Loving Mr. July (9 page)

“What experience?” Cynthia scoffed. “Every
woman I’ve ever seen throws themselves at him.”

“My point exactly.” Sharon topped off their
coffees. “Think about it. Any other woman who he makes that much
physical contact with would probably have given him ten flashing
green lights by now.”

“You think he was waiting for my
encouragement?” Cynthia stared at Sharon, incredulous.

“It’s a theory.”

Cynthia started laughing. “It’s a ridiculous
theory. The guy can have any girl he wants. Why would he want a fat
woman with issues?”

“Okay, now you’re making me mad,” Sharon
said. She got up circled the kitchen, blew out a few breaths, and
came back to lean over the table. “I know you had a crappy
childhood. I know it’s taken you a while to learn how to deal with
it. But hiding behind the ‘I’m fat’ thing is getting old. As Kurt’s
helped you prove, one of the big contributors to the whole weight
thing has been your distinct aversion to exercise.”

She scowled and put up a hand when Cynthia
tried to say something. “Let me finish. I know you’ve eaten your
feelings. I get that. And I’m not saying you didn’t have reason to.
And I know you’re short, so you can’t eat as much as us taller
people. But at some point, you need to deal with the hand you’ve
been given and figure out how you want to live. You don’t have any
medical conditions. Yet.” She gave Cynthia a warning glance.

Cynthia remained silent.

Sharon raised her hand, started counting on
her fingers. “You’re smart. Funny. Loyal. Good-hearted.
Pretty.”

Cynthia shook her head.

“Don’t argue with me.” Sharon jabbed a finger
in Cynthia’s arm. “You’re a whole lot more hung up on the whole
weight thing than anyone else is. If it’s such an issue to you, do
something about it. If not, then shut up about it.” She sat down,
blew out a breath. “And I’m telling you this because you’re my best
friend and if I’m not honest with you, no one will be.”

Cynthia felt tears coming to her eyes. “Been
bottling that one up for a while, have you?”

“I’m sorry, Cyn.” Sharon looked
distressed.

Cynthia got up and walked around the table to
hug her friend. “Don’t be. Because you’re right. I don’t have any
medical or other excuse to stay fat. These last couple of weeks
with Kurt have shown me more than ever that it’s a numbers game.
Strictly calories in, calories out. I
have
been making
excuses. And I know you care.”

Sharon nodded, weeping a little.

“And, uh, Sharon,” Cynthia said, peering
intently into her friend’s face, “is it possible you’re
pregnant?”

“What?” Sharon swung her head around to stare
at Cynthia.

“Just a thought, because I’ve never seen you
so moody as you’ve been the last couple of weeks. And you don’t
normally devour three Danish either.”

“Oh my gosh!” Sharon raised a hand to cover
her mouth. “I never even considered, but yeah, it has been a while
since my last…Oh my gosh. I nearly bit Blake’s head off this
morning too. And now you. And…Oh my gosh.”

Cynthia started laughing. “Relax Hon. Before
you start hyperventilating, let’s go get a kit and make sure. I
take it you never even considered the idea?”

Sharon put a hand on her stomach and shook
her head.

“So let’s go to the store.” She started to
grab her purse.

“No, wait.” Sharon stilled her with one hand.
“First I want to know what you’re going to do about Kurt.”

Cynthia shrugged. “What’s to do?”

“Oh, c’mon, Cynthia. You know how to go about
attracting a man. You’ve always been far better at it than me.”

“Yeah, that’s why you’re married and I’m
not,” Cynthia said.

“You’ve had far more offers than I had,”
Sharon reminded her. “But don’t try to get me off track. I’m not
going to the drugstore with you until you tell me your plan. And
you know you want to know if you’re going to be a Godmother.”

Cynthia sighed, sat down. “I don’t have a
plan.”

“You mentioned wearing the red dress, what
else have you worn around him?”

Cynthia started laughing. “You don’t want to
know.”

“That good, huh?”

“Uh, uh. That bad.” Cynthia thought about
some of the crazy workout outfits she’d worn. “You’re not going to
want to hear this.”

Sharon raised one eyebrow, waited.

Cynthia sighed. It was a wonder Kurt hadn’t
disowned her immediately at the gym. “Initially I thought that if I
drew attention to myself, Kurt would be so embarrassed, he’d give
up on the idea of us working out together.”

“You’re right, I didn’t want to hear this.
You’re making me mad again.”

Cynthia started giggling. “Oh Sharon, if you
could have seen his face the first day. I was wearing this bright
yellow, and I mean
bright
yellow spandex outfit that was a
size too small. It highlighted every roll on my body.”

Sharon stared at her. “You, the woman who
always wears black to workout? Although I admit I’ve never been
certain whether that’s because you’re in mourning over having to
workout or because you think it makes you look slimmer.”

Cynthia narrowed her eyes. “Not nice. Anyway,
yes, I bought the most garish, worst fitting spandex outfits you’ve
ever seen. A whole rainbow of choices.”

“And Kurt?”

“Other than the first morning when he asked
if I was worried he wouldn’t see me in the fog, hasn’t batted an
eye.”

Sharon gave a shout of laughter. “Oh my gosh,
he’s more of a gentleman than I thought.”

“Apparently.” Cynthia nodded, laughing with
her. “The thing is, now most of those outfits are getting too
big.”

“Good! You’ll have a reason to buy more
sedate ones now.”

Cynthia shrugged. “I guess. Although I don’t
see that what I wear matters all that much.”

“Humor me, okay?” Sharon got up, started
stacking the plates in the dishwasher. “For the next few days, do
whatever you can to look good around Kurt. And if he does the
touchy thing, do it right back. Show him you’re interested. See
what happens.”

“I don’t know, Sharon,” Cynthia said, slowly.
“I haven’t felt like this about anyone in a long time, maybe ever.
It would really hurt to be rejected.”

“Harder to live your whole life wondering
what if.” She cleared the last of the dishes.

“You got a point. I’ll think about it.”
Cynthia poured out the rest of the coffee. “And now we’re going to
the drugstore.”

“What do you say we take a break tonight and
do something different?” Kurt asked the question the moment Cynthia
reached the top of the stairs in his house the following
Friday.

He was waiting for her, something new.
Cynthia didn’t think he’d ever made it home before her. Or made it
to his house before her, she corrected in her mind. It would only
be a recipe for heartache to start thinking of his house as home,
even if these last three weeks she’d been pretty much living there.
It was temporary. She had to remember that.

“Thought up some new way to torture me?”
Cynthia put her purse down on the table and walked over to the
refrigerator to put away the groceries she’d brought up. It had
been a long week. In reality, all she wanted to do was sit on the
deck with a glass of wine.

Kurt followed her into the kitchen. He leaned
a hip against the counter, waited until she straightened from the
fridge and surprised her by brushing the hair away from her face
with a light touch. “Hard week?”

“Do I look that bad?” Cynthia stepped back,
not wanting Kurt to know how much he affected her.

Kurt let his hand drop from her face. “Why do
you do that?”

Cynthia what he referred to without asking.
“Habit I guess. If you put yourself down first, whatever anyone
else says doesn’t seem as bad.”

Kurt shook his head. “We have some work to do
with you, my friend.”

Cynthia shrugged. His friend. She had to
remember that. She was just a friend.

“How about we take Lucky out for a leisurely
walk along the beach?” Kurt asked.

“Leisurely,” Cynthia repeated. “As in my
leisurely or your leisurely?”

Kurt laughed. “I’d say your leisurely, but I
think Lucky may have some say in the matter, at least until we get
to the leash-free area.”

Lucky was already going nuts at the mere
mention of the word ‘walk,’ running back and forth between Kurt and
the closet where he kept her leash.

Cynthia looked down at the long silk maxi
skirt she had donned that morning. “I guess I should change into my
workout gear.”

“No. Leave what you have on. You look
beautiful,” Kurt said, and immediately turned around to rummage in
the closet, giving Cynthia a chance to hide her surprise at his
words.

He emerged with a couple of pairs of rather
sad looking flip-flops. At Cynthia’s raised eyebrows, he grimaced
then grinned. “I know. They’re pretty bad. But I don’t think your
heels are going to cut it on the sand. And we only need these to
get down to the surf line anyway.”

As Cynthia took the flip-flops from him, she
noticed for the first time what Kurt was wearing. Instead of the
usual crisp business attire he always came home in, Kurt wore faded
Levi’s, and a soft Hawaiian shirt, open at the neck. He’d come home
much earlier than usual, apparently.

She slipped off her heals, grateful to
stretch her calves after a long day of standing on her feet. The
flip-flops were way too large for her, and looked completely
incongruous with the flowing silk, not to mention her ‘Crazy for
Coral’ pedicure. She preceded Kurt and the straining Lucky down the
stairs and out onto the beach sand.

They walked in companionable silence up to
the northern end of the beach, already full of dogs and their
owners.

Because it was high tide, and there was less
sand to walk over, Kurt offered Cynthia a hand over the rocks at
the edge of the dog run area, where the water from the marshlands
drained into the surf. He held onto her hand longer than necessary,
acting like it was the most natural thing in the world to be
holding her hand as they walked toward the other dog owners.

With her heart beating a mile a minute, and
feeling like a high school girl with her first crush, Cynthia took
a peek at his face. He looked forward, toward Lucky, and lightly
whistled a song she didn’t recognize.

She wanted to draw him closer, give him a
hug, but uncharacteristic shyness held her back. He wasn’t being
romantic with her, she told herself. He probably didn’t even
realize he still held her hand. A few moments later when he
abruptly dropped it, accepted a slobbery, wet tennis ball from
Lucky and threw it far out in the water for the dog to fetch,
Cynthia breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t embarrassed
herself. Nope, Sharon had it all wrong, he wasn’t making moves on
her. He was just a tactile sort of guy.

After what seemed like the hundredth time
that Kurt threw the ball for Lucky, he glanced over at her. “You
want to head back?”

Cynthia looked down at the panting dog at
their feet. “She all tuckered out?”

“Oh no,” Kurt said, laughing. “She can do
this forever. But my arm is sore.” He gave her a sheepish grin.
“Too much weight lifting, I guess.”

Cynthia smiled. She picked up the slimy,
sand-covered ball. “Then I guess I should have a go at it for a
bit.” She threw the ball a hard as she could, but it landed a much
shorter distance away than when Kurt had thrown it. “I need one of
the ball flinger thingies.”

Kurt gave her a wicked grin. “Sounds a little
kinky.”

Cynthia rolled her eyes and tried to give him
a playful punch in the arm. “Get your mind out of the gutter,
buddy. You know what I meant.”

Kurt ducked away, laughing. “I have one. Just
forgot to bring it this time.”

After a few more throws, they gathered Lucky
and headed back toward Kurt’s home.

“So,” Kurt began after they’d walked a bit.
“You game to do some marketing consulting for RentBro?”

Cynthia looked up in surprise. “I thought you
guys had a pretty solid department there?”

Kurt lifted his brows. “You checked up on
that too?”

Cynthia shrugged and let out a little laugh.
“I went to school with your marketing director, Bob.”

“Of course you did,” Kurt said, his lips
curving. “Before I go any further, maybe I should ask how many
people do you know at RentBro?”

Cynthia put a finger to her chin and thought
for a moment. “Your marketing director, your company lawyer, Blake,
of course, and I’ve met Blake’s assistant, Ethel.”

“Before or after the newsletter switch?”

“Classified information.” Cynthia gave him a
teasing grin.

Kurt’s lips twitched in response. “Okay, I’ll
let that one go. Back to the marketing. We need some fresh ideas.
Have any interest in taking a look at what Bob’s put together and
maybe giving us some feedback as to what might be improved?”

“Wouldn’t Bob be a little offended?” Cynthia
shivered in the evening breeze.

In a casual motion, Kurt slung his arm around
her shoulder, drawing her close, rubbing her arm with his hand.
“Bob knows his own strengths and weaknesses. Ninety-five percent of
the job, he does exceedingly well, particularly executing
campaigns. It’s just the creative spark he struggles with.”

Cynthia snuggled closer to his warm body, but
couldn’t bring herself to put her arm around his waist, so she
awkwardly laced her fingers together in front of her body. She
tried to act perfectly casual when she responded. “That’s my
favorite part.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Have you now?”

Kurt chuckled at the haughty tone in her
voice. “You’re not the only one who does their homework.”

Cynthia decided to let the comment pass.
“Sure, I’d be interested, as long as I’m not offending anyone. The
bigger question for me though, is why you, as the CFO are even
concerned with this part of the company? Shouldn’t Blake as the CEO
be driving marketing?”