Marie Harte - Enjoying the Show

“His name is Gage .”

“Gage what?”

“I don’t know.” Hailey frowned and took a sip of wine. A sip, a nibble of a cracker, a forced date with her fantasy man. She sighed. She and Sydney were as different as night and day. “That’s another condition of our date. He won’t press charges, and when we’re done the date, he’ll tell me his last name.”

Sydney hooted and choked on her next swallow. “My bet is Gage has the hots for you, like any other guy with a pulse. And I think it’s telling he didn’t do anything to you in his place. He could have tried something, you know. But instead he’s meeting you at Kincaid’s. That place is awesome.”

“And expensive.”

“Like you can’t afford it,” Sydney snorted. “You don’t spend money on anything else. When’s the last time you bought some new clothes?”

“I just bought some hose yesterday.” Ha. Take that, Sydney.

“With your taste, control tops. Hell, Hailey, you’re verging on old age and you’ve yet to reach thirty. Grab yourself some thigh-highs and a garter belt. Go sexy and grab that fine man before someone else does.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, oh . Before someone like me grabs him,” Sydney challenged, a sparkle in her eyes. “I’ve been in a dry spell lately, and a night with Mr. Tool would definitely ease my frustration.”

Jealousy suddenly overwhelmed her and Hailey blinked, confused at her feelings.

Sure she’d dreamed about Gage for months, but that didn’t make him hers. Sydney and the others had watched him just as long. So what made her feel so possessive? And why did his hungry gaze not turn her off as so many others had?

“Sydney, let me ask you a question.”

“Shoot.”

She took a deep breath. “Do you think I’m an icy, ah, frigid bitch?”

“ What? Who the hell called you that? Mr. Tool?”

“No, no. I overheard one of the sales guys at work the other day.” She repeated the conversation. “I’m happy now, with my life I mean. I have a decent job, a great new house, and wonderful friends.” She eyed her friend up and down with a grin. “And you.”

“Funny girl.”

“I’m not lonely, exactly, but—”

“You can’t help wondering what it would be like to have a special man in your life.”

“Does that make me desperate?”

“Hell no. I’m there too.” Sydney flashed her a grin. “And I’m not desperate.

Frustrated, like I said, but I’m choosy. When I find the man worthy of giving up Friday nights with my girlfriends, then I’ll know he’s someone special.” She paused. “I think you should give Mr. Tool, I mean Gage, a shot. We know he’s gorgeous, but he sounds interesting. Now most women would call him a pig for forcing you into a dinner with him. But me, I think it’s flattering.”

“I kind of thought so too, after I thought about it a while. And he could have called the cops.”

“Do you think? After all, would they believe him, or a houseful of attractive, single women?” Sydney grinned. “You have to admire his intelligence, and his craftiness. So you spend one dinner with him. It’s not sex, and it’s not forever. Relax and enjoy yourself.” For once , Hailey thought she heard Sydney mutter.

Glaring at her best friend, she took another sip from her glass.

“Are you going to nurse that thing or what?” Sydney asked, exasperated. “You’re as bad as Amy, nibbling at the pretzels. And speaking of Amy…”

Footsteps sounded outside Faith’s apartment and the doorknob rattled.

“Don’t tell them about Gage and me, okay?” Suddenly, it seemed imperative that her big date with her fantasy man be a secret.

“Fine by me. But I want every juicy detail on Sunday.”

“Deal.”

“Welcome back, ladies,” Sydney said with a mock toast as the door finally opened.

The women poured in with arms full of liquor and snacks. “Don’t worry. Hailey and I spent the past two hours being questioned by the police for being stalkers.”

“What?” Beth squeaked, and Hailey laughed.

“She’s just teasing. Now how about some Sex and the City , girls?”

Everyone began talking and laughing at once, and Hailey settled back into her Friday night routine, doing her level best not to think of the man across the complex.

Saturday morning, sitting in his mother’s spacious kitchen, Gage stared at his brother Dylan with a scowl. Derrick, Dylan’s twin, sat with a cup of coffee halfway to his mouth before he began laughing like a loon.

“You’re telling me to skip dinner and take Hailey back to my place for a quick fuck?

This from Mr. Romance?”

Dylan shrugged. “Sorry, but you asked for my professional opinion.”

“Hell no, I didn’t. I asked for advice from my brother , not Freud’s worst nightmare of a psychiatrist.”

“I resent that.”

“You resemble that,” Derrick murmured. “I’m still not quite sure. Are you gay, straight or bi? And do thoughts of our mother make you long for the professional couch, or for the Oedipal bed?”

Gage chuckled as Dylan glared at Derrick. Good. Now they were attacking each other and leaving him alone.

“I like sex, and I love people. Why do you have to label it, Derrick? Some homophobia going on in what passes for that brain of yours?” Dylan taunted.

“Yeah, I’m homophobic,” Derrick sneered. “Get away, oooh, you’re scaring me.”

“Asshole.”

“Hey, twin schmucks, hello? Remember me? I came for some advice. And if the best you have is bag and tag her, Dylan, I guess I’ll have to listen to Derrick.”

The horror on Dylan’s face was priceless. “Okay, forget I said that. You have a thing for this woman, right?”

Suddenly uncomfortable, Gage shrugged. “I guess.”

Derrick scoffed. “You guess? You’ve been trying to summon up the guts to ask her out for over six months! And you all but stalked her, talking up her friends, her coworkers and her realtor, for God’s sake.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“I used to date Amanda, and she mentioned you’d been asking about that house on Delcourt.”

“Bullshit. I said hi to Amanda the other day, but I looked up the listing info online.

You’re the one with a thing for Hailey’s friend. That’s right,” he said as Derrick frowned.

“I saw you eyeing her like a piece of candy. And I didn’t want to say anything then, but you had one hell of a boner while staring her way.”

Dylan smirked, and Derrick shoved at Gage’s chair with his foot, making him almost fall over. “So, you two are in quite a tangle, eh? Gage wants the blonde, and you the redhead. But at least Gage knows his heart’s desire.”

“‘Heart’s desire?’ Who the hell talks like that?” Gage shook his head.

“Men who get lucky, that’s who. Instead of acting like a coarse laborer who doesn’t know his left from his right—”

“Which he is,” Derrick muttered.

“—act with some couth and compliment the woman, and on more than her tits and ass.”

“Dylan Jacob Warren, what did you just say?” Barbara Warren entered her kitchen with a stunned look on her face.

Dylan grew bright red. “Oh, hi, Mom. We were just waiting here to meet you for breakfast. And I was, ah, giving Gage some advice.”

She eyed the three of them like the troublemakers they were. “Well, Gage, at least you didn’t ask Derrick for advice. He’s the king of uncommitted.”

“Hey.” Derrick looked wounded for all of three seconds, and then he grinned. “Want me to do the eggs?”

“Oh, just sit over there with your brothers. You can pour me a cup of coffee though.”

Gage settled onto a stool as he and his brothers watched their mother cook. It had become a tradition for them to gather once a week, usually Saturdays when possible, in their parents’ home for a meal. Personally, Gage loved the idea. He had a decent, homecooked meal and saw his mother, with his brothers as buffers. They all loved her, but when she turned on the shrink within, she could grate on even a saint’s nerves after mere minutes.