I Waxed My Legs for This? (11 page)

“Carrie?”

She turned. “Oh, Mrs...?” She was embarrassed she couldn’t remember the lady’s name, though her face seemed familiar.

“Mrs. Marsh,” the woman supplied, then added, “We met at Encore.”

Mrs. Marsh. Carrie could have kicked herself. The elderly lady was one of their regulars. It just went to show how flustered Jack was making her feel. “Mrs. Marsh. Of course.”

The woman tugged at an older gentleman’s sleeve and said, “This is my husband, Clarence.” Clarence Marsh—Judge Clarence Marsh? Carrie sighed.

“Your Honor,” she said.

The older man, who looked more like Santa Claus than a judge, let out a merry chuckle that matched his look perfectly. “Oh, my dear, don’t you
Your Honor
me here. Here I’m just Clarence. Unless you’re Harriet then I’m
My Dear
, if she’s in a good mood, and
Oh, You
, if she’s not.”

“Oh, you. I’m always in a good mood,” Mrs. Marsh humphed. Realizing what she said, she blushed. “Well, I am.”

“Yes, dear,” Clarence said meekly.

Mrs. Marsh gave him the evil eye and then turned those eyes on Jack. “And you must be Carrie’s friend that Eloise was talking about?”

Jack shot her a look. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

What had Eloise said to Mrs. Marsh? 

“Just a friend,” Carrie emphasized.

“Yes, dear, I remember Eloise talking about how much of a friend he was when I asked where you were last week. Maybe I can offer you a bit of advice today, from someone who has had to deal with a lawyer for forty some odd years.”

“Ma’am?” Carrie asked, praying the woman wouldn’t say anything to give Jack any ideas.

He kept looking at her as if he had plenty of ideas of his own and didn’t need a lick of help.

“Keep them guessing. Lawyers are an orderly lot. They like to have all the facts so they can manipulate them. If you keep them guessing—hold onto some things, keep them for yourself, at least for a little while—you’ll have an edge.”

Carrie was an expert at keeping things to herself.

The thought of holding onto those thoughts, those feelings made her overwhelmingly sad. “I’ll keep that in mind. If you’ll excuse us, we were just heading for the buffet,” Carrie said, though she had little appetite for food.

“Oh, you two run along. And remember, if you need someone to perform your ceremony, Clarence would be happy to do it.”

“Oh, that I would, Jack my boy. When did you say it was?” he asked all three of them.

All three answered at once.

“We didn’t,” Jack said.

“There isn’t one,” Carrie said.

“Soon,” Mrs. Marsh said with a knowing wink at Carrie. She took her husband’s arm and led him away as Carrie beat her retreat to the buffet table, praying Jack wasn’t following.

“Just what was Eloise saying to of Mrs. Marsh?” Jack was smiling in a way that said he thought the entire situation was funny.

Funny wasn’t the word Carrie would use to describe it. “I have no idea, but you can be sure I’ll find out. She was probably just saying what a good time we had on the island.”

Carrie was going to kill her boss—no, her partner.

Whatever Eloise had said, it left Mrs. Marsh with the impression that she and Jack were more than friends.

They weren’t.

“We did have a good time,” Jack agreed.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “My favorite day was the one we spent in bed. The only flaw I found was one day wasn’t enough.”

“I’VE TOTALLY forgotten.” Carrie gulped, trying to indeed forget.

The look in Jack’s eyes said he remembered more than that. And as he dragged Carrie into the coatroom, she realized her mistake. “I mean, it was nice, but that’s not what our relationship is about.”

“Isn’t it?” Jack asked, shutting the door.

“No,” she said firmly, more to convince herself than Jack.

“Why don’t you remind me just what our relationship is about,” he said, backing her against the now closed door.

“We’re friends,” she tried.

He nibbled on her earlobe.

“Friends,” he echoed in between bites.

“Good friends,” she added.

His lips moved from their in-depth study of her earlobes and Carrie breathed a sigh of relief only to suck it back in as Jack began kissing her neck and shoulders.

“You were saying?” he asked.

“Ah...” Carrie couldn’t think.

“
Friends
,” he prompted. “Good friends even.”

“Oh, yes. Good friends. That’s what we are.”

“I agree,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re being reasonable.” His lips continued taunting her and now his hands joined in the party, slowly skimming the sheer fabric of her dress. “Uh, Jack, I don’t think this is what most good friends do.”

“No?”

“No.”

“I think if more friends did this, then their friendships would be better off,” he assured her, as he continued touching her in decidedly not-just-friendly ways.

“I think this gets in the way of a friendship,” Carrie said, trying to keep her voice even and stem the tide of feelings that were flooding through her body, begging her to reach out and touch him.

“I think it enhances it.”

“Seems we’re at a stalemate,” Carrie declared.

“Seems so,” he said, agreeably.

“Maybe we should cool this off then?” If they didn’t, Carrie was very much concerned that she might spontaneously combust.

“That’s one idea,” Jack whispered in her ear. “Another approach might be to heat things up.”

“Ah, Jack, I don’t think that would be wise. We’re at a retirement party.”

“I can think of nothing I’d enjoy more than to retire somewhere quieter with you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Carrie said desperately.

“What did you mean, Care?”

“Ah.” Carrie tried to think, tried to remember just what her point was, but she didn’t have a clue.

“I missed you,” Jack murmured.

“I’m right here.”

“Carrie, I—”

What he was going to say was lost when someone knocked at the door.

“Who is it?” Jack barked.

Carrie slapped at his hands and tried to disengage them so she could straighten her dress. “Ah, Jack, we’re in a coatroom. I think maybe whoever is at the door might be more interested in a coat than in us.”

“Oh.” Despite the fact that they were in the closet, Jack didn’t look very pleased at being disturbed. He pulled his arm, and then stopped abruptly.

There was another, louder knock on the door and Carrie pushed at Jack’s hand again.

“Get it out,” she demanded.

“I’m stuck.”

“Stuck?”

“I think my cuff link is caught on your underwear,” he explained.

Lace panties.

Carrie groaned. Lace panties were going to be her downfall.

“Here,” she said, pulling at the panties, which seemed to be glued to Jack’s shirt. The lacy spandex undies just stretched out and gave no indication of loosening their hold.

“Take the things off,” Jack whispered.

Another knock.

What else was there to do? Carrie inched the offending panties down her legs, while Jack, and his arm, followed. As she stepped out of them, he chuckled. When she saw what was at his eye level, what he was staring at, she smacked him. “That will be enough of that.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said, a promise of things to come in his voice.

He stood and tucked his hand, the one with the panties attached, into his pocket as Carrie straightened her dress. The door handle twisted. “Let’s go.”

Slowly she opened the door. “Oh, I’m so sorry. We were just—”

“Making out,” Jack supplied.

Carrie blushed and hit him. “We were looking for my coat, but then I remembered that I didn’t wear one.”

The man grinned and gave Jack an exaggerated wink. “If I weren’t with a date, I might consider asking you to help look for my coat as well.”

Carrie didn’t say anything, but stalked down the hall, and didn’t look back to see if Jack followed.

Actually she hoped he was anywhere but near her.

What she did hope was that Jack Templeton, attorney-at-law, decided to take a long walk off a very short pier.

“Carrie, wait up,” he called.

“No.”

“Why are you mad?” he said, matching his strides easily to hers.

Carrie glared at him. Was he insane? He was back with his old girlfriend, but he was making out with her in a coat closet.

She should simply tell him she knew. She should ask him what he was thinking. But the truth was, she was afraid of his answer.

He’d said she was brave, but turns out he was wrong.

“Mad? I’m not mad,” she said.

“You could have fooled me.”

“That was simply one of the most embarrassing situations I have ever found myself in, so maybe I’m a bit put out.” She could still feel herself blushing.

The way she was feeling now, she might never erase the red stains from her cheeks.

“I hate to disagree,” he said, “but I can’t believe that’s more embarrassing than the time you set the kitchen on fire in home ec?”

The problem with having the same knight-errant since grade school is that he tended to know every little mishap.

Even worse, he tended to remember each and every one in vivid detail.

She sighed. “Well, I’m not doing too bad if you have to go all the way back to high school to find a more embarrassing moment.”

“Or the time the straps of your bikini broke when you dived off the high board. That was just last year,” he said with a grin.

“Not as embarrassing at all. I don’t have enough to warrant any ogling.”

“Oh, there was plenty of ogling. What you’ve got is perfectly proportioned. And how can exposing yourself be less embarrassing than necking with your boyfriend?”

“Well, you are a boy, and you used to be a friend, but right now you’re not much of one.”

“Don’t say that,” he snapped, all teasing aside.

Tears began forming in her eyes. “Why shouldn’t I say it? All night you’ve been going out of your way to show people we’re more than just friends, but you know we can’t be more.”

She found her courage and said, “There’s Sandy.”

“Sandy and I are over. We’ve talked this to death. Is that why you’ve got me in this limbo? You’re jealous of Sandy? You think I’m still pining for her? It’s over. How many times do I have to say it?”

Carrie didn’t believe a word of it. She didn’t know why he was lying, maybe he wasn’t lying to her, as much as lying to himself.

“You apologized for making love to me.”

“I only said what I thought you wanted to hear,” he yelled. “The only thing that happened on that island that I’m sorry about was letting you out of my bed.”

“Sure, that’s what they all say. You just couldn’t wait to get rid of me.” She sniffed, trying to hold back the flow of tears that could easily flood the room.

“Carrie, I’ve done everything I can think of to let you know how much I enjoyed myself, how much I’d like to see that side of our relationship continue.” He ran his fingers through his hair, a totally uncharacteristic display of annoyance, one that was marred by the fact that Carrie’s white lace panties were still attached to his arm.

Even worse than that Carrie suddenly became aware of the fact everyone in the room was unnaturally silent.

Worse still, when she looked up to see why, her eyes met dozens of other sets of eyes.

“Jack,” she whispered.

“Don’t argue, Carrie. Sandy and I are history. We’ve been history. You and I, on the other hand, are just beginning. We were good in bed and I think our friendship has gone beyond going backward.” His hand, done trailing through his hair, was folded along with its panty-less mate in front of his chest.

“Jack,” Carrie whispered again.

She now knew for certain the blush that was covering her entire body was probably permanently tattooed in place.

“Ah, Jack, your arm,” someone from the crowd called.

Jack looked down and quickly tucked his hand back into his pocket

Carrie thought she’d been in trouble before, but this...this went beyond trouble. She spied Judge and Mrs. Marsh coming from the coatroom.

“Pardon me,” she said, rushing from Jack to the couple. “You look like you’re leaving. I know it’s rude to ask, but would you mind dropping me at my place?”

“We’d be happy to, my dear,” Judge Marsh said.

Jack grabbed her arm. “Carrie, you’re going home with me and we’re having this out once and for all.”

She yanked it free. “I am not, I’m going home with the Marshes.”

“There’s still that little matter that I find myself rather stuck to, to discuss,” he warned.

“Keep them.” She followed the Marshes, desperately needing to get away from him.

“Carrie, I want to know what’s going on in that convoluted mind of yours,” Jack called to her.

“Did you hear what he said?” she said to Mrs. Marsh. “He thinks I’m stupid. He’s always thought I was stupid, but I need to tell you that I’ve always been smarter than him. I’ve let him play white knight for me for years, thinking Mr. I-Need-to-Save-the-World needed to feel needed. When all the time he needed a boot in the butt.”

“Men need a combination of both, dear,” Mrs. Marsh said knowingly.

“Well, he’ll have to find a maiden in distress somewhere else. The role was getting sort of old,” she said, talking to Mrs. Marsh and studiously ignoring Jack, who was still trailing after them.

“I imagine it would after a time,” Mrs. Marsh said sympathetically.

“Carrie, I’m serious,” Jack said.

“Call the girl in the morning,” the judge said.

“Don’t bother,” Carrie said, crawling into the back seat of the car. “Call Sandy. If she chased you to the island, I’m sure she wants to hear from you.”

She slammed the door and pushed the lock button.

“Are you going to be okay?” Mrs. Marsh asked as the car pulled away.

Carrie watched Jack fade into the distance.

“Fine. Just fine,” she said.

After giving Judge Marsh her address, she sank into the leather seat and gave in to her melancholy.

She’d done it this time.

She’d lost the best friend she’d ever had.

She sniffed, wishing for one of Jack’s never ending supply of handkerchiefs.

No, she took that back. She was over Jack Templeton, the underwear-stealing, two-timing, black knight.

He’d fallen off the pedestal she’d put him on so many years ago.

He was a mere mortal.

Worse than that, he was a man.

Well, Carrie was a woman. An independent, intelligent woman who was definitely over her little case of lust.

She was relegating hormones to the past and she was going to ignore unwanted spurts of physical attraction.

She was over Jack Templeton.

It had taken her a decade, but she was over him.

She was a woman finally ready to stand on her own two feet.

“Are you sure you’re okay, dear?” Mrs. Marsh asked.

“Yes, I’m just fine.”

And with all her heart, Carrie hoped she hadn’t lied.