Just Curious (6 page)

“Getting you back for all those women who were too timid to stand up to you,” she said, smiling wickedly.

“I am not the monster you think I am.”

“I shall ask Elaine's opinion on that. By the way, when is she coming?”

From the look on his face as they reached the back of the church, Karen regretted her remark.

“Christmas Day,” he said softly, then turned away from her.

The rehearsal dinner was loud, with everyone talking at once about summers they had spent together and places they had visited. At first Karen looked at her food and listened but didn't participate in the conversation among these people who knew each other so well. Taggert sat on the other side of the big table, at the opposite end from her, and he, too, was quiet. Every once in a while, Karen glanced toward him and thought she saw him looking at her, but he turned away so quickly that she wasn't sure.

“Karen,” one of the women said and the whole table quietened. “Where is your engagement ring?”

She didn't hesitate before she spoke. “Taggert had bought all the store had, so they're awaiting a new shipment of diamonds. He buys them by the dozen, you know.”

The windows of the restaurant nearly exploded with the laughter of the diners, and even Mac laughed as Steve, next to him, slapped him on the back.

There were calls of, “I think you ought to keep this one, Mac,” and, “It looks as though your taste in women is improving.”

For the rest of the meal, Karen wasn't allowed to sit in silence. The two women across from her asked many questions about what she did and where she'd grown up and all the normal questions that people ask. When she told them that Mac was her boss, they were fascinated and wanted to know what it was like working for him.

“Lonely,” she answered. “He doesn't need any of us, except to type a letter now and then.”

Through all of this, Taggert ate his dinner without saying a word, but Karen could feel his eyes on her and even when Steve leaned forward to say something to him, Mac's eyes never left Karen's face.

It wasn't until they were alone in “their” room that Karen thought maybe she'd gone a little too far. “About tonight …” she began as he walked past her out of the bathroom. “Maybe I shouldn't have—”

“Going to chicken out on me now?” he asked, his face very close to hers.

Inconsequentially, Karen thought, he has a beautiful
mouth. But she recovered herself and stood up straight. “No, of course not.”

“Good. Now, what did you do with my sweatpants?”

“Isn't it a little late for sports?” she said without thinking, not that it was any of her business what he did when.

Mac gave her a one-sided smile. “Unless you want me sleeping raw, they're the only alternative.”

“Third drawer left,” she said as she scurried into the bathroom. When she emerged, swathed in a puritanical white cotton nightgown, he was already in bed, and there was a long, thick bolster pillow down the center of the bed. Slipping into the vacant side of the bed, she said, “Where did you get this?”

“Stole it.”

“So I guess some poor unfortunate is sleeping on a couch without a back cushion.”

“Want me to take it back? You could sleep snuggled up with me or, better yet, we could have a serious discussion about this jar that you want me to—”

“Good night,” she said firmly, then turned on her side away from him, but she was smiling as she fell asleep.

K
AREN AWOKE TO THE SIGHT OF A GORGEOUS MAN WEARING
only a thick white towel about his waist, standing before the bathroom mirror shaving. In those few minutes before she awoke fully and remembered where she was, she had a vision of him coming toward her, kissing her, then tossing the towel aside and climbing into bed with her. For just those few seconds she could remember clearly how it felt to have a man in her arms, the size of him, the warmth of his skin, the weight of him, the—

“Want to share that thought?” he asked, not turning his head but looking at her in the mirror.

Turning away so he couldn't see her red face, she rolled
out of bed, grabbed her robe, and moved toward the closet, out of his line of vision.

“What do you have planned for today?” he asked, coming out of the bathroom, still wearing only that tiny towel and wiping excess lather from his face.

Karen flung open a closet door so she couldn't see him. Did he work out every day? He must to keep his body looking like that. And was that warm honey his natural skin color? “Shopping,” she mumbled.

“Shopping?” he asked, moving around the door to the other side of her. “As in Christmas shopping?”

“I, ah,” she said, studiously looking at the clothes hanging inside, yet seeing nothing. “Yes, Christmas shopping. And a wedding gift.” She took a deep breath. She
had
to get hold of herself! Turning, she looked into his eyes—and not one inch lower. “Tomorrow is Christmas and if I'm to spend it with these people, I can't very well turn up empty-handed. Do you know a good shopping mall around here?”

“Tysons Corner,” he said quickly. “One of the best in the country. And I need to buy gifts, too, so I'll go with you.”

“No!” Karen blurted, then tried to recover herself. “I mean, I concentrate better when I'm by myself.” Even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. Christmas shopping alone became a chore.

“And how will you know who to buy for? Even how many kids are here? I assume you want to buy for the kids.”

“Write down all the names for me and I'll get everything.” She did not want to spend the day with this man—and it was getting very difficult to keep her eyes off the muscles of his chest.

“I don't have a pencil,” he said, smiling. “Everything is in my head.”

Karen almost smiled back at him. “You can dictate them to me. Besides, wouldn't you rather stay here and play football with the other guys?”

“I am a fat, out-of-shape desk jockey and they'd cream me.”

At that Karen did laugh, for there was no one who was less out of shape than he was.

Without waiting for her to say yes, he grabbed a terrycloth robe from the closet, put it on, then kissed her cheek. “Pick me out some clothes, would you? I have to make some calls. I'll be back for you in thirty minutes.”

Before Karen could protest, he was out of the room, the door closed behind him. Of course, she thought, feminists everywhere would shudder at the notion of her choosing the clothing of an autocratic, arrogant, presumptuous man like Mac Taggert. But by the time she'd completed this thought, she had draped a pair of dark wool trousers, an Italian shirt, and a heavenly English sweater across the bed. Shaking her head in disgust at herself, she went into the bathroom.

An hour later, after a quick breakfast, she and Mac were walking to the rental car, and on the lawn were the bridegroom and other men playing ball. Steve shouted to Mac, asking him to come play with them.

“She's forcing me to go shopping with her,” he yelled back.

“Ha!” Karen called to them over the roof of the car. “Like I need a man to go shopping with me, right? Truth is, he's afraid to stay here because you might hurt him.”

Ignoring the laughter of the men, Mac shouted, “What do you want us to get you for a wedding gift?”

“From you, Taggert?” Steve called. “A Lamborghini. But from her, I'll take anything she offers.”

“I'll second that,” one of the other men called, then they all laughed in a very complimentary way.

Feeling quite flattered, Karen smiled brilliantly at all the young men playing touch football and she smiled even more brightly when she saw that Mac was frowning. “What a very nice group of people,” she said as she got into the car.

Mac, his body twisted as he looked out the back window while he drove the car out in reverse, maneuvering it around the many other vehicles in the drive, didn't answer her.

Maybe it was because of the men's flirting with her and Mac's resultant silence, but by the time they arrived at the beautiful Tysons Corner mall, Karen was in very good spirits.

“Where do we begin?” she asked as soon as they'd
entered the center of the mall near Hecht's. Looking up at him, she saw that male shrug that meant that she was in charge. “Elephant time,” she muttered.

“I beg your pardon,” he said stiffly.

“It's what I used to say when I was with my husband and we went shopping together. He'd refuse to participate in deciding what to buy anyone, but he'd carry anything I handed him. I called him my elephant.”

For a moment Mac seemed to consider this, then he solemnly lifted his right arm, clenched his fist, and made his biceps bulge through his sweater. “I can carry anything you can pack onto me.”

Karen laughed. “We shall see about that. By the way, if, as you said, ‘we' are giving gifts, who's paying for these things?”

“Me?” he said with a mock sigh, as though he'd always paid for everything she'd ever bought.

“Perfect,” she said over her shoulder as she took a right and headed for Nordstrom's. “Your money, my taste.”

“Just give me a peanut now and then and I'll be fine,” he said from behind her.

Three hours later, Karen was exhausted but exhilarated. She'd completely forgotten what it was like to shop with a man. He never wanted to take the time to consider which of any two purchases was better. “This one,” he'd say, or, “What does it matter?” And when it came to gift suggestions, he could rarely think past the music store. Twice she had him sit on benches, surrounded by shopping bags, while she went into stores and purchased sets of soaps and lotions, and some fruit and cheese baskets. She almost couldn't get him out of the Rand McNally shop, where he purchased a huge 3-D puzzle of the Empire State Building. And they visited all nine toy stores and made purchases from each one, so many purchases in fact that Karen suspected that they'd bought more toys than there were children.

“Does lunch come with this trip?” he asked after they'd visited the very last toy store the mall had to offer.

“Are you
sure
you want to eat? I think there was a toy car still left in that last store. Maybe you should go back and get it.”

“Food, woman!” he growled, leading the way to the Nordstrom's cafe, where they placed their orders, then took their drinks and found a seat where Mac could put all the bags, for he wouldn't allow Karen to carry anything.

“You're a good elephant,” she said as soon as they were seated, smiling at him.

After they were situated, he looked at her. “What plans have you made for Lawson's Department Store?”

Karen was in too good a mood to lie. “You don't have to patronize me. And you don't have to listen to my childish ideas. For all that this has been great fun today, you and I both know that as soon as we get back to Denver, it will end. You're the boss and I'm just a typist.”

“Just a typist, are you?” he said, one eyebrow raised as he reached down the neck of his sweater to his shirt pocket and pulled out several folded fax sheets. “You, your husband, and Stanley Thompson owned Thompson's Hardware Store for six years. You and your husband were everything to the store. Stanley Thompson was deadweight.”

As Karen looked at him in astonishment, he continued.

“After you two were married, Ray worked two jobs, while you typed manuscripts at home. You two saved every penny you had and bought a half share in Thompson's Hardware and you turned the place around. Ray knew about machines; you knew everything else. You wrote ads that made people come to the store and you handled the money, telling Ray how much you could and could not afford. It was your idea to add the little garden center and bring in women customers, and that was the most profitable part of the store. After Ray died you found out that the only way Thompson had originally been willing to sell to him was on the condition that on Ray's death he could buy you out for fifty grand.”

“It was fair at the time the deal was made,” Karen said defensively, as though he were saying that Ray had made a bad contract.

“Yes, at the time of purchase, half a share was only worth thirty thousand, but by the time he'd died, you and Ray had built up the business so a half share was worth a great deal more than fifty grand.”

“I could have stayed as a full partner,” Karen said softly.

“If you shared Stanley Thompson's bed.”

“You do snoop, don't you?”

“Just curious,” he said, eyes twinkling at her as their food was set before them. After the waitress left, he said, “You want to tell me about your ideas for this store for mothers?”

“I haven't really thought about it, just some vague ideas,” she said, playing with the straw in her glass of iced tea.

At that Mac gave a little snort of laughter and pushed a pen and a napkin toward her. “If you had unlimited money and owned Lawson's Department Store, what would you do with it?”

Karen hesitated but not for long. Truth was, she
had
thought about this for quite some time. “I'd put a children's play area in the center so mothers could watch their children at all times. If a mother is to be there a while, I'd tag the kids. You know, like clothing in department stores, so if the children wander outside the play area or someone tries to take them, bells go off as they exit the store.”

Mac said nothing but his eyebrows were raised in question.

“They put tags on clothing so people can't steal them and children are a great deal more important than shirts, aren't they? And how can a woman try on clothes in comfort with a four-year-old screaming at her?”

After taking a bite of her food, she continued. “Surrounding the play area I'd have different departments: maternity wear, furniture, layettes, books on the various aspects of raising children, all the visual things. And I'd have clerks who were extremely experienced. And fat.”