Crazy Little Thing (9 page)

What the hell was I thinking, getting all fluttery and jittery over some sweet-talking, muscle-bound iron man? Had Richard taught me nothing?

“What is your problem?” Jasper snapped as I slammed the dishwasher door.

“Nothing!”

Being unmarried, Jasper naively thought I meant it.

“Then be careful. You’ll break the dishes.”

“Mommy, did Daddy call today?” Paige wandered into the kitchen. Jordan was sitting at the island, eating ice cream from a dog bowl, because Dody thought serving food in a dog bowl was the funniest thing in the world. I could only pray she had washed it first.

“No, baby, he hasn’t. I’m sure he’ll call soon.” I looked at my watch. Classic Richard. He’d promised to call at lunch, but it was much closer to dinner.

When Dody’s phone rang fifteen minutes later, I let Paige answer.

She chatted on the line for a minute, so I knew it must be him. Better late than never, I guess. Then she handed the phone to me. “He wants to talk to you.”

Ugh! Talking to the sperm-donor-formerly-known-as-my-husband was just the garlic frosting I needed on this total piece of shit day.

“What do you want, Richard?” I grumbled into the phone.

A moment of silence ensued.

“Richard?” I barked, my voice unpleasantly loud.

“Uh, no, it’s Des.”

My throat went dry, like a wooly mitten was stuck inside. Shit. Shit.

“Sorry. I thought you were somebody else,” I choked out.

His laugh was shallow. “Yeah, I get that a lot. Women wishing I was somebody else.”

My own chuckle sounded equally false. My temples suddenly throbbed as if an alien were scratching his way out. I bit my lip and pressed my hand to my head.

“I wondered how Dody was feeling,” he added after another awkward pause. “I can stop over if you want me to.”

Dody was fine. She’d beaten me at five games of backgammon that afternoon and only skipped her tai chi class because Harry took her for a ride on his Harley.

I didn’t want Des coming over. Seeing him again would just prolong the torment for me. I wanted to go back to watching him anonymously on the beach and not knowing his name or that he had a fluffy gray cat and no wife.

“No, don’t bother. Thanks, but Dody’s fine.”

“I’m not fine!” Dody shouted, trotting in from the sunporch. “Is that Des? Tell him it hurts! Tell him I’m dizzy. I’m seeing spots. Give me the phone, Sadie! Give me that phone.” She tried to wrestle it from my hand.

I covered the receiver and twisted away from her. “God, Dody! Be quiet. Don’t be silly.”

“It’s really no bother,” I heard Des saying on the line. “I’m on my way home anyway.”

Dody snatched the phone. She was certainly agile and strong for somebody needing a doctor.

“Please do stop by, Des, dear. I’d feel so much better if you did. I’ve been feeling the teensiest bit light-headed this evening.”

I rolled my eyes. She was using her breathy, Elizabeth Taylor voice. And she was light-headed because Fontaine had given her a quadruple martini. What a faker. The only reason she wanted him over here was to try and get me laid.

Oh, fine then. Let the Patron Saint of Desperate Housewives bestow upon us the blessings of his company. I still wasn’t on the market. I didn’t need a transitional man. I didn’t need any man. I was fine.

I stomped upstairs and threw myself on the bed, wondering if every divorced woman felt this way or if I was just that special. I never should have let myself get worked up over him in the first place. Or this job business. It was all too ridiculous.

Minutes later, Fontaine’s well-coiffed head appeared around the door frame.

“What the hell are you doing? The McKnight in Shining Armor is on his way.”

“So?”

“So, primp. Do some fluffing and some poufing. Time’s a-wasting.” He grabbed me by the ankle to pull me from the bed.

I tried to kick him with my other leg. “Fontaine, he’s coming to see Dody, not me. I’m not interested. And even if I was, which again, I’m not, I refuse to make a fool of myself.”

He dropped my foot. “Are you really that dense? Did you not catch him checking you out last night?”

I sat up. “He was not checking me out.”

“He was! Even though you looked like hell. So let’s glam you up a little and get this party started.” He flung open the closet door and began rummaging.

Ego tapped me on the shoulder. Fontaine’s compliment was taking effect.

“Did he really check me out, or are you just saying that?”

Fontaine avoided eye contact. “Baby girl, would I lie to you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s true. I would. But I’m not lying to you now, so get your butt in that bathroom and put on some mascara already!”

By the time Dr. McRunning Man arrived, I had brushed, flossed, moisturized, blotted, and put on a sundress. Fontaine peeked out the bathroom window when we heard a car in the driveway.

“BMW convertible,” he said.

Of course. What better way to showcase his Argentinean supermodel? I looked in the mirror, hoping to see a miraculous transformation, but I was as average as ever.

“I love your new ’do,” Fontaine said, fluffing my hair. “I was right about going with the darker brown. You should never argue with me again.”

“Brown hair and brown eyes. It’s kind of boring, isn’t it?” I asked.

“No, it makes you exotic and mysterious.”

I snorted with laughter at my own expense. I was about as exotic as vanilla yogurt.

“Well, the snorting isn’t very sexy. You might want to work on that.” Fontaine left the bathroom and trotted downstairs to open the door. I hesitated another minute. I didn’t want us all pouncing on Des the moment he arrived. I should let him get in and settled so I could make an entrance. Even though I cared nothing about him. This was just for practice.

I heard the door open and shut, and voices wafted up the stairs. Oh, God. The accent was killing me.

“Hello, Fontaine. Mrs. Baker. How are you feeling today?”

“Fine, now that you’re here. I’m sure I asked you to call me Dody.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered.

I moved to the top of the stairs, counting to one hundred, and then I strolled down like I just happened to be passing through the family room on my way to somewhere intriguing.

I caught sight of Dody swooning on the chaise again, wearing a red-and-gold silk robe. It was gift from Uncle Walter for their sixteenth wedding anniversary, allegedly purchased at the Great Wall of China gift shop.

Des was sitting by her side, her wrist in his hand. He looked up, and my breath caught. Was that a hint of positive appraisal in his expression?

I sucked in my stomach, just in case, and smiled. “Oh, hello.”

Fontaine shook his head and turned his back, pretending to cough.

“Hi, Sadie. You look nice,” Des said.

Dody nearly clapped her hands with glee.

“Oh, thanks,” I said again, plucking at the top of my sundress in the universal gesture of “you mean this old thing?”

Jordan ran over, wrapping arms tightly around my waist. “Why are you so pretty, Mommy?”

I smoothed his hair and whispered, “It’s just a sundress, honey. Mommy wears them all the time.”

“No, you don’t.” Jordan frowned.

“Would you like some candy, J-man?” Fontaine asked, nipping this conversation in the bud. Thank you, Fontaine.

Des turned back to Dody. “Shall we have a look?” He took off the bandage, and Paige leaned in close against his arm, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“Wow, those snitches are weird,” she said.

He smiled. “You think so?”

Paige nodded. “Definitely. Like Frankenstein, only not so green.”

“Paige, back up. Give him some room.” I tugged on the back of her shirt.

“She’s all right,” he said. “Paige, hand me that white square thing.”

She reached into his backpack and pulled out some gauze.

We watched while he applied some ointment and a fresh bandage.

“Des?” Paige whispered, leaning toward his neck.

“What?”

“I like your perfume.”

His head went up for a second then dropped to his chest. I remembered the story of his sister spraying him with her flowery perfume. “It’s cologne, Paige,” I corrected. “When a boy wears it, it’s called cologne.”

Dody piped in, “I can’t smell anything. Lean over here, dear. Give me a whiff.”

“Oh my God, Dody!” I gasped. “You can’t ask to smell somebody. It’s rude!”

Des’s face flushed.

“No, it isn’t. It’s rude to
say
they smell. Not to
ask
to smell them. Besides, I know he smells good. You told me so last night.”

Des’s head lifted, his smile instant as he looked at me. Now it was my turn to blush.

“He only stayed about twenty minutes,” I told Penny over the phone, taking a sip of merlot. I needed to decompress and debrief over the recent visit from the man I cared nothing about. From my vantage point on the deck I could keep a judicious eye on my kids, who were playing on the beach. Not that I worried they’d go in the water. Still no chance of that.

“It’s Saturday. Do you think he had a date?” she asked.

“He said he had work to do. Sounds suspicious to me.”

“Everything sounds suspicious to you.”

“With good reason. If he’s not at the hospital, what could he be doing?”

Her chuckle was loud in my ear. “Maybe he’s a vampire. Or a male escort.”

“Or both,” I mused. “Paige told him she liked his perfume. And Dody asked if he was wearing shoulder pads.”

Dody had yet to give up on the eighties shoulder pad craze, certain it was making a comeback. She heard somewhere, probably during the eighties, that shoulder pads made your hips look slimmer. So she’d tuck in three or four at a time inside her blouse, only she wouldn’t pin them, so inevitably they’d fall down, creating migratory lumps all over her torso. Eventually they’d fall out of her sleeves, leaving a trail like Hansel and Gretel.

“I assume he wasn’t wearing shoulder pads,” Penny said.

“No,” I sighed. “The shoulders were all his own.”

“Did you invite him for dinner?”

“No, because Jasper wasn’t home and I’ve forgotten how to cook. Besides, it would’ve seemed desperate. Anyway, it’s not like I wanted him to stay.” I drained my glass in a final gulp.

“Uh-huh.”

“You know what’s kind of weird, though?”

“Richard’s inordinately huge nostrils?”

“Besides that.” (They weren’t
that
huge, by the way.) “Jordan is starting to trust him. You know how shy and clingy he’s been since Richard left. But after Des changed Dody’s bandage, Jordan started showing him his trucks.”

“Weird,” Penny agreed. “Maybe it’s like how dogs can sense a dog person.”

“You think my kids are like dogs?”

“No. Well, a little. But I mean, maybe he likes kids and they can sense that. He’s an ER doctor, right? He’s probably had lots of practice putting kids at ease.”

Disappointment flicked me in the forehead for not thinking of that on my own. Any connection he had with my kids wasn’t some grand sign from the universe. Once again, it was just his good bedside manner.

CHAPTER 7

“KYLE, THIS IS SADIE. SADIE, this is Kyle.” Fontaine made introductions as we gathered for lunch at an artsy little bistro on Marigold Lane. Bell Harbor was locked in a time warp, but trendy pockets of style could be found amid the tourist traps and antique shops.

Kyle’s thick blond hair was short, and his dark tan set off eyes so brilliantly blue it was impossible to look away. We shook hands, and I expected little sparks to go off he was so supercharged with sexy.

“Sadie, it’s great to meet you. Fontaine has told me so much about you.”

“Only the good stuff,” Fontaine joked.

“There’s only good stuff to tell,” I assured him.

“Please, sit down.” He pulled out my chair.

What a gentleman! I tried to keep my thoughts on business, while silently reprimanding Fontaine. He should have warned me his boss was smokin’! Then it hit me. Maybe that was the whole point. Maybe this whole
professional organizing
thing had been a grand scheme to introduce us! I felt a flush of annoyance. How dare Fontaine manipulate me that way? And yet, this guy was yummy with a capital
yuh
.