Play Date (Play Makers Book 3) (13 page)

She also had a feeling Kerrie was a hugger since she jumped out of the booth and literally sprinted toward her despite her five-inch heels.

“Rachel! I was afraid you wouldn’t come.” She embraced her effusively. “I must have sounded crazy on the phone, but here I am, completely normal.”

Rachel pretended to agree, returning the embrace cautiously. “Thanks for sending the car, Kerrie. It was a real treat.”

“Rafael? Rawrrr. If I was ten years younger . . .” She gave Rachel a teasing smile. “I’m kidding. You could tell, right?”

Rachel nodded, walked to the booth and slid into the free side. Then she took a moment to study Kerrie. The same curly platinum hair, an adorable face, and a plunging neckline at noon no less. And there was a lot to plunge into, making it even more hilarious. But Kerrie was also wearing jeans, which made Rachel feel better about her own choices. Apparently, glamour and jeans weren’t mutually exclusive in this rich woman’s world.

“Agnes will be here in a minute,” Kerrie told her in a whisper. “But I’m glad we have a minute to talk first.” Reaching across the table, she squeezed Rachel’s hand. “I feel like we’re star-crossed lovers.”

“You and me?”

“No, silly. Me and Sean.”

“Whew.”

Kerrie laughed happily, then turned to the red-headed waitress who had arrived and was hovering. “Agnes! Thank God you’re here. Bring Rachel a martini, please? And another one for me. Three olives each.”

“I’ll have iced tea,” Rachel corrected her. Then she smiled at the waitress. “Thank you.”

“Iced tea sounds good,” Kerrie admitted. “Bring me one too, please.”

Agnes gave a valiant smile. “Do you mean instead of the martinis?”

“Good grief, no. Bring it all.”

“Not for me,” Rachel scolded her. “I’m good with iced tea. Thanks, Agnes.”

Kerrie smiled. “Bring everything, Agnes. I’ll drink whatever’s left over. Like I explained,” she told the waitress in a conspiratorial tone, “this is the start of a great friendship. You, me and Rachel.”

Agnes gave Rachel a quick glance that was clearly a cry for help, then she assured Kerrie, “I’ll get those right away. Have you had a chance to study the appetizer menu?”

“It all looks good. But we can’t be gluttons, can we? So we’ll have the calamari and the crab cakes. Okay with you, Rachel?”

“Yes, it sounds fine.”

“Right away, then,” Agnes promised, darting away.

“Don’t you love her?” Kerrie demanded. “I pre-tipped her, so we’ll get amazing service.”

Rachel’s head was spinning again. “How can you
pre
-tip her? You don’t know how much the bill will be.”

“The meal is prepaid on my credit card. But I gave Agnes a hundred-dollar bill in advance, and I’ll give her another hundred—in cash again—when we’re done. That’s fair, right? I love good service. And as soon as I met her, I had a good feeling. Didn’t you?”

Rachel struggled for a calming breath. “I’m sure she’s worth it, but I can’t afford to tip like that. I
wish
I could, but I can’t. So let’s slow it down, please?”

“I’m covering everything, silly. You’re my guest. Is that why you only wanted iced tea?”

“Not at all.” Rachel laughed. “You probably saw me with a cocktail at the wedding, but in real life I’m not much of a drinker. I ordered iced tea because that’s what I want.”

She couldn’t help enjoying Kerrie’s sparkling amber eyes, and could just imagine how Sean must react to them. So she leaned forward and admitted, “I’m dying to hear about you and Sean.”

“It’s complicated,” Kerrie admitted. “But first, tell me about you.”

“What about me?”

“First John Spurling dumps you. Then Sean dumps you. Then that lunatic Bannerman hits on you? We really need to find you a nice guy.”

Rachel grimaced. “I’m fine.”

“Are you dead set on football players? It’s a lousy lifestyle, you know. Plus, they get injured. How about a doctor? I know some good ones.”

“Please don’t matchmake me. I’ve had enough of that.” Rachel paused to smile at Agnes, who had served them each an iced tea
and
a martini with three olives, the latter of which Rachel immediately slid across the table toward Kerrie. “Thanks, Agnes.”

“Your food will be out in a minute. Are you ready to order your main course?”

Rachel glanced at Kerrie, who said briskly, “What’s
your
favorite, Agnes?”

The waitress sighed. “I love the fish and chips. But we have a wide assortment—”

“Fish and chips! You’ll eat that too, won’t you, Rachel?”

She nodded.

The waitress escaped, then Rachel eyed Kerrie sternly. “I want to hear about you and Sean. Why is it a secret? And why can’t I tell him I talked to you?”

“You’re like Joan of Arc. Did you know that? That’s the image I got when I heard you on the phone.”

Rachel shook her head ruefully. “I still can’t believe Sean had me on speaker.”

“And I still can’t believe you kissed Bam Bannerman,” Kerrie told her with a teasing smile. “What were you thinking? It’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull. A super-
hung
bull.”

“I thought we were here to talk about Sean.”

Kerrie giggled. “He’s super-hung too, but he doesn’t bang every girl he sees. And nice girls like you? You’re catnip to Bannerman, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t want to talk about Vince Bannerman,” Rachel murmured. “He’s safely in the past.”

“Good.” Kerrie eyed her curiously. “You know what I think? You’re more daring than people think.”

“Well, I teach kindergarten. That’s not for the faint of heart.”

“Just like Joan of Arc,” Kerrie insisted. “I’m making you my official role model.”

Rachel wanted to scream, but Agnes arrived at that moment to deliver deep-fried calamari, tentacles and all, and some fragrant crab cakes.

“Thanks, Agnes,” she said softly. Then she gave Kerrie her best Joan of Arc glare. “You and Sean. What’s the story?”

To her surprise, Kerrie’s eyes literally shone. “I love him, Rachel. And he loves me.”

“Oh . . .” She felt horribly guilty for losing patience, and said sincerely, “That’s wonderful. He’s a great guy. And you mentioned you knew him before this week. So? Were you just reunited at the wedding? It’s romantic, Kerrie.”

The tiny blonde nodded. “It’s kismet, really. You know what that is, right?”

Rachel nodded.

“You’ll be honest with me, won’t you? Because you care about Sean?”

Intimidated, Rachel eyed the martini she had so hastily given away. Then she nodded again. “I’ll be honest. And yes, I care about Sean. So . . . how bad
is
it?”

“Bad?” Kerrie seemed surprised by the word. “It’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And to him too, or at least I hope it is.”

The cloud lifted from Rachel’s imagination. Apparently this was going to be a love story. But with a twist, obviously, so she asked, “Why the secrecy then?”

“Well, for one thing, Sean’s friends might judge us. And
my
friends are my husband’s friends too, so that’s totally awkward. I wish we could just be together, but it’s complicated.”

“Hold on.” Rachel took a deep breath, trying to process what she had just heard. Then she reclaimed her martini, took a quick sip, and as Kerrie waited patiently, she also ate two olives. Finally she managed to ask, “You’re married?”

“You didn’t know?
That’s
the problem, Rachel. Otherwise, Sean and I would be on a beach in Tahiti right now.”

“Are you and your husband separated?”

“I don’t believe in that. My plan is to fly to Vegas with Sean, get a quickie divorce, and get married. All in one glorious night.”

Rachel shook her head. “I don’t think quickie divorces work that way. It still takes weeks.”

“Not in Vegas,” Kerrie assured her. “Why do you think they call it quickie?”

A throbbing pain in Rachel’s temple warned her to just drop it. But she had read an article about this, hadn’t she? It took weeks. And since other states had loosened their own divorce laws, Kerrie could probably get one as quickly in Oregon as she could in Vegas.

But same-day service? That was for weddings and oil changes.

“Just look into it, Kerrie,” she told her finally. “A good divorce attorney would know.”

Kerrie rolled her eyes. “We don’t need lawyers. Coz will be shocked, but he won’t really fight me.”

Rachel’s mouth sprayed gin and olive juice across the table, then she tried to regain her composure, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Did you say Coz? Isn’t that what they call Sean’s coach?”

“Right. I’m Kerrie Cosner. I thought you knew that.”

“No. No, I didn’t.”

Kerrie sighed. “So I guess you were right the first time. It’s bad. I just don’t want to admit it.”

Rachel could see Agnes in the distance and waved for her. The pre-tipped waitress came running, and Rachel whispered, “Can I have a cosmopolitan? It’s an emergency.”

“That sounds good,” Kerrie chimed in. “I’ll have one too. Thanks, Agnes. We love you.”

Rachel waited until the waitress was gone, then sat back and rubbed her eyes. “So let’s get this straight. You’re married to Sean’s coach. And you’re still living with him. But you’re sleeping with Sean. Is that . . . ? Is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s why I can only talk to
you
about it. Can you imagine what John Spurling would say? His father’s a coach too, so ouch. But that’s not the real problem.”

Rachel glared. “It gets worse?”

“Not in an ugly sense. Just hurtful, really. Sean doesn’t want to date a quote-unquote married woman, so he keeps threatening to break it off.”

“Quote-unquote?” Rachel took another sip of her martini, then said as gently as she could, “It’s not just an expression, Kerrie. You actually
are
a married woman.”

“Except Coz hasn’t touched me in years.”

“Oh.” Rachel chewed her lip, then nodded. “Okay, that changes things a little. I mean, I think you’re justified in . . . well, finding comfort elsewhere.”

“And meanwhile, Coz finds comfort with
dozens
of women,” Kerrie said angrily. “It used to hurt so bad, but now it just pisses me off. And like you said, I’m justified. That’s the part Sean doesn’t get.”

Rachel took a deep breath. This was it. Time to stick up for Sean, because as crazy as the situation was, it sounded like he was trying to do the right thing.

So she told Kerrie warily, “I’m sure he’d agree you’re justified. But that still puts him in a bind. Dating a married woman? That’s—well, verboten for lack of a better word.”

“Verboten?” Kerrie rolled the word around in her mouth like an olive. “That’s exactly what it is. Our love is verboten. Wow, I knew you could help.”

“I’m not sure what I can do,” she admitted. “Except maybe advise you to confront your husband. Tell him you know about his infidelity—”

“
Know
about it? He throws it in my face! Every chance he gets.”

“What?”

Kerrie’s golden eyes filled with tears. “He loves doing it. Loves telling me he married the wrong sister and he’s been miserable ever since.”

“The wrong sister?” Rachel’s chest tightened again. “You’re saying he cheats on you with your own sister?”

“Well, technically, he cheated on
her
. With me. Since he was engaged to her when he met me.”

Rachel held up a hand for Kerrie to stop talking. Then she pushed her martini away, took a sip of water, and scanned the room, desperate for Agnes. Even if she didn’t have the food ready yet, she was sane, and this table needed more of that. And luckily, the server was on her way, soon depositing two lusciously pink cosmos and two orders of fish and chips.

“God bless you, Agnes,” Rachel said without thinking.

Kerrie beamed. “She’s like Joan of Arc, right, Agnes?”

The waitress gave a weak smile. “You’re my favorite customers. Excuse me, please?”

That’s right, Agnes, run away,
Rachel thought morosely.
Abandon me with this mess.

“Are you okay?” Kerrie asked.

“He was engaged to your sister?”

“Right. My twin sister.”

“Of course. Your
twin
sister.”

“You see the problem now, don’t you?”

Rachel bit back a shaky smile. “I see lots of problems. So tell me again about you and Sean. You love him?”

“With all my heart.”

“And he loves you?”

“I think so,” Kerrie said, her tone wistful. “But he won’t say it until I’m officially divorced.”

“Okay, then . . .” She pushed the cosmo away and reclaimed her iced tea. “I need time to absorb this, Kerrie. So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to eat our fish and chips. And we’re gonna talk about shoes.”

“Ooo, I love shoes.”

“I had a feeling. So there we go. Fish and chips and shoes. Agreed?”

Kerrie eyed her intently. “But just for now. Once you’ve absorbed it, we need to figure out what I should do.”

Rachel nodded, even though she already knew what Kerrie should do. She just couldn’t form the words. Not with this vulnerable, adorable, possibly delusional woman. It was going to take some time. And lots and lots of chips.

• • •

They had fun after that, their conversation drifting from shoes to cars to vacation spots, and even to the wedding, which Kerrie dryly referred to as “the coronation.”

Apparently she wasn’t a huge fan of the Spurlings.

They didn’t talk about Sean, or the twin sister, or the unfaithful husband, but Rachel was digesting the information in the back of her mind. When that process was complete, she’d know what to do. Talk to Sean? That made the most sense. But she could talk to Kerrie about it too. Or better still, get together with both of them for a sober heart to heart.

One thing was certain: Sean Decker couldn’t continue dating a married woman. He was too noble. Too honorable. It would tear him up inside. Which was such a shame, because something else was equally certain: Kerrie Cosner loved him with her whole heart.

And Kerrie’s heart? Big as the proverbial outdoors. Which meant the heartache from a cheating husband had probably crushed her.