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Authors: Judy Christenberry

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The phone rang again.

“This has to be Aunt Lilly. I haven’t heard from her yet,” she said with a sigh.

“Darling Elise, this is Aunt Lilly,” the answering machine said as if on cue. “I just heard the news—and I hear he’s absolutely delicious. Leave it to you to only choose the best. I can’t wait to meet him. Give him a kiss for me. Bye.”

“I think I like Aunt Lilly,” James said, and slid closer to her on the sofa.

Elise stiff-armed him. “Don’t get carried away. There’s no one here to convince.” She closed her eyes. “I need time to think!”

When she felt movement, she snapped her eyes open, afraid James was ignoring her warning. Instead, he’d stood as if he was leaving.

“What’s to think about, Elise? Your plan is working. And I promise to keep away from all other women until after the wedding, so there won’t be any more pictures in the paper.”

She closed her eyes again. His words, “until after the wedding,” hurt almost as much as the picture had. She’d studied him with the blonde in his embrace. It was clear that the woman meant something to him. She’d be an idiot to fall for the line that she was just a friend. The look of contentment on the woman’s face alone told of a deeper relationship, whether he knew it or not.

And she believed he did.

Body language was a lot more truthful than words.

But unless she wanted to upset the entire family, she’d take his offer of two weeks of monogamy. Then, when that time period was up, she’d have to walk away—without her heart broken, she hoped.

With an exhausted sigh, she said, “Okay, fine, we’ll keep the agreement, though I don’t know why it matters to you.” She glared at him.

He shrugged. “A job’s a job.”

Of course, the money. At least about that he was honest.

“Of course. Fine. I’ll call you when I have the details about the wedding. Give me your address. My sister Sharon will need it. She’s going to send you a wedding invitation.” She picked up a pen and notepad, and waited.

He opened his mouth and then closed it again.

“What’s the matter? Afraid I’ll stalk you when this is over? Afraid I don’t know the difference between playacting and the real thing? I can assure you, Mr. Dillon, that I—

He pulled her up into his arms and covered her lips with his. When she tried to protest, he deepened the kiss, and Elise melted into his embrace, her arms going around his neck. He lifted his mouth and stared at her. Then, before she could protest—as she assured herself later she had intended to do—he kissed her again.

The man had major talent in the kissing department. She’d thought his acting was good, but his kissing was even better. So good, in fact, she forgot
all about their pretense, his lies, the truth about their engagement. All she could think about was him.

When he finally ended the kiss, she stared at him as he picked up the pad and pen and quickly wrote something down. Then he leaned over and kissed her briefly.

“I’ll call you tonight,” he whispered, then walked out the door.

Oh mercy, she was in big trouble.

 

“D
ARLING, YOU NEVER
called me back,” her mother complained later over the phone.

“Oh, hello, Mother. I’m sorry. James was here and I waited until he left, but then I got busy with some chores and forgot.”

“Well, that’s not very flattering, dear. Can James come to dinner Wednesday night? We’re dying to meet him.”

“Oh, Mother, let’s not. Things are going to be so hectic between now and the wedding. You’ll meet him then. After the wedding, we’ll have time to visit.”

After the wedding, she’d tell her mother he’d gotten a role in Hollywood and had to leave. Her mother wouldn’t want to stand in the way of his career advancement.

“We’ll keep it simple, dear. Just the four of us. You certainly can’t get engaged without introducing him to your father and me. He’ll need to ask your father’s permission, of course. Now, tell me what his favorite foods are. I want him to feel welcome.”

“Mother, I—”

“I insist.”

“Okay, fine. His favorite foods are—” She thought frantically. Then, with a smile, she said, “His favorite foods are cabbage and boiled potatoes.”

“But, dear, none of us like that,” her mother protested.

“I know,” Elise agreed. With any luck, she figured James wouldn’t, either.

Chapter Eight

The three friends sat at their usual table at The Prickly Pear.

“So, what happened with James?” Daisy asked.

Elise hadn’t spoken with her friends since yesterday morning when they’d shown her the picture of James in the paper. “We’re still pretending.”

Phoebe leaned forward. “One of the chapters in that book says you should avoid lies.”

Though still unnerved by the events of yesterday, Elise raised her eyebrows and looked Phoebe directly in the eye. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not looking for a husband, isn’t it?”

Phoebe grinned. “I guess so.”

“Are you okay?” Daisy asked.

“Sure,” Elise said. “In fact, I’m better than okay. I even managed to find another candidate for the Daddy job.”

Daisy looked wary, but Phoebe was pleased.

“All right! Way to go, Elise.”

“Not James, right?” Daisy asked. “It’s someone else?”

“Of course, not James! He—he’s too popular.”
She thought of Sandy, the woman in the picture. Definitely too popular.

“Hey, I thought you and James were going to the movies tonight. Isn’t that what you told me?” Phoebe suddenly asked.

“I canceled.” She didn’t add any details. Even to her friends she couldn’t confess how close she’d come to losing all objectivity about James. There would be no more “research” evenings.

Except, of course, for Wednesday night when she had to take him to dinner at her parents’.

“Okay, so tell us about the new candidate,” Phoebe ordered after a slight pause. “Is he handsome?”

“Not like James,” she said without thinking. Then she hurriedly added, “I mean, he’s not dark, he’s a blonde.”

“Blonde? Surfer type?” Daisy asked.

“No, not at all. He’s a professor in the History Department. I thought about how I found James and I decided to check out the other departments. Not only is Dave one of the most popular history professors, but he’s writing a book,” Elise said, looking at Daisy, hoping for a positive reaction.

“Really?” Daisy asked, her eyes lighting up. “So, he’s not all muscle.”

Phoebe gave Elise an encouraging smile before saying to Daisy, “And you can’t complain he puts his hands in people’s mouths.”

“True. And college professors don’t have as demanding schedules as businessmen. He’d have more time for family,” Daisy speculated. “When do I meet him?”

“Tonight. He promised to drop by. I thought it might be easier to meet him that way instead of on a blind date.”

“That’s great,” Daisy agreed. “I hate blind dates.”

“Oh, look, there’s Frannie—” Phoebe pointed before waving at the red-haired figure in a clashing red sweater and black clam-diggers.

Frannie beamed at them and hurried over. “Hi! I was hoping I’d run into the three of you. I was feeling a little lonesome tonight, after our fun weekend.”

“Join us, Frannie,” Elise offered, pulling out the fourth chair.

“Have you ordered yet?” Frannie asked, sitting down and picking up a menu at the same time.

“Not yet. George went to get our drinks, but he’ll be back in a minute.” Elise, sitting facing the door, kept watching for Dave, the history professor.

That’s why she immediately saw the two men who entered. She knew both of them. James Dillon and Bill White. By the way they stood at the door, their gazes sweeping the room, she knew they were looking for someone in particular. She didn’t wave.

They found her, anyway, and headed across the room.

Frannie, looking up from the menu, noticed Bill at once. “Look who’s here,” she whispered fiercely. She half rose in her chair. “Yoo-hoo, Bill. Hello!”

Bill’s cheeks turned bright red and he gave a half wave. James didn’t even smile, his gaze fixed on Elise.

“James is with Bill,” Daisy said. “Did you know he was coming?”

Elise shook her head.

“Evening, ladies,” James said, having reached the table. “Mind if Bill and I join you?”

“Of course not,” Phoebe said, standing. “We’ll just need to pull over that empty table and put it with this one. Frannie, why don’t you move down here with me, and they can add a table.”

Elise almost smiled at Frannie’s eager response. Her move would put her next to one of the men. Elise would be pleased if it was James, but probably Frannie would make sure it was Bill.

James helped move the other table over. Then he pulled up a chair next to Elise.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered fiercely. She’d told him last night there would be no more “research” evenings.

“I stopped by to talk to Bill, and he suggested we eat here,” he said, smiling slightly, daring her to accuse him of lying.

She glared at him. “And why did you stop by to talk to Bill?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, Elise, but I read a police report about thefts in the neighborhood, and I thought I should let Bill know, so he could be on the alert.”

Frannie had been listening. “Thefts? Oh, no. I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

Bill, having sat down beside Frannie, shook his head. “I don’t think we’re in any danger. The lighting helps deter crime.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Phoebe agreed.

“And it helps that all the men in our units are big
and strong,” Frannie said with fluttering lashes and a sideways look at Bill.

“Elise?”

Elise whirled around, embarrassed to discover Dave Haskell standing beside her. She’d gotten so distracted by James’s arrival, she’d forgotten to watch for Daisy’s potential date.

“Oh, Dave, I’m glad you found us. Please join us,” she said at once, smiling as she stood and welcomed him.

James stood beside her, frowning. “Hello, I’m James Dillon, Elise’s fiancé.” He stuck out his hand.

Dave looked at Elise in surprise, but shook James’s hand. “Dave Haskell.”

Elise quickly introduced the rest of the table, saving Daisy until last. Dave’s smile widened slightly as he shook her hand. Then he scooted his chair right next to her.

Elise and Phoebe exchanged a look of triumph.

“Is he the one?” James whispered in her ear.

She drew away from him even as she shivered. “What do you mean?”

“Did you invite him for Daisy? To father her child?”

The man had the memory of an elephant. With a slight nod, she turned to Dave. “How did your classes go today?”

“Fine. My freshman class actually stayed awake today,” the man said, smiling at Daisy. “It was one of my good days.”

Bill looked at Dave. “You teach at the university with Elise?”

“Well, not in the same department. I teach History and she teaches French.”

Bill nodded. “Then you must know James, too. He’s in the Drama Department.”

 

F
OR THE FIRST TIME
that night, James thought his brilliant idea to talk Bill into coming with him to The Prickly Pear wasn’t so brilliant.

Dave was staring at him.

“ASU is big, Bill. We don’t all know each other,” James hurriedly said.

“He’s right,” Dave said. “I’ve heard of a Bobby Dillon in the Drama Department, but I haven’t actually met him. Any kin?”

Before James could answer, Elise said, “That’s James’s stage name.”

Dave nodded.

George arrived with the three women’s drinks. “Looks like the party has grown. Can I get drinks for anyone else?”

As they went around the table, James leaned closer to Elise. “I assume that’s diet cola?”

She nodded. “Yes, and don’t get near it. I don’t want another cola bath.”

“A little too much excitement for you?” he asked.

She glared at him.

“And you, sir?” George asked, looking at James.

“I’ll have a cup of coffee.”

“Fine. I’ll be right back with your drinks and then I’ll take your orders.”

James wasn’t in any rush. Now that disaster had been avoided with the newcomer, he wanted to pro
long the evening. He was pretty sure Elise wouldn’t ask him to go back to her apartment with her.

“About Wednesday night—” he began, leaning closer to her again just so he could smell her perfume.

“Say, James,” Dave said at the same time, “how long have you been at the university?”

James was forced to deal with Dave’s question, but he hadn’t come tonight to discuss his brother’s life. He wanted to talk to Elise.

“Uh, I came back last year.”

“Came back?”

James sighed. “I worked for a couple of years before I came back to get my Masters. Have you visited Daisy’s shop?” Okay, so his change of subject wasn’t smooth, but he didn’t want to answer the man’s questions. And he didn’t like the way the guy kept looking at Elise.

He was supposed to be concentrating on Daisy.

He caught a look from Phoebe that said she could read him like a book. He sure hoped not.

The rest of the evening, Dave did concentrate on Daisy. But it didn’t encourage Elise to concentrate on James. In fact, she did her best to ignore him. But he hung in there. He intended to convince her they needed more time together to make their story believable.

“Did you and Phoebe and Daisy drive over together?” he asked as they were getting ready to leave.

“Yes.”

“Let me drive you home. I have a couple of questions I need to ask you.” All he’d have to do if she
agreed was come up with some questions. He could do that.

“I’ll be able to answer them on the way to my parents’ house on Wednesday. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

“Of course not. I’m looking forward to it. But that’s why I need my questions answered.”

“Elise, are you ready?” Phoebe asked.

“I’m taking her home,” James immediately said.

“Yes, I’m ready,” Elise said to Phoebe. “I’m going with you and Daisy.”

Daisy was talking quietly to Dave, so Phoebe came around the table to where James and Elise stood. “Should we stall?” she whispered.

“We could stage an argument to give them more time,” James suggested. “Elise is really good with arguments.”

She glared at him.

Phoebe chuckled. “Maybe she’s been inspired.”

“Oh, I have,” Elise said fervently. “And while we’re waiting, I remember something I need to tell you.”

“Oh?” he asked warily, not trusting the glint in her eyes.

“Yes. Daddy is expecting to speak with you privately.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Why, for you to ask for my hand in marriage, of course. Unless you’ve changed your mind.” Then she sailed out the door, followed by a chuckling Phoebe.

James was still standing there, in shock, when Daisy told him goodbye.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. Oh, and give Elise a message for me.”

“Yes?”

“Tell her I’ll be ready. I haven’t changed my mind,” he said with a grim smile. “She’ll know what I mean.”

 

H
E COULDN’T BELIEVE
he was nervous.

Even when he’d proposed to Sylvia, he hadn’t sweated.

Now, he felt as if he must have lost five pounds on the drive to pick up Elise. For so long, he’d depended on his money and his power to pave the way for him. But neither Elise nor her parents knew anything about those things in connection to him.

In their minds, he was just a guy—a guy with a very low-paying job, asking to marry their daughter.

He wondered how Bobby would ever find the courage to ask Sandy’s parents. James was having difficulty with it, even though it was only a pretense.

Elise had suggested she meet him at her parents’, but he’d vetoed that idea. He wasn’t about to arrive alone. When he knocked on her apartment door, she opened it, and he took a deep breath.

She was wearing green again.

Without thinking, he reached for her, eager to greet her with a kiss.

She backed away.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice husky. At least when they got to her parents’, she couldn’t refuse to let him touch her.

“Yes.” She reached for a small handbag on the
lamp table. Then she led the way out of her apartment.

She kept a determined silence, only answering in monosyllables any question he asked.

Finally, he gave up talking about their relationship and switched to Daisy’s. A topic she couldn’t resist. “How are things going with Dave and Daisy?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t seem enthusiastic, but she hasn’t said there’s anything wrong with him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for the dentist, she had a list of his faults. She hasn’t done that with Dave. All she’s said is there’s no spark.”

Like there was between them. A spark he’d never felt before. A flame that burned inside him, unnoticed until he got near Elise, when it became a bonfire.

“Don’t you think that’s a problem?”

“Of course, it’s a problem!” Elise snapped. “But I don’t know what to do about it. How can you predict when—when that spark will appear? It’s not rational!”

“I know what you mean,” he agreed. Sometimes it was damn inconvenient.

“So, are you still looking for someone else?” he finally asked.

“Of course. We want Daisy to be happy.”

“What does that book say?”

“Keep your eyes open.”

The advice sounded cryptic to James. “What does that mean?”

“Daisy’s having a showing this evening at her shop. An artist who’s become very popular is going to be there with some of his new paintings. Phoebe’s
going. She figures there might be some men there alone.”

“So she’ll walk up to them and ask if they want to be a daddy?” he asked, smiling as he imagined that scenario.

“No, of course not!”

“Good, because looking at Phoebe, they might volunteer before she can point out Daisy.”

“You think Phoebe’s beautiful?”

Uh-oh. He heard something in Elise’s voice that told him he’d made a mistake. She couldn’t be jealous, could she? “No more than you or Daisy,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual.

“Then why—”

“Sweetheart, if any of you come on to a man, he’s not going to start looking around for another woman. He’s going to thank his lucky stars and grab you.” His imagination was going crazy. He cleared his throat. “So don’t go asking any other men to be a daddy, okay?”

“I don’t intend to. But you’re wrong. A mention of future children tends to make a man back away. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.” She stared straight ahead.

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