This Tangled Thing Called Love: A Contemporary Romance Novel (33 page)

Before David could get in another word, Allan Lawson reached for the phone.

“So what do you think people normally wear to tango clubs?” Claire gestured at a sequined slip. “Do you think this would be too much?”

Lindsay eyed the garment appraisingly. “Just a little. Besides, they don’t call them tango clubs. Tango saloon is the correct expression.”

“Says who?”

“Tango dancers.”

“I think your information is a bit outdated. Besides, I like tango club better. It sounds…”

“Safer?”

“No, more modern.”
Claire finally found the word she was looking for, although there was no denying that Lindsay had seen right through to what was really on Claire’s mind.

“Relax, it’ll be fine. You’ll have loads of fun! I wish Jake would take me tango dancing.”

“Well, you could ask Alec for lessons.”

“Hey, that sounds like a good idea.”

“I was being sarcastic. I’m not going to ask him to give lessons to my friends. I barely know the guy.”

“Fine. Have it your way. But admit that you’re excited about this date. There’s nothing wrong with liking the guy, you know.”

“Okay, fine. I admit it.” Claire sighed. “Admitting it” was a euphemism of massive proportions. Ever since she had found Alec’s note under her door, she had been counting the minutes till Friday night, both exhilarated and terrified by Alec’s invitation.
             
“What if I fall flat on my face? I don’t even know why he invited me there….”

“Gee, let’s see….” Lindsay tapped her lips with her finger. “Maybe that’s because he likes you?”

“That’s not what I meant. I know he likes me. If he doesn’t, then he just goes around kissing women for no reason. Why did he have to invite me
to go
tango dancing?”

“
Mmmm
… Probably because he is a tango instructor.”

“I know that, but I told him that I don’t like dancing of any kind, especially tango.”

“Well, maybe he hopes to change your mind. Or maybe, he saw through your lies.”

“What do you mean?” Claire reddened.

“When are you going to get over that juvenile trauma of yours? So you got called a fat kid by some washed up dance instructor in a suburban dance school. So what? That was almost twenty years ago. Get over it already, and start dancing! And I don’t just mean literally. Life is a dance floor, and if you keep avoiding it, you’ll never get to experience anything - most of all, being in love.”

“When was I avoiding life?”

“Constantly. I’m not talking about your professional life,” Lindsay retracted. “There you take all the chances in the
world,
and you come out on top.”

“Thank you for noticing.” Claire rolled her eyes. If she had known that asking Lindsay to help her pick out an outfit for her date tomorrow night would involve a lecture, she would have gone on her own.

“But in your personal life, you always play it safe.” Lindsay threw up her hands. “You never take any chances.”

“I did take a chance in Miss Katz’s class.”

“That was too long ago to count.”

“It’s easy for you to say. You’ve always looked the way you look now. You didn’t have to spend years locked up in a chubby body. Yes, my memorable audition at Miss Katz’s class was a long time ago, but it doesn’t feel like that to me, and I just don’t want to get hurt again.”

“But Claire, you did get hurt.” Lindsay paused. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always gone for the seemingly perfect guy, and those types always end up stabbing you in the back. Like in high school when Peter Donovan asked you to the prom, you said no because he drove a motorcycle and looked like Jason Priestly. Instead, you opted for that nerd Jake
Gilhooly
, who spent the entire prom flirting with what’s her name…”

“Helena Carter. She was the class valedictorian.”

“Yes, that snotty bitch. So Jake
Gilhooly
danced with Helena, while you sat in the corner all by yourself, and Peter was off dancing with Amber. She was smart enough not to turn him down.”

“Well, so what? Jake and I went as friends. It was understood that there’d be no romance involved, so there were no hard feelings. And Helena’s date bailed on her at the last minute…”

“So it was okay for her to steal your date?” Lindsay stared Claire down. “Tell me right now that it didn’t hurt sitting there all by yourself with that pathetic jerk
Gilhooly
chatting up another girl.”

“What is the point of this? I thought you told me to let go of the past.”

“That is exactly the point. You always play it safe, and you always end up getting hurt, David being the most recent example.”

“He keeps sending me flowers, you know.”

“The nerve of that
slimeball
. Does he think that he can buy his way into forgiveness?”

“It wasn’t just David’s fault.” Claire halted. As embarrassing as it was, Lindsay was right. When it came to picking guys, she did always go for the safest bet, and more often than not, she got hurt because of it. “I didn’t really love him, and he must have sensed it, so I can’t really blame him. Sure, it hurts having been made a fool of, but I’m as much to blame as he is. He was just the first to slip, that’s all.” At the last bit, Claire’s voice broke off, and she worried that she just might lose her composure right there, on the shopping room floor of Bloomingdale’s.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so hard on you.” Lindsay’s voice was quiet with guilt. “Who am I to talk? I’ve got a big mouth, while I myself am guilty of the same offense. I dated that snake Matthew because I convinced myself that I loved him for his mind, while in reality I thought that he was too nerdy to dump me. Well, I certainly got my wakeup call with that one… Jake is the first guy I really took a chance on, and I have you to thank for it, Claire.”

“You’ve got an odd way of saying thanks.”

Lindsay lowered her eyes. “I got carried away, but I just want you to be happy, like I am now.”

“Thanks.” Claire nodded. “I know. Now if you could just help me pick out an outfit for tomorrow night, I’ll be all set.”

“How about this one?”

“Don’t you think the color is too much? I hardly ever wear red…” Claire dubiously examined the dress that Lindsay had selected. It had a pleated deep v-neckline and flared above-the-knee skirt. The red fabric was gorgeous. Claire just was not sure it would look gorgeous on her.

“The red is perfect because the dress cut is reserved.”

“I’d hardly call this neckline reserved!”

“Yes, but the sleeves are long, so that balances everything out. This dress says confident, open to adventure, yet in control.”

“I think you’re putting too much into it.”

“Just try it on, already. Trust me. Adrianna
Pappell
is an awesome designer. She really knows a woman’s body.”

When Claire stepped out of the dressing room cubicle to take a look in the larger mirror that hung in the dressing room corridor, she knew that Lindsay had been right. The dress looked stunning on her.
I look so hot;
it’
s going to drive Alec
wild
, Claire thought gleefully of her upcoming date, even daring to imagine for one brief instant how the dress’s flared skirt would swing about her body to the beat of tango.

“Now all your need are shoes and a bag. We can look for accessories downstairs. I’m thinking no more than two-inch heels for the pumps. You will, after all, be dancing.” Lindsay winked.

An hour later, Claire was approaching the lobby of her building. In her hand she carried shopping bags containing the fruits of her spree: dark navy patent pumps to complement the red dress and a matching patent navy clutch. She had spent much more than she had intended, but justified the expense by thinking that the shoes were sensible enough to be worn to the office and the red dress could be worn to the office holiday party.

It was going to be a wonderful evening tomorrow. She would leave work at five on the dot, get her hair and nails done and look absolutely stunning for Alec.

And maybe, just maybe she would brush up on her tango steps tonight, what little she remembered of them. These days you could find anything on the Internet, and Claire was fairly certain that she could find a quick tango tutorial on YouTube. Just to think that tomorrow, at this time, she would be sitting next to Alec, gazing into his eyes, flirting with him wittily. Well, at least Claire hoped that she would be able to conjure up a few entertaining remarks. Perhaps YouTube would have a tutorial on flirting as well.

Claire checked her mail and was about to head for the elevator when she heard footsteps in the hallway accompanied by a familiar laugh. There was no mistaking who the owner of that laugh was. Her heart had jumped too often to its sound for her to forget.
Alec
.

What was she to do? The logical thing would be to come out and greet him, but how was she to explain the packages in her hands? The last thing she wanted was for Alec to think that she had gone out on a shopping spree for their date tomorrow, even
though that was exactly what she had done. On the other hand, he might pop into the mailroom, and how would she explain her hiding there? She had to make a decision quickly.

Claire’s indecision was terminated when she heard another voice intermingled with Alec’s: a woman’s voice. How dumb of her it was
to
think that Alec was alone. After all, only crazy people laughed by themselves.

Claire clutched her mail to her chest, hoping that Alec and his companion would pass the mailroom without stopping by. Her wish was granted, and Claire exhaled a tiny sigh of relief.

When Claire heard the voices trailing off down the hallway, she tiptoed to the edge of the mailroom and peeked from behind the wall, immediately wishing she had not. She really did not need to see Alec wrapping his arm around some random girl. Claire squinted, praying that neither Alec nor his companion would sense her stare. On second glance, it was not just some random girl. Claire had seen her with Alec before: Sabina or
Faina
, or some such name? Claire was too flustered to attempt remembering her rival’s last name. Well, fair was
fair,
and Sabina had met Alec well before Claire, so she had first dibs, which pretty much put the kaput on Claire’s plans for tomorrow night.

“What do you mean you’re not going to get your hair and nails done?” Lindsay fumed on the other end of the line. “I hate going to those places by myself.”

Claire lowered her voice, regretting not having made the call on her cell phone. She did not have much privacy at her desk.

“I just can’t. I have too much work to do for the
Castelan
exhibition. I have to stay late tonight.”

“You’re cancelling your date with Alec, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not.” Technically, this was true. Claire had not called off her evening with Alec because she still did not have his phone number, and after what she had seen yesterday, she did not think she owed him any explanations. She simply planned to skip their date by staying late at the office.

“Then come out and get your nails done with me. It only takes forty minutes, tops. It’s only three o’clock now. There’s still a chance you’ll finish up on time. Besides, they’ll charge me a late cancellation fee if you don’t show up. It’s not some run of the mill parlor we’re going to – it’s a first-grade spa.”

Claire bit her lip. She had forgotten all about the late fees. Just because she was a klutz when it came to dating did not mean that Lindsay had to pay the price.

“I’ll be there. I’ll just take my work home for the weekend.”

“Good. I’ll see you there.”

At five o’clock sharp, Claire rose from behind her desk.

“Have a great time tonight.” Jake winked.

“How do you know about,” Claire stopped herself short. “Are you telling me that now that you’re dating my friend I have no privacy?”

“Am I not your friend?” Jake stuck out his lower lip, making puppy eyes. “And here I was thinking we were so close.”

“You won’t get any pity out of me, Mister.” Claire made a mental note to read Lindsay the riot act. Sure she and Jake were in love, but that did not mean that Lindsay had to share every detail of Claire’s love life, correction, absence of love life, with her boyfriend.

“I expect a full report on Monday.” Jake grinned. “I always thought that red was your color.”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.” Claire shook her head. Speaking of red, she would have to return the dress over the weekend. She could not possibly wear it now.

“I told you you’d get out of the office on time.” Lindsay beamed at Claire.

“You were right. The
Castelan
exhibition is finally planned.” At least this part was true. Claire had been working her tail off for the event, and now all the exhibits on loan were confirmed, and the exhibition format was finalized. Just this morning, the event date had been set to six months from today, and now, the rest of the planning was in the hands of Fink’s public relations department. There would be one missing piece, however: instead of the original of
Castelan’s
photo by his building, there would be a copy. Claire had explained to her boss and everyone concerned at the Fink Corporation that the owner
was not willing to lend the original photograph, and after much discussion, all parties agreed not to pursue the subject any further.