Flirting With Temptation (7 page)

Babette turned her shocked gasp into a cough. Jeff could be classified tons of ways, but quiet and reserved weren’t on the list. And insecure around females? Never.

“I had even heard rumors from some of my friends in Atlanta that he was known as something of a playboy there. But those were just rumors. Or maybe something had happened to change that, but I didn’t meet a playboy. I met a sensitive guy, who didn’t really seem all that keen to even talk to women. He was ignoring practically all of us there, and that fascinated me even more.” She lifted a shoulder in a mini-shrug. “He intrigued me so much that I simply had to find a way to be with him.”

Babette cleared her throat and prayed she didn’t look as uncomfortable as she felt. “How did you do that?”

Kitty smiled. “Basically, I wouldn’t leave him alone. I found out which events he was scheduled to attend, learned what places he typically frequented when he came to town, found out that he lived in Destin and made a trip or two down there, then casually ran into him there, and each time, we chatted a little more, and I basically let him know that I was quite captivated by him. It took a while, but eventually, he asked me out to dinner, and then we started dating.”

Jeff had been engaged to a stalker.

“After that, we dated regularly and he really came out of his shell, if you know what I mean. I started seeing that playboy that my friends had told me about, but it didn’t turn me off at all. Quite the opposite, because while he had the charm of a player, he still only had eyes for me. Probably hard to understand . . .”

“Not at all,” Babette said, cutting Kitty off as politely as she could manage. She didn’t want, or need, to hear any more. She knew Kitty had finally seen the real Jeff Eubanks when they started dating, though Babette couldn’t fathom why she hadn’t seen that in the beginning. That was something to concentrate on when she met with him about Kitty, for sure.

“After a couple of months of dating, then we were,” she paused, and her brows lifted a little as she added, “intimate. I’m assuming you need to know that, that we had a sexual relationship.”

Babette tried not to let the mention of their “intimacy” sting too much. “Two months?” she asked, concentrating on the part that stood out. Kitty had waited two entire months before sleeping with Jeff. And then Babette spouted the next obvious question—“Why?”

“Why did I sleep with him?” Kitty asked, undoubtedly surprised at the question.

Babette gathered her composure. “No, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I guess it just seems a little long to wait in this day and age, you know.” Did that sound like a question of merit? Because Babette needed it to, and she also needed to find out how any woman could have waited two whole months without getting hot and heated with Jeff.

“Oh,” Kitty said, then laughed. “Well, it wasn’t easy, believe me. I mean, he’s extremely desirable, and he definitely has his share and then some of sexual appeal, but that’s just a rule I’ve never broken.”

“What rule?”

“How long I date a guy before I sleep with him. The relationship has to last at least two months before I go to bed with a guy, because I really don’t have any desire for casual sex. If I sleep with someone, then it’s because we’re making love, not merely having sex, you know? Two months seems to be the amount of time I need to make that decision, whether it’s real love, or merely lust. And when we finally got together, it was definitely making love.”

Babette’s stomach churned. Two months she’d waited. Real love they’d made. Babette had a rule about sleeping with guys as well, but hers didn’t seem nearly as conservative anymore. She’d thought the third date should be the deciding factor. But with Jeff, she’d broken even that rule and somehow, at the end of date one, found herself stark naked and panting without any clear-cut reason about why she’d thrown her pitiful excuse for a rule right out the window. Something about being with Jeff made her unequivocally lose her senses. And her panties.

She didn’t want to hear anymore about Jeff and Kitty’s sex life, or rather, their “making love” life. “Okay, let’s move on to the breakup. You said you left with Samuel Farraday. Can you tell me exactly what happened? Did you and your fiancé argue over Farraday, and then you left, or was it something else?”

Kitty’s hair shimmered as she shook her head. “I actually wish it had been something like that, but the truth is I never even told Jeff I’d seen Samuel—well, not verbally, anyway. I told him in the note I left.”

“You broke your engagement with a note?” Babette did her damnedest to control how appalled she was over Kitty’s lack of breakup finesse.

“It was stupid,” Kitty said, vocalizing Babette’s sentiment.

“Well, I’ll do my best to see if I can help, and if the damage is irreparable, I’ll let you know.” She figured she should throw that out there, since she couldn’t imagine any guy in their right mind—particularly Jeff—going back to a woman who broke their engagement via a Dear John letter. But the chance of getting rid of that last student loan and getting a free beach vacation to boot was worth giving it a shot.

“I think I’ve got everything I need,” she said, but then another question tickled the back of her brain, and she couldn’t resist asking. “Wait, one more thing. When did the two of you start dating? And how long did it last?”

“That golf tournament was the first week of August last year,” Kitty said, “and we ended our engagement a month ago, or rather, I ended it when I left with Samuel Farraday.”

The first week of August last year would have been . . . the week after he and Babette had last spoken. Basically, he went from Babette’s bed to Kitty’s. Well, after two months of dating, that is.

Two months. Babette had barely made it inside his condo after their first date before she was naked and on top of him. As a matter of fact, their first time they hadn’t even made it to the bed and had proceeded to have sex against his apartment door, something she thought had been exhilarating and magical at the time. Now, after Kitty’s “waiting until we were making love” sentiment, it felt rather cheap.

“Do you need any additional information?” Kitty asked, unaware of the turmoil her little proclamation had created in Babette.

Again, Babette gathered her composure. She needed this woman’s business. She needed the Love Doctor to succeed and keep her record at a hundred percent. And she needed to stop comparing her own relationship with Jeff to Kitty’s.

Like that was going to happen.

Anyway, she would do what she was supposed to do, attempt to reunite Kitty with Jeff and, if she could pull it off, keep Kitty’s money in her bank account. “Ms. Carelle, I’d love to help you resolve things with your fiancé.” She slid another sheet of paper toward Kitty. “If you’ll provide his pertinent information, I can get started tomorrow.”

“Wonderful,” Kitty said. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. I do love him. I do. I just didn’t realize how much until I lost him. He’s so passionate, so loving,” she continued, as she quickly filled out the information, basically his address, brief description of appearance and general background, on the page. “There. I feel better already.”

Babette glanced at the check and all the pretty zeroes on it. “Well, I plan to have you feeling even better soon, when I reunite you two,” she said confidently, accepting the information sheet from Kitty as the woman stood.

“Oh, trust me. If you can get me another chance with him, I’ll make sure to treat him right this time forever. I only wish it hadn’t taken losing him to realize how special he is.” Digging for her car keys in her bag, Kitty completely missed Babette’s thick swallow, or the tiny twitch beside her eye that always happened when she fought tears. She’d already resolved herself to the task of getting Jeff back with his ex-fiancée and prettying up her bank account in the process. But there was something about the words Kitty had said . . .

“I only wish it hadn’t taken losing him to realize how special he is.”

“I mean, he’s perfect,” Kitty continued, unknowingly twisting the knife. “Sexy and spontaneous and thoughtful and kind. The sex, well, it was the best I ever had, but he’s also so warm and emotional, the kind of guy that you could spend your life with. I could never, ever find another man as perfect as Jeff.”

“Sure you can,” Babette mumbled, her throat parchment dry.

“What?”

Babette looked up from the paper, blinked away the surge of emotions that totally sideswiped her, and smiled. She needed this job. She needed to pay off that student loan. She needed to find out how in heaven’s name this high-society feline had managed to capture—and break—Jeff’s playboy heart. “I said,” she quickly improvised, “that I have the perfect plan.”

Kitty cocked a suspicious blond brow, but then seemed to accept Babette’s assured smile as genuine. “Wonderful. You’ll keep me posted of how things progress in Destin, then?”

“You can count on it. And you have all of my contact information on the business card, if you need me while I’m there.” Leading the way, Babette crossed the room, opened the door, then nodded as Kitty left, walking purposefully as though she’d just taken care of a big business deal. Then again, she had. Kitty wanted Jeff back, and Babette had promised to bring him to her.

Jeff. To another woman. To Kitty Carelle.

“Can I really do this?” she asked, snapping the door closed then jumping when it promptly smacked her in the back.

“Who does she want you to find?” Granny Gert asked, bustling through the doorway in full I’ve-gotta-know mode. “Is it Jeff?”

“You
knew
it would be. I knew it too.”

“She’s wanting you to talk him into not only getting back with her, but marrying her! You, of all people.”

“She has no idea that we dated, or whatever it was.”

“It was more than merely dating, and you know it, child. Why you let that one go without a fight is beyond me.”

“Go on, tell me how you really feel. Don’t hold back.”

Granny’s cheeks flushed guiltily. “Goodness, I’m sorry. My gumption got the best of me.”

“Well, I wish it’d got the best of me back then,” Babette whispered. Listening to Kitty talk about how she’d lost the perfect guy hit way too close to home. From everything Kitty said, the limitations of Babette’s relationship with Jeff seemed clear: they’d been sex partners, while he and Kitty had been lovers. Babette and Jeff had merely got together, quite often, and burned up the sheets. Or the floor. Or the hallway. Or wherever they happened to be when lust got the best of them. Kitty, on the other hand, had Jeff’s ring on her finger when she threw it all away.

Babette couldn’t understand how Kitty convinced him that he should be in it for the long haul, for the whole kit and caboodle, when Babette had never even been able to get him to say that they were dating exclusively. Not that she tried. But what did Kitty Carelle have that she didn’t?

Class. Polish. Elegance. Style. Panache.

Babette’s throat tightened, and she wished so
many
descriptions didn’t come to mind.

“The sex, well, it was the best I ever had.”
Babette could make the same comment . . . about the same man.

A large oval mirror hung on the living room wall, and Babette pivoted to take in her reflection. She squinted as she studied her face, still a tad flushed from her meeting with Kitty. She’d heard there were two kinds of women in the world, those who captured men’s hearts with their elegance and class, and those who were merely the playthings they used along the way—until they got what they really wanted.

Her skin grew hot. She was
not
merely a plaything. For Jeff, or anyone else. And she had everything to offer that Kitty did. More. If she’d have wanted to settle down with one guy, she could have. But that hadn’t been what she wanted. She blinked. It wasn’t what she’d wanted before, but she had found some stability with her job, and she rather liked it. Maybe now was the time to find stability in a relationship too. But first she had to cross the humongous obstacle of getting her ex back with his.

No pressure.

She reached back, unclipped the barrette, tossed it on the couch and let her hair fall free.

“Uh-oh,” Granny said, moving behind Babette to dash a glance at her in the mirror. She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth then shrugged. “Something big is happening, so you want a new ‘do’, right? Want me to call Cecile and see if she can work you in?”

Babette smiled at Granny Gert’s perceptiveness. They really were alike, after all. “I told Kitty I’d leave tomorrow, so tell Cecile that I’ll pay her double if she can squeeze me in late tonight or early tomorrow morning.”

Granny picked up the phone and dialed the number. “Cecile? It’s Gertrude. . . . I’m fine. Listen, Babette’s got a new job that’s going to put her working with an, um, young man from her past. She needs a new”—Granny stopped talking and started nodding—“That’s right, Cecile. I don’t know if I can tell you that or not. Hold on.”

“She wants to know which young man,” Granny relayed. Cecile followed the traditional hairstylist motto of having to know everything about her clients and everyone else in town.

“You can tell her,” Babette said, holding her hair up as she tried to envision what type of look she wanted. The entire three years she’d dated Jeff he’d been specific about what he liked best, and because of that, Babette had never given it to him. It’d been a little game they had played, and she’d enjoyed having fun with him. He’d seemed to like the fact that he couldn’t tell her what to do, couldn’t control what she did. In fact, he’d claimed he loved her impulsiveness, her spontaneity and lust for life.

Kitty had done the opposite during her “worshipping him” stage and had given him everything he wanted.

Granny Gert’s chatting swiftly converted from calm and casual to nonstop and excited. “Yes, that’s him,” she rattled. “Uh-huh, Clarise’s brother-in-law. Yeah, they did date for quite a while, three years, on and off. No, I’m still not real certain why things ended. She doesn’t talk about stuff like that all that much. Clarise always told me everything, but Babette’s her own person, you know. Strong-willed, that’s what we always said about her when she was little. And she tends to keep some things to herself. Yeah, the important stuff,” Granny said, laughing, while Babette crossed her arms.