Stella in Stilettos (21 page)

Clearly he wasn’t the only one losing interest. Corresponding with him felt curiously like cheating, which was silly because she wasn’t. She and Alex weren’t a couple.

Her phone rang and she made a mad dash from the bathroom to answer it.

“Hey you little floozy,” Trish teased. “What are you up to?”

It wasn’t Alex but she was still happy to talk to Trish. “I’m waiting for Misty to show up. We’re getting pizza. Want to join us? By the way, I’m not a floozy.” Stella cradled the phone in her neck and strolled to the fridge for a bottle of water.

“Of course you are. We both are,” Trish laughed. “Thanks for the invite, but Steve’s coming over and I need to straighten this place up. Has Alex called yet?”

“Nope.” But she wished he would so she could stop going crazy.

“He will. Now that the guys aren’t around, I have to ask. How was it?”

The sip of water Stella had just taken came spurting out. She knew what Trish was after, but she wasn’t going to give it to her. “He was fun to be with.”

Trish sighed. “You always make me work for it.”

Stella’s insides turned to mush. “He’s the most wonderful, attentive man, Trish.” She idly touched her lips. “Boy can he kiss. All he has to do is bend his head like he’s going to kiss me and I go weak in the knees. I’ve read about that happening, but I thought it was a bunch of malarkey. Turns out, it isn’t.”

From out of the blue came something Mr. Right said. ‘When I kiss a woman I want her to know she’s been kissed’. She sighed. He might be a good kisser, but she was sure no one else in the world could kiss like Alex.

Trish tried to pry the good stuff out of her. “And the lovemaking?”

Stella snorted with laughter. “You don’t beat around the bush do you?”

“What’s the point? It only delays things.” Trish prompted her to ante up.

“Without the finer details, let me just say on a scale of one to ten, he’s a fifteen.”

“I knew it,” Trish exclaimed. “You know I want the finer details too.”

“You’re not getting them. They’re staying locked in the vault.” Some things needed to stay between her and Alex. Actually, she didn’t want to jinx things by revealing too much. She gave the conversation a one-eighty turn. “You and Steve got along pretty good too and you looked like a contented woman this morning. Tell me all about it.”

Trish squirmed on the other end. “Umm …”

Stella chuckled. “Not so easy when the light is shining on you, is it?”

All the humor left Trish’s voice. “Steve is unlike any guy I’ve ever known. He’s warm and gentle, and he gets me. Not everyone gets me.”

“I get you, Trish.”

“I know you do, and the fact Steve does too, makes me love him all the more. I really do think I’m falling for him, Stella. I’ve finally found the one man who gives as good as he gets. He’s tender and loving, rotten and ornery. Just the kind of guy I need. In fact, I’d venture to say I’m in love with him and it scares the hell out of me.”

“Don’t be scared, Trish. You’ve waited a long time to give your heart to the right man. What’s that thing you’re always telling me? Oh yeah. Don’t fight it.”

Stella also wanted to tell Trish to take it slow to make sure it was real. Even though Steve had mostly proven the womanizer-rumors to be false, people in hot pursuit always put their best foot forward. He could actually be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. If he was, and if he hurt Trish, she’d not only rip that sheep outfit off of him, she’d make veal cutlets out of him.

“I’m usually the one telling you not to be scared,” Trish said. “Talk about role-reversal.”

“We’re here for each other. It’s why we’re such good friends.”

A rap at the door signaled Misty’s arrival. “I have to go. Do you want to do lunch tomorrow? We can talk about the trip.” Stella winced silently. With this strange turn of events between her and Alex, she wasn’t so sure going on this Meet and Greet was such a good idea.

* * * *

Stella ran a bubble bath and sat a decanter of coffee by the side of the tub. She slipped out of her comfy robe and into the hot, bubbly water. She inhaled slowly and exhaled with delight. It had been a good day. Alex in the morning. Misty in the afternoon.

Her thoughts drifted to one of the key discussions she and Misty had over pizza; the one involving why her plan fell apart. Misty’s take on it made sense. She
did
have a lot of personalities to deal with. Could she blame them for its lack of success? Not really. The fault was hers. She’s the one who didn’t let it go off the way it was supposed to, and deep down she was happy it didn’t.

She and Misty shared a good laugh over the door prize she’d won. When Misty asked to see it, Stella couldn’t remember what happened to it. Someone from the clean-up committee probably found the package and either tossed it in the trash or wrapped it up as a gag gift for someone else.

She slid lower in the tub and gloried in the warmth. Her fingers went to the bruise on her neck, and she chuckled at Misty’s comment about it – ‘With suction like that he could clean a swimming pool’. Actually, the way Alex’s mouth was everywhere, she was lucky she wasn’t one giant bruise.

While lathering a chenille bath mitt with floral body wash, she contemplated what she would do or what she would say if Alex called. Things were different between them now. Would they act differently? Would they cozy up to one another or fall into a pathetic game of dodge-em? Another scenario brought a hopeful sigh. Would they have a clandestine affair outside of work?

She closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart. Alex had blocked all logical thought and as corny as it would sound to someone else, making love with him was the most earth-moving experience of her life. Given the chance, she wouldn’t change a thing.

Her cell phone rang and she climbed half-way out of the tub to retrieve it. “Hello.”

A familiar, deep-timbered voice made her pulse jump. “Stella. What are you doing?”

Stella tried to sound casual, but her heart was thumping with excitement. “I’m presently covered with bubbles.”

Alex’s tone went from friendly to sensual in a millisecond. “Tease.”

Stella almost dropped the phone in the water. “There’s room for two.”

“You’re playing with fire, woman.”

I know,
she thought nervously, and offered him a soft chuckle. “I’m glad you called.”

“Had I known you were covered in bubbles, I would’ve called sooner.” His voice contained husky laughter, but it also had a vacillating quality to it. He confirmed the uncertainty right away. “I wasn’t sure you’d want me to call after you had time to think about things.”

Her excited heart slumped a little. “Don’t be silly. We had a good night.”

“We did.” There was a long pause. “I shouldn’t have let you leave this morning, but I guess we both needed to get our bearings.”

Who had gotten their bearings? “A girl can’t stay in pajamas and high heels all day.”

“Speaking of which, I may never wash the pajamas.”

He was doing it again. The comment was light but there was hesitant inflection on the last few words. She closed her eyes. His indecision was apparent. What was next? Regret?

“We need to talk,” he said.

Those four words all but jerked her out of the tub. “Whenever,” she said halfheartedly.

Alex was silent for a few moments. “Can I come up?”

The man was determined to steal her joy. “Sure. I’m not going anywhere.”

She snapped her cell phone closed and tossed it onto her robe. There wasn’t going to be a clandestine affair, because the game of dodge-em was about to begin.

A sudden knock at the door sent Stella scrambling from the tub and into the misshapen terry-cloth robe. She ventured a look in the mirror to re-tuck the few stray locks of hair that cunningly escaped the giant claw-clip on top of her head, and she noticed the hot water made her face blotchy pink. “Excellent, Matson. Ragged and well-done is not a good look.”

Her only consolation was it couldn’t possibly be Alex since his apartment was at least twenty-five minutes away; maybe longer, depending on traffic.

She padded in bare feet to the door and squinted into the peek-hole. Dark hair and violet eyes filled her line of vision. She squinted a second time.

Her hands flew to her tousled mop and she glanced down at the shabby robe. Last night she’d wanted to fill him with regret by looking like a million bucks. Tonight the regret part would come into play, only in reverse. He’d take one look and wonder what the heck he was doing there.

When she didn’t answer the door right away, Alex fell into a series of persistent knocks. “I know you’re in there.”

“Oh well,” she mumbled. This was the real Stella, uncluttered and unbeautiful. He might as well see her for who she really was. It would probably make whatever he had to say a little easier. She took a deep breath and unlocked the dead-bolt.

Even though the take-me-as-I-am attitude sounded good, her heart was still pumping erratically. She plastered on a congenial smile, braced for a frown and opened the door.

Amazingly, Alex smiled instead of frowned and cautious joy danced its way through her.

“Bet you weren’t expecting me so soon, were you?”

She cinched her robe tighter and shuttered her eyes suspiciously. “How’d you get here so fast?”

“You obviously didn’t catch it when I asked if I could come up. I was in your parking lot when I called.”

Stella held back a smile. “Yeah. Missed that. As you can see, I thought I had some primp-time. Since you’re Johnny-on-the-spot, what you see is what you get.” When he grinned, she realized she shouldn’t have used the word get. It was clearly suggestive, like the tub invitation.

Alex was still technically in the hallway. “Can I come in?”

Stella took him by the hand and tugged him in.

Once the door was closed, he swung her around so they were chest to chest and he kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve been driving around for half an hour trying to figure out if I should call or stop by, or what. The car seems to have a mind of its own and pulled into your parking lot.”

His words made her insecurities kick in and her thoughts went into overdrive. He was going to slam the door on them. In the twelve or so hours they were apart, he must’ve had a change of heart.

A firestorm of emotion burned its way through her. She’d done it again. She’d given herself freely because she foolishly thought he was the one. He obviously wasn’t.

The heavy cynicism continued. Was Alex going to go off to find himself too? Was she still too inhibited? What lame excuse would he offer up? Argh! Her heart wasn’t ready to be snapped in half again.

“I’ll be right back.” She rushed to the bedroom and wilted against the closed door. So what if he slows things down, or breaks things off completely. Nothing should’ve happened in the first place. That rationalization didn’t help.

Salty tears rimmed her eyes, she blinked them away. She’d been an idiot. Actually, they’d both been idiots, but he was going to step up to the plate and fix things. He was going to make her listen to the voice of reason; the one her heart chose to ignore all day, the voice she should’ve been listening to all along.

Shaky legs took her to the dresser. She shed the robe and gave it an anxious toss across the room, where it landed just below her window. In a fit of turmoil, she tore through her lingerie drawer until she found a boring bra and an equally boring pair of cotton panties and slipped into them. With one fluid movement, she scooped up the sexy ones and pitched them into the same heap as the robe. She did not need anything sexy…ever again.

 She slid down beside the bed and shot the lingerie a disdainful glance as though they were part of the problem. Then came a moment of clarity. She was thirty years old, partially-naked, throwing underwear and fretting over a guy, the same scenario as a year ago.

A stray tear fell down her cheek. She gave it a harsh swipe. “This is your own fault.”

Alex peeked around the bedroom door. “What’s taking so long, Matson?”

Stella thought she’d conquered the beast of emotion. When Alex walked over and slid down beside her, the tears she’d held in check, leaked out.

A muscled arm found her shoulders and pulled her to him. With extreme tenderness, he lifted her chin. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing a pitcher of margaritas and a time-machine won’t fix
, she thought tearfully. “I’m fine,” she insisted, and squirmed out of his embrace. There’s no way she could rein in on anything with him touching her.

“Hmm.” He didn’t sound convinced.

She couldn’t tell him what was really going on because men didn’t understand panic. They also didn’t understand how one night of lovemaking could rearrange a woman’s way of thinking. There was no way she could start a dialogue of feelings. Instead, she hopped up, pulled a pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt from her drawer and hurried into them. Let’s get something to drink.”

Stella rushed from the bedroom with Alex following close behind.

“Are you angry that I showed up so soon?”

Stella wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. “No.” She covered up her weird behavior with a fib. “It’s hormones.” The h-word invoked fear in most men and she imagined Alex was no exception. In fact, he was probably already devising his exit-strategy.