If Wishing Made It So (13 page)

Hildy peered out the window to be sure Mike had pulled away in the Mercedes before she went to the tote and removed the genie’s bottle. She quickly pulled out the cork and waited. Nothing.

She held the bottle up to the light. She could see the small figure of Tony G. inside. He was seated with his back to her. He definitely seemed to be pouting. Hildy put her lips close to the neck of the bottle. ‘‘Come out here at once.’’

A serpentine column of gray smoke slowly snaked out of the top of the bottle. Then Tony G. appeared and stood before Hildy, his face stern.

His mouth set in hard lines, his sinewy muscles tense, his manners gone, the genie spoke in a voice loud and accusatory. ‘‘I suspected you were a woman who didn’t listen. Now you have proved it.’’

Hildy matched him in tone and velocity. ‘‘
I
don’t listen! You gave me your word you wouldn’t eavesdrop. Your word! You didn’t keep it. I am outraged. I am appalled. I am . . . I am . . .’’

‘‘Wrong.’’

‘‘Wrong? Are you out of your mind?’’ Hildy’s hands were on her hips.

‘‘Yes, wrong. I gave you my word not to listen or watch
unless you needed me to.
You clearly needed me to intervene, so I did. Not that it helped.’’ Tony G. jutted out his chin, not giving an inch.

‘‘What you do mean, I needed you to? Are you delusional? I most certainly did not need you.’’

‘‘Hurrumph. The proof is in the pudding. You had sex with him.’’

‘‘What? How dare you. What happened or didn’t happen between Mike and me is none of your business.
None
of your business.’’

A vein throbbed on Tony G.’s temple. His voice became a bark. ‘‘
You
are my business. I am dependent on you. And you, you are an innocent. A babe in the woods. What you know about sex would fit on the head of a pin. And quite frankly, sex is something I
do
know about.’’

‘‘Oh yeah?’’ Hildy really didn’t have a good comeback since Tony G. was probably right.

‘‘Oh yeah! Having sex with that fellow was the dumbest move you could have made.’’

The arrow hit home. Hildy did her best not to react. She had her own misgivings, but at the time, she did just what she wanted to do, and, at the time, she was glad. However, she wasn’t conceding anything to Tony G. ‘‘I am not calculating or scheming! What happened with Mike wasn’t a ‘move.’ Anyway, I don’t think it was a dumb thing to do.’’

‘‘I do! Didn’t you ever hear the expression ‘Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free’?’’

‘‘You are totally offensive, do you know that?’’ A blush had stolen up Hildy’s neck and she could feel her cheeks burning.

‘‘Offensive or not, it’s the truth. What did you have going for you? What leverage did you have in this relationship?
You’re the one that got away.
Now he’s landed you, hook, line and sinker. You gave up your ace in the hole.’’

‘‘What?’’

‘‘Okay, that came out all wrong. But you lost your major advantage.’’

Hildy wanted to believe that sex and love, in this case, were one and the same. She wanted to believe Mike had rediscovered his long lost passion for her. She wanted to think that in an hour or so, when he got back to Atlantic City, he’d be giving Kiki the bad news, that their engagement had ended. But she had this niggling doubt wriggling around in her brain that it was entirely possible that the genie was right.

Her feelings must have shown on her face because Tony G. said, ‘‘You aren’t going to start the waterworks going, are you?’’

Hildy looked up at Tony G. with tear-filled eyes. It was hard to remember he wasn’t real, or at least wasn’t human. She could see him breathing. She could see a light sheen of perspiration on his brow. She could smell the patchouli scent he wore.

‘‘I’m okay.’’ Hildy tried to smile, but her upper lip began trembling. Exhaustion had suddenly overtaken her. Her emotions, fragile as glass, were in danger of shattering. Now, to top off the evening, a genie had told her that she had thrown away her best chance of making a go of it with Mike.

If she looked at the situation from an outsider’s perspective, she had quickly surrendered to Mike’s desire. He got immediate gratification, or at least had his curiosity satisfied. Why would he feel compelled to see her again? The hunt was over, the quarry taken.

‘‘I guess you’re right.’’ She sighed and the sigh turned into a sob.

‘‘Ah Hades.’’ Tony G. reached out and pulled Hildy into a brotherly hug. He produced a tissue out of thin air and put it in her hand. ‘‘Look, mistre— I mean Ms. Caldwell, you’re forgetting you still have an advantage left, and it’s an unbeatable one.’’

Hildy blew her nose loudly. ‘‘What is it?’’ she asked in a trembling voice.

‘‘Me.’’

Meanwhile, a full moon had risen over the Jersey shore, the weather pattern shifted from the northeast to the south, a Bermuda High blew in from the steamy Caribbean, the ocean churned white with the quickening breeze, and emotions in places other than the small gray cottage in Ship Bottom broke free to do mischief.

In his palatial summer home in Ocean City, Jimmy the Bug was busy smashing every plate he could grab from his kitchen. He would have wrung Sal’s and Joey’s necks if they had been stupid enough to get close to him. They weren’t that dumb. While they weren’t rocket scientists, they had enough smarts to call Puggy on his cell phone and tell him to make sure no firearms were within easy reach before they walked in with the bad news.

The news was worse than bad, they had to admit. Yeah, they told their boss, they had found the girl. No, they didn’t have the bottle. They tried to explain how they had driven up to Ship Bottom just like Jimmy told them to, the minute he got the call from the Scranton guy.

They had hidden in the shadows, waiting for her to return, ready for a quick snatch of her bag. But at the last possible minute things went to hell. A whole gang of crazy teens—twenty or thirty young toughs, they insisted—appeared out of nowhere and attacked them. Otherwise, they would have had the bottle. Sal had his hands on it, honest to God. And despite the long odds against them and poor Joey getting bitten in the cojones, they fought like tigers and didn’t run, at least they didn’t run before the cops showed up. They had to take off then, now didn’t they?

And no, they couldn’t hang around for a second attempt because the Ship Bottom police were now cruising up and down the local streets looking for them. But on the positive side, they knew where this chick lived. Tomorrow, Puggy could take some firepower with him, and bang, she’s dead. The bottle’s theirs. She’s a woman, there all alone. Who’s going to stop them?

Jimmy the Bug’s face went from fish belly white to puce as he picked up a tall water glass and winged it at Sal, who ducked behind a chaise lounge. ‘‘You morons!’’ he bellowed. ‘‘Who’s gonna stop us?’’

Then he grabbed a soup bowl and let it fly at Joey, who covered his head with his hands. A set of eight dinner plates followed like china Frisbees. ‘‘You mental midgets!’’ he screamed. ‘‘She knows we’re after her now. And who’s gonna stop us? Don’t you idiots have half a brain between you?’’

He took aim with a salt and pepper set, then followed that with a sugar bowl and creamer. Smash, crash, broken shards rolled over the floor. ‘‘Who’s gonna stop us? The goddamned genie, that’s who!’’

With his rage finally sated by smashed pottery, Jimmy the Bug sat in the lanai sipping a single malt scotch. He drank slowly. He stared out across the dark beach at the wind-whipped sea. He intended to get the genie back, but sending imbeciles after the bottle could only fail. He had to think this out. He needed a plan to get the girl to give up the bottle. Everybody had a price. Everybody had a weak spot. He intended to learn everything he could about this Hildy Caldwell. Then he’d know hers.

Pottery took to the air in the Trump Plaza too.

Mike returned to the suite he shared with Kiki around two thirty in the morning. If Mike had been a luckier man, she would have still been at the rock concert or having a late-night drink. She would never have known he left. And if he had been a wiser man, he wouldn’t have entered the room with a big grin on his face.

‘‘Where the hell have you been!’’ Kiki stood in the center of the hall, dressed in her sexy party clothes, her face not the least bit attractive when it was distorted by rage.

Mike’s smile evaporated. ‘‘Ummm, out,’’ he answered, having no quick comeback available.

‘‘You turned your cell phone off!’’ She flung her accusation at him with the speed of a fastball pitch.

Mike felt confused. This wasn’t quite the calm, serious talk about ending their relationship that he had planned. He had meant what he said to Hildy. He would end it with his longtime fiancée. He didn’t know if he loved Hildy, but he felt maybe he could. And even if he didn’t, he knew he didn’t love Kiki anymore. He stood in the doorway looking perplexed. ‘‘Ummmm, yeah,’’ he said. ‘‘I did.’’

‘‘Who were you with?’’ Kiki had no doubts another woman was involved in Mike’s evening. When a significant other of the male gender turns off his cell phone, two general reasons cover every specific situation: He’s doing something he swore he wouldn’t—or he’s cheating.

‘‘I went to talk. With an old friend. That girl you met on the beach today. That’s all,’’ Mike stuttered.

Kiki picked up a heavy ceramic lamp from the hall credenza with both hands and let it fly with deadly accuracy at him. He dove for the floor. It crashed into the doorjamb. The lightbulb exploded into a shower of glass shards.

‘‘You bastard!’’ she shrieked. ‘‘I can smell sex on you.’’ Then she strode over to where Mike lay on the carpet, looking up at her.

‘‘Now you listen to me, Michael Amante. I don’t care if you were with this pathetic little country mouse you knew in high school. I do care that I get what you owe me from this relationship. And after five years, Michael, you owe me a lot, and if you have any idea about calling off our engagement, I want you to know, I intend to collect every last dime.’’

‘‘Ah, sure, of course.’’ Mike nodded. Relief spilled over him. She was only worried about their stuff. Maybe the breakup wouldn’t be so bad after all. ‘‘We’ll split things fifty-fifty, or sixty-forty, I want to be fair.’’

Then Kiki’s perfect face crumbled. ‘‘That’s fair? Are you serious? If this comes out, I’ll be humiliated. How could you do this to me?’’ she wailed. She sank down on the floor next to Mike. He could smell her expensive perfume. Her smooth bare arm deliberately brushed his. She turned her huge brown eyes toward him. ‘‘After all the time we’ve been together. Oh, Michael!’’ she whimpered, not all that convincingly. ‘‘Michael, you can’t go, not now.’’

Reluctantly Mike sat up and put his arm around Kiki’s slender shoulders. ‘‘It will be for the best. You’ll see.’’

Kiki buried her face against his chest, muffling her voice. She made her breath catch in her throat and let out a little moan. ‘‘You can’t leave me, Michael. Not now,’’ she repeated.

Guilt clutched its bony hand around Mike’s heart. ‘‘Aw, Kiki, don’t start crying.’’

Kiki made more noises in her throat, her breath catching in little hiccups. ‘‘Michael, please. You can’t leave, because—because—I bought the prettiest wedding dress. A Donna Karan original. The picture is going to be on Page Six of the
New York Post
. Tomorrow. It was going to be a surprise. Oh, Michael!’’ she wailed.

Mike felt sick. What kind of a guy was he? He just took the virginity of the sweetest girl in the world—while he was formally engaged to a woman who depended on him to marry her. He felt trapped, panicky really.

‘‘Look, Kiki,’’ he said at last. ‘‘Don’t get yourself all upset. We’ll talk about this in the morning. Why don’t you go on to bed. I’m going to sit up and watch TV for a while.’’

Kiki lifted her head, her long dark hair spilling like silk rain down her back. Tears like diamonds glittered on her eyelashes. She wiped them away with her fingers, no longer whimpering or even seemingly very upset. She kissed him on the nose, gripped his shoulders, her red nail polish very bright against his T-shirt.

She spoke to him as if he were a schoolboy. ‘‘Oh, Michael, you were very naughty, weren’t you? I guess a man has to have a fling every now and then. It’s how men are, no? I forgive you. There’s nothing to talk about. I’m just going to forget this night ever happened, and you need to too. After all, my wedding dress will be in the paper tomorrow.

‘‘And you know what else, Michael? I also told Liz Smith we set a date. I was so excited about the dress, and a September wedding sounded so lovely. I just couldn’t resist telling her that she could announce the news in her column. September seventh is our day. Donald, that dear dear man, said he’d cater it all for us here in the Plaza.’’

Mike felt as if he had just been given a sentence by a hanging judge.

Kiki stood up and walked to the bedroom, turning as she got to the door. ‘‘But yes, you should sleep on the sofa tonight. Naughty boys do need to be punished, at least a little.’’

Michael thought his head was going to explode. He couldn’t think straight. He settled himself in an easy chair and turned on HBO. A
Sopranos
rerun was playing. Mike didn’t really notice. He was thinking that he couldn’t deal with Kiki and the wedding. It was easier to push it out of his mind and focus on getting his new business going. He needed to talk to Jake Truesdale as soon as possible.

Then he thought about Hildy; he never meant to hurt her and now he was afraid he was going to break her heart.

Chapter 13

‘‘It’s another great morning on Long Beach Island!’’ The hearty, upbeat voice of Sonny Somers, the weather guy, issued from the radio next to Hildy’s bed. The alarm had gone off at exactly seven a.m. Hildy stirred from sleep and put her pillow over her head.

Sonny’s weather report penetrated through the goose down. ‘‘We’ve got the three Hs—hazy, hot, and humid. The Bermuda High I was telling you about—the one that had been sitting around eight hundred miles due east of Charleston, South Carolina—has moved in and intends to stick around for the rest of the week.