Mr Destiny (19 page)

She pushed past Alex and stomped back into the living room. After she slammed the box down on the coffee table, Kate flopped
down on the sofa in a pout. “Gram knew which bridal suit I liked best,” she said. “But I never dreamed she'd go ahead and
buy the damn thing.”

“Well, at least open it,” Alex said, glancing at the box. “I'd like to see what you were going to wear if you
had
decided to marry outside your species. Wouldn't you, Eve?”

“But Harold isn't outside Kate's…”

It took only one warning look from Alex.

Eve shut up and nodded in agreement.

Kate stared at the box.

But she made no attempt to open it.

Alex walked around the coffee table. She bent over and sliced through the tape on all four sides of the box with her long,
red fingernail. She shimmied the top off the box. She gently peeled back several layers of delicate tissue paper. She looked
up at Kate…

And then Alex screamed like a surprised
Swan
contestant seeing herself for the first time at her long-awaited reveal.

Kate jumped up from the sofa.

She sat back down just as quickly.

She'd thought after Harold's surprise wedding and Alex's obvious surrogate insanity, nothing else could shock her today.

This Richter scale reading?

Off the freaking charts!

“There's a card, there's a card,” Alex chanted.

She did a Snoopy dance around the room before she made one final workin'-it circular pivot with her hips, bowed politely,
and thrust the card forward for Kate to take.

Kate only stared at the sealed card.

Instant-gratification-girl Alex tore the envelope open, jerked the card out, and forced Kate to take it.

Alex and Eve both leaned over Kate's shoulder.

They all three read aloud, “Be beautiful—Tony.”

Tony let himself inside the cabin and dumped his duffel bag in the floor by the door. After a quick look around the A-frame,
he headed through the great room to the back sliding door. A quick release of the security latch slid the door open. He stepped
outside onto the large deck overlooking the lake, inhaled deeply, and filled his lungs with fresh mountain air.

That instantly-feel-better feeling didn't happen.

He might as well have been stuck in traffic on his Harley, sucking in exhaust fumes in the Queens Midtown Tunnel.

So much for a change in scenery.

He stood on the deck staring at the worn and weathered floating dock below the cabin. Had he not acted on his idea to make
the trip to a certain bridal shop in SoHo, he would already have the rotted lumber stripped away from the dock.

But he had gone to SoHo.

He had bought the dress.

And, he regretted that decision.

He'd told Kate he would buy the dress that day in the bridal shop, sure, but that wasn't the reason he'd bought the dress.
He'd bought the dress because he didn't want to spend the rest of his life wondering if their paths
had
crossed for a reason, and he'd just been too lame to do anything about it.

He'd sent the gift as a reminder.

Kate deserved a beautiful dress.

Kate deserved a big wedding.

And Kate deserved a man who would make her eyes light up at the thought of becoming his bride.

As for her being another man's fiancée, Tony had decided to hell with Harold, all's fair in love and war, and to hell with
every other sane thought that kept reminding him he'd obviously gone flat-ass crazy. If Kate called him, nothing was going
to stand in the way of his telling her exactly how he felt.

He wanted a fair chance.

He wanted time alone with her.

He wanted the opportunity for both of them to find out if the immediate attraction they felt for each other was purely physical
or possibly the real thing.

But Kate hadn't called.

You cannot achieve the impossible without attempting the ridiculous.

Those had been inspiring words from his college days.

Words that sadly had him
perspiring
now over his spur-of-the-moment decision.

Tony glanced at his watch and his hopes plummeted even further. It was already four o'clock in the afternoon. He knew Kate
had received the dress hours ago. He'd had the owner at the bridal shop call the gallery before he left the shop. Kate was
scheduled to be at the gallery by noon. The woman had promised to walk around the corner and deliver the dress to Kate herself.

His home number was listed.

A quick call to information—she'd have his number.

But he'd checked his messages earlier.

Kate hadn't called.

Tony unclipped his cell phone from his belt and dialed his voice mail one last time.

“You have
no
new messages,” the snotty voice informed him, confirming with each passing hour that the answer he feared most was becoming
a reality.

Kate was obviously angry about the dress.

He'd taken a chance—it backfired.

It was just as simple as that.

Tony banged his fist against the deck railing, cursed himself for his poor judgment, then headed back through the A-frame
and out to the car. As he unloaded his week's worth of groceries, he kept wondering if maybe he should try and call Kate at
the gallery. Apologize. If he had upset her.

No.

Let her go.

He had to.

He'd made a big enough fool of himself already.

If he had any further contact with Kate Anderson, it would be because she called him. Or worse—because she filed a complaint
against him.

And wouldn't that be just great?

Him, a respected cop until now, standing in front of the judge. Harold waving a restraining order under his nose. Him, trying
to explain to the judge that he really wasn't a stalker at all—sending other men's fiancées wedding dresses just happened
to be his latest hobby.

What the hell was I thinking?

King of the Dumb Asses.

That title didn't even touch his stupidity.

Tony put away the groceries, walked back out on the deck and down the back steps, heading for the dock. He needed to stop
wishing for a phone call that wasn't going to happen, pull himself together, and stop acting like some lovesick teenager mooning
over his first big crush.

I'm a grown man, dammit.

And a cop, for Christ's sake!

Get a freaking grip, already.

A rich Manhattan attorney?

Or a cop from Queens?

A no-brainer choice for any woman.

He stopped at the edge of the water, looking at the dock and mentally calculating which planks needed replacing and which
planks didn't. The lumber and the tools he needed to get the job done were already in the basement of the cabin. If he got
a move on, he could have the damaged planks stripped off before dark and begin rebuilding the dock first thing in the morning.

I need to get focused.

To hell with physical attraction.

Losing himself in some good old-fashioned hard physical
labor
was what he needed to do. Especially since the attraction he thought Kate felt for him had obviously only been a figment
of his own warped imagination.

All foam, no beer.

He'd sure missed his mark on that one.

He walked out to the edge of the dock, testing the stability and making sure the rotten planks were all that needed attention.
Everything was solid. The Styrofoam beneath the planks still had plenty of buoyancy. The repair wasn't going to be half as
difficult as he'd expected. By the end of the weekend, he would have a brand-new dock with no problem at all.

And then what?

Spend his whole vacation hoping Kate would call?

Tony reached for his cell phone.

He stood there for a moment.

Shook his head.

Then threw the phone as far as he could send it, out into the middle of the lake.

“Diane? This is Kate Anderson.”

“You got the dress?”

“Yes, but…”

“Thank goodness,” Diane said with a relieved sigh. “Mr. Petrocelli was adamant that you received the dress today. I went to
the gallery earlier to deliver it, but you weren't there. That's when I panicked and called the delivery service.”

You went to the gallery!

“Was my grandmother at the gallery?”

“No, I didn't see Grace.”

Thank God.

“I can't accept this dress, Diane. That's why I'm calling.”

There was a long pause before Diane said, “I was afraid of that. That's why I made certain Mr. Petrocelli understood I have
a strict no refund policy. He said it didn't matter. He insisted on buying the dress regardless.”

“But, Diane,” Kate said. “I haven't even taken the dress out of the box.” She looked back over her shoulder. The dress was
not only out of the box, Alex was still waltzing around the room with it. She motioned impatiently for Alex to put the dress
back.

“I'm sorry, Kate,” Diane said. “Wedding dresses are like new cars. The minute they leave the showroom, they're used. It wouldn't
be fair to my customers. I'm sure you can understand that.”

No, Kate didn't understand that reasoning at all.

Any more than she understood why Tony would insist on buying the dress when he knew up front about the no return policy.

“Kate? Are you still there?”

“Thanks, Diane. It isn't your fault he bought the dress after you told him about your policy.” But before she hung up, Kate
did ask Diane not to mention the dress
or
Mr. Petrocelli to her grandmother.

She looked at Eve when she closed her cell phone.

“Diane won't take the dress back?”

Kate shook her head. “She has a strict no refund policy. That's what I don't understand. She told Tony up front about it.
He bought the dress anyway.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Pay Tony back, of course.”

“Or not,” Alex said as she placed the dress carefully back in the box. “I have a feeling if Tony has anything to say about
it, this dress is going to come in handy a lot sooner than you think.”

“Well, thank you, Ms. Rent-A-Womb,” Kate said, “for spouting off even more babble you're trying to pass off as perfectly logical
reasoning.”

“Oh, please.” Alex tossed a pooh-ha wave of her hand. “Leave my psychodrama out of this. You have another important call to
make, remember? A
booty
call?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “I'm not interested in falling madly in bed with Tony Petrocelli, Alex.”

That was a lie, yes, but it was the kind of remark someone cleverly disguised as a responsible adult would probably make.

“But I will call Tony,” Kate said. “Eventually. After I've had time to…”

“Analyze the situation?”

Kate sent Alex a go-to-hell look. “Yes, I want to analyze the situation, Alex. And I don't think even you can deny this is
one situation that could use some serious analyzing. It just doesn't make any sense. As far as Tony knows, I'm still going
to marry Harold. What could he possibly be thinking sending me the dress?”

Alex put her hands on her hips. “Did you forget to pay your brain bill, Kate?” She shook her head. “Read between the lines,
dammit.”

“Silly, there aren't any lines.” Eve held up the card as proof.

“He sent the dress to put the ball back in
your
court,” Alex said. “Tony has known from the beginning something wasn't right with you and Harold. He asked you himself if
you really loved the guy. He's hoping you'll give him a chance to prove
he
could be your destiny.” Alex shook her head again. “Poor guy, he could have saved himself the money and just sent you a box
of condoms instead.”

“But a box of condoms wouldn't have been nearly as romantic,” Eve said.

Kate glanced at the dress and sighed.

Could Alex be right?

“I just don't know,” Kate said. “He practically pushed me into my waiting taxi after his grandmother didn't know who I was.
He actually seemed delighted to get rid of me.”

“You had the taxi driver wait for you?” Alex wailed.