The Next Thing on My List (27 page)

‘ You’ re right. Excuse my lack of manners,’  he said curtly. ‘ Congratulations.’

‘ Thank you,’  I spat.

What was his deal? My head started to whirl from disappointment. Not to mention the cheap wine.

For a moment, we pretended to be engrossed in Wayne Newton, who was now coming out into the audience as he sang. Apparently, the divider that we sat next to was a ramp. Wayne walked along it, leaning down to shake hands with people as he sang. Tiny lights led his way to us.

‘ Oh, June!’  Kitty cried. ‘ He’ s coming this way. Let’ s try to shake his hand!’

Glad for the distraction, I gave Kitty a thumbs-up. I narrowed my eyes at Troy. Amazing how easily infatuation can turn to annoyance.

No matter, because the one, the only, the incomparable Wayne Newton himself stood in front of our table. In front of me.

What the hell-might as well make something of the evening. I thrust my hand toward him.

He didn’ t take it. Instead he shook his head no, only to pause and give the crowd an ‘ I can’ t help myself’  shrug. The next thing I knew, he gestured for me to stand. When I did, he planted a wet, sweaty kiss on my lips. It felt as if he were one of those snakes whose jaw can open really wide, pulling me in deeper and deeper. For a moment, I feared being swallowed whole headfirst into his gullet, until at last he released me.

The crowd cheered, and Wayne said, ‘ Thank you, beautiful lady.’

He picked up the next line of the song and moved on. I used a napkin to dry my face and wipe away the stage makeup that had rubbed off on me. It would take a shower and a few weeks to get rid of the aftershave that lingered.

‘ You’ re so lucky!’  Gran exclaimed.

I might have felt special, except that he went on to kiss pretty much every woman in the place-even climbing off the ramp to plant one on an old gal in her wheelchair.

‘ It’ s the Walk of a Hundred Kisses. He’ s famous for it,’  Kitty said. ‘ But you were first!’

‘ Good thing, too,’  Gran said. ‘ I don’ t know if I’ d want that mouth on me after seeing where it’ d been.’

Judging by Troy’ s stony expression, I was certain that was the only kiss I was going to score for the night.

Having finished my glasses of wine, I mooched the second daiquiri, which Gran hadn’ t wanted. When the show finally ended and we stood to go, the room tipped around me. I stumbled. Troy caught me, but then he couldn’ t let go of me fast enough.

Kitty and Gran chattered as we walked out. The ride home on the motorcycle sure wasn’ t going to be the snuggle-fest it was on the way here. I started to wonder if Troy was so appalled by my status as mom-to-be that he was going to tow me behind his motorcycle rather than share the seat with me.

He had other plans. Leaning close, he said, ‘ You should take the cab back with my mom and Gran. You’ re not in any shape to ride.’

‘ Fine. I didn’ t mean to disgust you with my drunkenness.’

‘ I don’ t want you to get hurt.’

Too late for that. It was clear: Once I brought up a baby, he didn’ t want anything to do with me.

I remembered back to the game of ‘ what if’  I’ d recently played with my mom, and my heart sank.

It wasn’ t fair. Troy had seemed so perfect. So maybe I hadn’ t brought up the adoption until now. He sure wasn’ t up front about being a baby hater, either. It seemed the sort of thing he might have mentioned. Hi, do you come here often? And by the way, I hate babies.

I turned on him, suddenly furious. ‘ What do you have against babies, anyway?’

‘ Come on, be fair. You have to admit this is out of left field.’

‘ Actually, it’ s not that strange. People adopt all the time.’

He paused, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Collecting himself. Then, ignoring me, he walked over to Kitty and Gran to tell them he’ d meet up with us back at the hotel. He said it’ d be best if I rode along with them.

Before I followed the ladies out to get in line for a cab, I felt compelled to say to Troy, ‘ It’ s not as if I were asking you to be the father.’

‘ It’ s nothing against you. A baby isn’ t anything I’ m ready for right now. I mean, I’ ve been through a lot lately. Besides, you and I haven’ t even-’  And he stopped.

There was no need to finish. Kissed? Dated? Screwed? It didn’ t matter because the result was the same.

At last, I slid into acceptance. This was going to be my life from now on, I realized. I’ d better get used to it.

I WOKE TO THE SOUND of the shower running. And& ugh. My head felt stuffed with fuzz and my mouth with dust. I had to lie there for a few minutes before I could even piece together that I was in my hotel room in Las Vegas and it was morning.

How I got here, I had no idea.

Water. I needed water. Hell, I’ d even take three-dollar water. I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My stomach lurched.

Bad idea.

Maybe I didn’ t need water quite so quickly.

That was when I noticed the slacks on the floor and the man’ s shirt& and were those boxers?

Frantically, I tried to piece together how I got upstairs and-I glanced downward-dressed in a T-shirt. No bra or underwear.

The shower stopped, and I heard male humming.

Okay, June, think.

Last night. After the concert, I’ d met up with Brie and Martucci at the hotel bar. They were doing tequila shooters. Kitty and Gran had decided to call it a night. Their flight was leaving early in the morning, so they’ d thanked me and invited all of us to Marissa’ s birthday party. After they left, Troy came down wearing jeans and a leather jacket and carrying a travel bag. He gave his hotel key card to Brie-said he was going to head home so she might as well have her own room.

The last thing I could remember was Martucci challenging me to an upside-down shooter. I don’ t recall if I said good-bye to Troy. Just did a back bend over the barstool. Then I watched as he walked away, upside down, and Martucci poured the tequila in my mouth until my throat burned and my eyes watered.

Martucci.

It was all coming back. Him carting me up to the room. Pulling off my top. Me, sliding off my panties.

There was a wastebasket next to the bed. I gazed into it, wondering if I’ d see a used condom or a wrapper. It was empty. Which was either good news or bad news-either I didn’ t do anything or I did, and without protection. Right now, Martucci’ s sperm could be thundering through me, trying to create little Martuccis.

The bathroom door handle turned, and-why I suddenly felt the need to be modest I don’ t know-I pulled the sheets around me.

And out walked& Runner. My masseur. Huh.

He had a towel wrapped around his waist, his massive chest bare. His hair hung loose and wet down his back.

‘ Good morning,’  he said cheerfully.

‘ Morning.’

‘ How’ re you feeling?’

‘ Confused.’

‘ Yeah, that was one wild night.’  He picked up the shirt off the floor and tossed it on. I averted my gaze as he stepped into the boxers and then the pants. ‘ You were really out of it.’

Was it Runner who’ d undressed me? It must have been, but the memory of Martucci was so distinct. The way I’ d tugged on his rattail. But maybe it was Runner’ s ponytail. Or both of theirs. Who knew? I might have had my first one-night stand or my first orgy.

‘ Well,’  Runner said, heading for the door, ‘ Brie ought to be out of the bathtub by now. Thanks for letting me use your shower.’

Use my shower?

‘ We didn’ t sleep together, then?’  I asked.

He boomed out a laugh. ‘ I needed to shower before work. Brie was already in the tub and in no hurry to get out& or to share. She suggested I use this one.’

‘ Ah, so you and Brie& ‘

‘ Helluva woman, that friend of yours. Glad I hooked up with you guys. Whooee, you sure put back the tequila fast last night. You didn’ t even make it to midnight before you started to pass out.’

‘ Speaking of that,’  I ventured, ‘ were you the one who brought me up here?’

He shook his head. ‘ Nah, it was your friend. The Italian guy.’

I nodded, smiling, as if that were swell news.

Runner left, and I managed to shower, pack, and meet the others for the drive home, where I immediately crawled into one of the motor home’ s sleeper bunks and slept. I woke up only long enough to attempt to gag down a McSomething or other.

Martucci dropped Brie off first, then took me home, which gave me time alone with him to ask what I’ d been dreading but needed to know.

I moved to the passenger seat to sit next to him as he drove. He chewed on sunflower seeds, spitting the hulls into a bag on the dashboard.

‘ I don’ t know how to ask this, so I’ m just going to ask it,’  I said.

‘ All right.’

‘ Did we have sex?’

‘ Don’ t remember a thing, huh?’

‘ If you must know, I vividly recall you undressing me.’

‘ Ah& ‘  He sighed happily. ‘ So do I.’

‘ Very amusing. This was a tough weekend for me. I was extremely vulnerable. I can’ t believe you’ d take advantage. That you’ d-’

‘ Parker, don’ t get yourself in a twist. I was only messing with you. Nothing happened.’

‘ Oh, please. Don’ t lie.’

An image of me licking his face rose to my mind.

‘ I’ m not lying. You were totally wasted, so I brought you up to your room. And sweetheart, you were begging for it. Practically dry-humping me. You know, you really shouldn’ t go so long without sex.’

‘ And you expect me to believe you didn’ t take me up on it?’  I was skeptical and, frankly, a little insulted.

‘ You may not believe this, but I have standards.’

‘ I suppose you’ re going to tell me that you undressed me, but you didn’ t look.’

‘ Hell, yeah, I looked. But I didn’ t touch. And you know why?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘ Because you respect me.’

‘ No& because you were freaking me out. Kept licking my face. Pulling on the rattail, saying it was my source of power. That I was Samson and you were going to cut off my source of power in my sleep.’

‘ Oh.’

‘ I was afraid you’ d go after my other source of power. Pull a Lorena Bobbitt on me. I felt lucky to get out of there alive.’

‘ Sorry,’  I said, feeling sheepish.

He turned back to his driving, his face wounded. ‘ What do you have against the rattail, anyway?’

Chapter 22

I t’ s best that you found this out now,’  Susan said. ‘ You don’ t need to waste time on a man who’ s going to take forever to want kids.’

‘ August isn’ t exactly forever.’

‘ Don’ t make excuses for him,’  she said, pointing a plastic fork at me. ‘ That’ s how you wind up in these relationships that never go anywhere. You deserve better.’

It was Monday morning, and Susan had invited me out for breakfast. We ate egg sandwiches and fruit cups at the deli up the street from work while I filled her in on the details of the weekend. Most of them, anyway. I omitted the part about nearly date raping Martucci.

I’ d spent the rest of Sunday sleeping off my hangover and wishing things had gone differently with Troy. The idea of this list leading me to my true love-okay, it was corny, but I couldn’ t shake my disappointment. Troy had seemed like the sort of guy I could hang with, baby or not. It wasn’ t exactly effortless being with him-there was the matter of my feeling self-conscious over his sister-but I’ d hoped we could get past that.

‘ Maybe this baby is the best thing to ever happen to you,’  Susan said. ‘ It’ ll be a barometer. You’ ll know right away-a guy is either ready for a commitment or he’ s not. Period.’

‘ But Troy had seemed so& right,’  I moped.

‘ They’ re always perfect before you get to know them. But everybody has their flaws. I could sit here for days telling you what bugs me about Chase. But blowing you off because you’ re going to have a baby-I’ d assume that’ s a deal breaker.’

I blew out a breath. ‘ I’ d be feeling a whole lot more high and mighty if I hadn’ t forgotten the baby myself.’

‘ Oh, June. You didn’ t forget the baby. Leaving it on top of the car and driving away is forgetting the baby. Your mind was elsewhere for a while. It’ s allowed.’

‘ Did you ever?’

‘ C’ mon& pregnant with twins? I wished I could have thought of something else. Or slept, for that matter. But in your case, I can see how it would happen. It’ s not as if people are constantly coming up to you and feeling your belly.’  She chewed her lip. ‘ June, I hate to say this now. It’ s extremely bad timing. But I’ m going to say it anyway. No one-and I mean no one-would fault you if you were having second thoughts.’

‘ I’ m not having second thoughts.’

‘ Are you sure? Because if you wanted to back out, it would be fine.’

I steeled my shoulders. ‘ I’ m not backing out.’

‘ Good,’  she said, picking up her food tray and standing to leave. ‘ Because as we speak, there are thirty people gathered in my office with gifts for you. So if you’ re going to go through with it, you’ ll have a few nice things for the baby. If you might change your mind, don’ t remove any of the tags.’  We tipped our trays into the trash can. Susan added, ‘ Oh, and act surprised.’

MERYL STREEP can rest assured-her job is safe. I threw my hands to my face and squealed after they shouted, ‘ Surprise!’  but everybody figured out that Susan had clued me in.

No matter. I still scored plenty of loot.

At long last, after years of chipping in for everybody else’ s weddings and babies and buying Girl Scout cookies and magazine subscriptions by the truckload, I was getting mine.

I tore into the gifts excitedly. The biggest one was a stroller that the staff had pitched in on. And not any stroller, I was informed, but the Cadillac of strollers. I hoped it came with a driver’ s manual.

In addition to that, I got a swing, a bathtub, blankets, an ear thermometer, towels, and several tiny outfits cuter than anything I own. The gift that astounded me the most was a T-shirt with little cars and buses on it. It was so tiny. I kept holding it up, marveling that a human was going to fit in it.

Later, over cake, the questions came in a barrage. What was I naming the baby? (Um& I haven’ t decided.) Was I taking time off? (Definitely some, but how long I wasn’ t sure.) Was I going to be in the delivery room? (Probably.) Was I nervous about it? (Yes.) Would I be breast-feeding? (That was from Martucci. I didn’ t bother to reply.)