barbara folded her hands on top of the table. “There have been a couple of men after Marvin, both disastrous and best left unsaid. Then Michael came into my life. I couldn't have been more stunned if I'd found out I was America's Next Top Model.”

They both broke out in laughter. Then slowly sobering, Barbara continued. “I'd never felt the way Michael made me feel.
Never
. I didn't really know the power of an orgasm until I had one with him.” She bit down on her bottom lip.

Elizabeth arched her brow in awe. She wanted to ask why she'd left him, but held her tongue.

Barbara shrugged slightly. “But great sex isn't everything. All the other pieces have to fit as well.”

“Is that how it is with Wil—all the pieces fit?”

Barbara offered a soft smile. “Yeah, they do. And now that I know how to get and give what I want in bed it all works.”

“Listen, you know more than anyone how much I want you to be happy, and as your friend I have the responsibility to be honest with you. I was there the day Wil walked into the spa. I saw the look on your face. And I'm sitting here right now and saw the look, not just on your face but in your eyes, when you talk about Michael. There's something still there, and if you truly plan on having a lasting relationship with Wil, then you really need to examine how you feel about Michael.”

Barbara slowly shook her head in amazement. “This is the kind of craziness you're supposed to go through in your teens, your twenties, even early thirties, but damn, not at our age.”

“Well, like the saying goes, men are like buses, there's another one coming right behind it. And just because we can catch a bus at a reduced fare doesn't mean we can't enjoy the ride!”

Barbara slapped her palm on the table and laughed. “You sho right about that. And with the reduced fare we have more money for more rides.”

“Whew, girl, you need to stop.”

“But you're right,” Barbara admitted, regaining a serious tone. “I do need to come to terms with my feelings, squash all my doubts once and for all.”

“You owe it to yourself, to Michael, and to Wil.” She reached across the table and took Barbara's hands in hers. “You have two men who love you. And parts of you love both of them for different reasons. But one man deserves all of Barbara Allen. And you deserve to spend the rest of your life happy, not second-guessing your decisions.”