Joyce Rialto and Francie Morelli had been best friends since the first grade, sharing everything over the years from loss of boyfriends to loss of virginity, so Joyce was practically bursting at the seams to tell Francie her news. Pushing aside the carton of Neapolitan ice cream they'd been sharing in Joyce's kitchen, Joyce blurted, "I'm getting married!"
"What?" Francie's eyes widened. "When? Who? Eddie Bertucci? But…" She shook her head, pasting on a smile. "I mean… That's wonderful, Joyce." Francie gave her friend a hug, but it was clear to Joyce that she wasn't thrilled with the news. Francie was not an Eddie admirer.
Scrunching up her nose, Joyce made a face of disgust. "Get real, Francie. Not even I'm that hard up. I'm not marrying smelly Eddie." Joyce dated Eddie for convenience and because…well, it was nice having a man beg for her attention for a change. It was a definite ego boost, and Joyce's ego needed a lot of boosting. And to be honest, it was great having someone to go out with and, yes, have sex with. Eddie wasn't the greatest in bed, but what he lacked in expertise he made up for in enthusiasm, even if he did have a perspiration problem that even Dial couldn't touch.
"I don't know who I'm going to marry yet. Only that I intend to marry someone. I've made up my mind. And you know how I am once my mind is made up."
"Has that red hair dye you've been using addled your brain? You've always said that being single was the only way to go, that you didn't want a bunch of kids tugging at your ankles, and now you want to get married?"
"That's true. But that was before my biological clock went bonkers. And now that most of my friends are married or engaged, there doesn't seem any point for me not to get married. And it'll make Ma happy. I'm sure you can identify with that."
Francie, who knew a thing or two about parental pressure after three failed wedding attempts, rolled her eyes. "But who do you have in mind? You and Eddie haven't been dating seriously, and you haven't mentioned that you were seeing anyone else."
"I haven't been. But that's going to change now that I've made up my mind to get hitched. I figure it'll be like implementing any other plan: I just have to figure out the kind of man I want to marry, and then go find him. It shouldn't be that difficult. Philadelphia is a big city."
"Listen, Joyce, I don't want to put a damper on your enthusiasm or burst your bubble, but as your best friend I have to remind you that hanging on to the various men in your life hasn't been all that easy for you. You're very outspoken and direct. You tend to scare off most men. And sometimes you can come across as…well, a bit desperate."
Hurt filled Joyce's eyes. "Gee, thanks. I thought you were my friend."
"I am, which is why I'm trying to be truthful. You might just be desperate enough to find some guy to marry who is even more awful than Eddie, not that that's possible, mind you. He's pretty damn awful."
"Eddie has his good points. He isn't cheap, like some of the guys I've dated. He took me to see Mamma Mia and we stayed at the Plaza."
"And I'm sure you paid in full."
"Come on, Francie, give me a break. You sound holier than thou. And I know for a fact that you've put out on more than one occasion. You've no right to judge me."
"I know. I'm sorry, Joyce," Francie said, looking genuinely contrite. "I didn't mean to sound judgmental. I'm just worried about you. That's all. I don't want you rushing into anything and ruining your life."
"Well, don't be. Come Monday morning I'm going to head into work and find the man of my dreams."
Francie's mouth unhinged, nearly hitting her chin. "You're going to find someone at Neiman Marcus to marry?"
Grinning, Joyce nodded. "Neiman's has everything a girl could possibly want. So why not a man?"
Josh Faber hated his part-time security job at Neiman's. He worked the 6 p.m. to midnight shift, which was boring as hell, but it gave him the extra income he needed to pursue his real avocation: writing mystery novels. He wrote for a few hours every night after work and when he could fit it in around Jake's schedule.
Josh's hours allowed him to spend more time with his son and have dinner with Jake in the evening before handing him over to the baby-sitter. It also allowed him to be home with Jake during the day. His boy was four and at an age when he needed the extra attention, especially now that his mother wasn't around to provide it. Leslie had remarried and moved to Oregon; apparently Jake didn't fit into her plans to be a corporate executive's wife.
"Selfish bitch!" he muttered, walking toward the back of the store lost in thought. Suddenly he heard a rustling sound coming from the lingerie department. Moving toward the dressing rooms, he paused and listened, positive now that there was someone hiding in one of the changing rooms.
Pulling out his gun, he walked cautiously forward and, when he reached the dressing room, pulled open the door, startling the occupant, who screamed. She turned on him, an angry look on her face as she tried to cover her half-naked body. Dressed in a black teddy that did little to hide her ample curves, Josh found the woman very appealing…for a criminal.
"Who the hell are you?" she asked. "And why are you pointing that gun at me?"
Red hair. It figured. Every red-haired woman he knew had a big mouth and a nasty temper. "I work here, and you're trespassing. The store closed an hour ago. You shouldn't be back here."
"I work here, you dolt. I'm manager of this department. And if I want to stay here all night and try on clothes, I will."
"Maybe you're telling the truth, maybe not." He waved his gun, motioning for her to come out. "Step into the light, so I can get a better look at you."
Her dark eyes narrowed. "Oh, you'd like that, you pervert. I'm not dressed, as you can see. And you can quit drooling because I'm not interested."
Josh nearly grinned. The woman had guts — he'd give her that — not to mention nice legs. Too bad she was such a harridan. "What's your name?"
"Joyce Rialto. I can show you my Neiman's employee identification card. It's in my purse, which is in the cabinet below the cash register."
"Come out and get it. And be quick about it, or I'm going to call the police."
Her eyes widened. "But I thought you were the police."
"I'm store security, but I can detain you for arrest if necessary, so don't push your luck. Just do what I tell you."
Grabbing a sweater from the dressing room chair, the woman moved to the cash register area, where she located her purse and identity card, handing it over to him. "Are you satisfied?" she asked, smiling smugly. "Now don't you feel stupid?"
Handing it back, Josh tried to keep his temper in check. "I'm just doing my job, Miss Rialto. Most employees don't hang out after work, trying on clothing. Your behavior is strange, to say the least."
"I was bored. It's been a slow night. We just got in a new shipment of teddies and nightgowns, so I decided to try a few on."
"That black thing looks good on you."
The anger in her eyes subsided somewhat; she looked him over from top to bottom, reassessing and reconsidering. "What's your name? I don't recall seeing you around here before. Are you new?"
"The name's Josh Faber. I've been here about a month, working the evening shift. The uniforms are new, which is probably why you didn't recognize me as store security."
"I don't mean to be rude, Mr. Faber, but have you ever considered getting a real job? I mean, rent-a-cops are all well and good, but they're still not the real thing, now are they?"
"I would think, Miss Rialto, that you could put that big mouth of yours to better use. I can give you some suggestions, if you like."
After her humiliating encounter with the rent-a-cop, Joyce had quickly left Neiman's and hurried out to the parking garage, eager to put the embarrassing episode behind her.
Imagine being mistaken for a shoplifter! It was obvious that Josh Faber was a rank amateur when it came to police work. As manager of her own department, Joyce's hours varied. She enjoyed working the evening shift because the customers were few and she could spend her free time after the store closed doing what she loved most: trying on new merchandise. She considered it a major job perk.
Now she stood by her car in the dimly lit garage, wondering how she would get home. She'd just discovered that her car battery was dead — again — because, in her eagerness to get to work and check out the new lingerie shipment, she'd absentmindedly left her lights on — again.
Stupid Car! Joyce cursed inwardly. Now how am I supposed to get home?
"Do you have a problem?"
Startled, Joyce clutched her throat and turned to find the security guard standing behind her. "You mean, other than the fact that you're still breathing? Do you enjoy scaring the hell out of me, Mr. Faber?"
"Sorry," Josh said, but he was smiling, which infuriated Joyce on two counts: one, because…well, he smiled, and two, because he had dimples. She had a thing about men with dimples.
"My car battery's dead. And why are you following me? I haven't stolen anything, if that's what you're worried about."
"I didn't want you coming out to the parking garage alone; it's not safe after-hours. Though with your sharp tongue, I'm sure you could cut any assailant to ribbons."
His harsh criticism forced Joyce to think of Francie's comment about how outspoken she was and how she usually scared off most men. Well, apparently she hadn't scared off the rent-a-cop, which made him seem all that more interesting. And Josh Faber was certainly handsome, with his black hair and piercing blue eyes. "I didn't mean to be rude earlier, but you startled me. You seem to do that a lot."
He grinned again, and Joyce's heart tap-danced. "Do you need a ride home?" he asked. "There are two of us working a staggered shift tonight, so I'm able to leave early."
Joyce pondered her options. She could either accept his offer or take a taxi, which would cost a fortune, or walk. The choice was obvious.
"Normally I don't accept rides from strangers, but seeing as how you've seen me half-naked, I guess we aren't strangers anymore. So yes."
After climbing into his SUV and reciting her address, she asked, "Are you married?" Might as well get the big one out of the way.
Josh glanced over at her. "Not anymore. What about you?"
She shook her head. "Not yet, but I'd like to be. I'm bored with the single life. All my friends are either married or engaged. It's time I took the plunge and settled down."
"I liked being married. And I've got a great kid to show for it."
"You have a child?" Divorced with children meant baggage, not that Joyce considered Josh a groom candidate. He was probably bitter toward women, which would account for his earlier rudeness. And she was looking for someone a bit more…well, pliable.
"Jake's four. Leslie didn't want custody, which saved me the trouble of going to court to get it. She wasn't cut out to be a mother. I won't make the same mistake twice."
Joyce, who adored kids, couldn't understand how a woman could give up her own child. "Sounds like your son is much better off with you."
Her comment seemed to please him, and he smiled softly, making Joyce quiver in areas that hadn't quivered in a very long time. "Jake misses his mom, but we're getting along okay. I work at home during the day, so I'm able to spend a lot of time with Jake. My next-door neighbor watches him in the evening."
"That's lucky. What sort of work do you do?"
"I'm a writer. I've published three mystery novels."
Joyce's eyes widened. "Wow! I've never met a real-live author before."
"Yeah? Well, it's a lot harder to meet the dead ones."
Joyce laughed. Then a thought struck her. Authors were rich or, if not rich, at least interesting. And intelligent. Eddie was dumb as a stump, and that was after you got past the smell. Josh smelled and looked mighty good. "So, are you turned off by marriage?"
"Not at all. I'm sure I'll get married again one day, once I find the right woman. But I'm going to be damn picky the next time. I'm in no hurry."
Hmmm. Author searches for wife; single-minded woman who reeks perfection searches for husband. The possibilities were astounding.
"I'm available."
"I'm available," she had said, and then added with a seductive smile, "for baby-sitting."
But Josh had a feeling that Joyce Rialto had meant something else. And that intrigued him. She intrigued him. The redhead was brash and outspoken and nothing at all like the women he usually dated.
He'd bet money that she was hot in bed, and Josh had half a mind to take her up on her offer. Whatever that offer might be. He wasn't interested in anything permanent, but sex without strings was an appealing prospect.
Of course, he could have had all the sex he wanted from his son's baby-sitter. Linda Potts had made numerous offers. She was divorced and, he suspected, lonely. But as fond as he was of her, he just wasn't interested in Linda sexually. Maybe it was the fact that she was too eager, too desperate to get married again. And there was the spark factor: there was none.
Checking his watch, he noted the time as he walked to Linda's apartment and knocked. He had called from his cell phone, after dropping Joyce off at her apartment, to let Linda know he'd be picking up Jake sooner than expected. "I'm glad you got off early tonight," she said upon opening the door. "Jake's been running a fever. I gave him some children's Tylenol, and he seems a bit better. But you might want to call the doctor tomorrow if he's still feeling under the weather."
At the news, Josh grew anxious. Illness was the one thing about being a single parent that he hadn't mastered. It terrified him whenever Jake got sick. Fortunately, it didn't happen very often. "Is he asleep?"
The attractive blonde nodded. "Yes, for hours now. Would you care to stay for coffee? I made a banana cream pie."
He shook his head. "No, thanks, maybe some other time. I've got a chapter to finish before I hit the sheets. Jake wakes up pretty early in the morning." A full night's sleep had become a luxury. "But I appreciate your taking such good care of Jake. It's a relief to know he's in such capable hands."
"I'm very fond of him, Josh. You know that. We get along great."
It was true. Jake worshiped the ground Linda walked on, and vice versa. But Josh worried that they were getting too close and that Jake would suffer for that attachment in the long run. His son was the most important thing to him in the world; Josh didn't want to see him hurt again. "You've been great to help me out with Jake. I'm not sure what I would have done after Leslie left, if you hadn't offered to care for him."
Caressing his cheek, Linda shot him a sensual smile full of promise. "I love Jake, but I can offer you more than just baby-sitting, Josh. I know we'd be good together, if you want to take this relationship further and see what develops."
Josh took a deep breath, not wanting to hurt her, but knowing that was impossible now. "I appreciate your honesty, Linda, so I hope you'll appreciate mine. I'm not interested in you in that way. You're a great person, and I like you a lot, but I see you as a good friend, nothing more. And it's too soon for me to get involved with anyone. I need more time to get my life back together. Divorce has been hard on both me and Jake."
Hurt filled her eyes, but she didn't cry. "Then perhaps it would be better if you found another sitter. I don't think I can do this anymore. I'm getting too emotionally attached." She didn't say to which one of them.
He nodded. "I understand. And I appreciate all you've done for Jake and me. You've been a wonderful friend to both of us. As I said, we would have been lost this past year without you."
Without blinking an eye, Linda dropped her bombshell. "I'm leaving tomorrow to travel to upstate New York. My aunt is ill. So it'll have to be sooner than later, I'm afraid."
At the obvious lie, panic surged through Josh. "But who am I going to get on such short notice?" He wouldn't leave Jake with strangers. He'd heard the horror stories about mistreatment and abuse and refused to do that.
And then, he remembered Joyce's offer.
Joyce stood at the kitchen sink, washing the same dish over and over again, thinking about her recent encounter with Josh. He was handsome. And nice, once you got past his authoritarian manner. After all, he did rescue her from the deserted parking garage and drive her home tonight. That was worth considering, even if he was bossy and somewhat of a tight-ass. Speaking of which, his ass was very…
The phone rang, interrupting her lurid thoughts. Wiping her hands, she reached for the receiver and found Francie on the other end of the line. "Hey! Hope I'm not calling too late."
"Not at all. I just got home a little while ago."
"Hot date, huh? Guess you must have found the man of your dreams today," Francie teased. "That was quick."
"As a matter of fact, I might have." Well, it was possible. Sort of.
"Get out! I don't believe you. Who's this prince charming who has already swept you off your feet? Anyone I know?"
"No. It's Neiman's new security guy. We met under rather unusual circumstances." She explained, and Francie began laughing, rather hysterically, which Joyce found irksome.
"This guy's already seen you in your underwear? That's too funny. Well, I always did say you were a fast worker, Joyce. And he won't have any unfulfilled expectations, now will he?"
"Ha! True. But anyway, Josh isn't really my type. I mean, he's cute and he seems nice, but he's got a kid and he's not looking to get hitched anytime soon."
Incredulity filling her voice, Francie asked, "You just met this guy and you already know he's not interested in marriage? What did you do, ask him? Damn, Joyce, but you're blunt."
"Sort of. We were discussing marriage, and it came up."
"Did you scare him off? You do that a lot, you know."
Joyce shrugged, but only her cat, Barnaby, padding across the counter, noticed. "Probably. I kind of insulted him, too."
"Please tell me you didn't."
"I called him a rent-a-cop, sort of implied he should get a real job." Well, he had annoyed her. A lot. And she did have somewhat of a bad temper and sharp tongue but only when pushed, like most hot-blooded Italians.
"Holy shit, Joyce! You're too outspoken for your own —"
Saved by call-waiting! "Hold on. I've got a beep." Joyce clicked over and said, "Hello," wondering who else could be calling at such a late hour.
"This is Josh Faber, Joyce. I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
Her heart started tapping triple time. "Uh, hold on one second."
Joyce clicked back to Francie. "It's him — Josh. I gotta go. I'll call you back."
"Don't insult him again, okay?"
Filing away her friend's advice, Joyce said to Josh, "Sorry. I was on the other line when you called. Is there a problem?"
"You mean, other than the fact that I'm still breathing?"
Joyce felt her face heat and was thankful she hadn't remembered to tell Francie about the other insult. "I was just kidding about that."
"I was calling to see if your offer was still good."
"My offer?" What offer was he talking about?
"You said you were available. I was hoping to take you up on that."
"Available?" Joyce asked, her heart thudding so wildly against her ribs she thought they might break. Josh obviously liked her. He was interested in getting to know her better, take her out, wine-and-dine her. Maybe he would propose marriage. Well, it was possible. Sort of.
"I'm in a bind, Joyce. My baby-sitter just quit and I need someone to watch Jake for a few evenings, just until I can find a replacement. You did say you were available for baby-sitting."
Joyce's balloon burst with a major Whap! and the hot air she'd been spewing mentally rained down over her head. "Baby-sit? You called to ask me to baby-sit?"
"Yeah. I know it's short notice, and that we don't know each other very well, but I don't know anyone else to ask, and you said you liked kids, so I just thought —"
She could picture him shrugging those big shoulders — the ones she might have seen naked if she didn't have such a big mouth. "I'm not really sure. Though I make the schedule for my department, I'm expected to work a few evenings per week. And I also do my paperwork at night — ordering, inventory, that sort of thing." Both excuses were true, but she could work around them quite easily if she wanted to.
The real reason she'd hesitated was that she didn't know much about caring for children. She'd grown up an only child. Well, except for her sister, Melissa, but she didn't count, because Joyce and Melissa couldn't stand each other. And that was putting it mildly.
"You could bring your work over here with you. Or if it makes it easier, I could drop Jake off at your house before heading over to Neiman's. You wouldn't have to feed him. But I understand if you have to work. It's your call."
Joyce didn't have a very big apartment. She had only the one bedroom, but the sofa in the living room was a sleeper, so she guessed she could put Josh's son there. She'd rather put Josh to bed, but that wasn't in the cards at the moment. Of course, it could be, if he found her to be a really super-duper, competent mother figure.
"If you don't mind my asking, or even if you do, why did your other sitter quit?"
He paused momentarily, as if considering whether he would answer, then said, "Linda had illusions about what our relationship should be. They didn't match mine, and when I told her so, she quit. I feel really bad about it. I wasn't trying to lead her on or anything. I liked her, but only as a friend."
Shit! Joyce had her own illusions, which were probably pretty similar to the ex-baby-sitter's. Who wouldn't, after seeing Josh in the flesh? The man was a walking orgasm, and she hadn't had one lately, at least, not one that didn't come with a battery.
"I suppose if it's only for a few days I can do it. After all, you did come to my rescue this evening." After scaring the hell out of me and threatening to arrest me. "I think I'd rather sit Jake over at my place. It'll be easier for me." And her mother lived close by, in case of an emergency.
Mothers knew all about vomiting, diarrhea and runny noses — all that yucky stuff that Joyce hated. She was not into bodily fluids and functions, except for ones of a sexual nature.
"Great! I really appreciate your doing this. And I'll do my best to make it up to you. Just name your price."
"I won't take your money, but I may think of something else down the road." Like a back rub, a bubble bath, or maybe he could suck her —
"I haven't met many women like you, Joyce. I'm glad we'll have the opportunity to get to know each other better."
Toes! She was going to say toes.
"That would be nice," she replied, swallowing the lump lodged in her throat. Lurid and lascivious thoughts were not conducive to telephone chatter, she finally decided, sliding down the wall into a heap on the floor and hoping her batteries didn't need recharging.
Joyce was still bleary-eyed the next morning, due mostly to the fact that it was only six a.m. and she'd been fast asleep, when an impatient knocking sounded at the door.
As soon as she opened the front door, Olivia Rialto burst into the apartment, frowning deeply. But then, Joyce's mother frowned a lot. "What's this I hear about you getting married? Weren't you going to tell me? What am I, chopped liver?"
"Hi, Ma, nice to see you, too. How did you get out of your coffin so early?" It was an old high school joke. Joyce referred to her mother as "Dracula," because she sucked the lifeblood out of people, while Francie called her mom "The Terminator," for reasons that became quite apparent after you met Josephine Morelli.
"Very funny. See how I'm laughing. You should show respect to your mother. I'm an old woman. How many years could I have left?"
"You should quit coming over at the crack of dawn then. I was asleep."
Tossing her tweed coat on the sofa, Olivia ignored the suggestion, asking, "So, who is this man you are going to marry?"
"Where did you hear such a thing?" Joyce padded barefoot into the kitchen to turn on the coffeepot. She needed at least five cups before she could function, six when her mother put in an appearance.
"Josephine told me. Francie told her mother that you were thinking about getting married. We've been friends for years, so Josie understood how humiliated I was that I had to find out from a friend, not my own daughter, about such an important event."
"I'm not getting married yet, Ma. It's merely a plan that I'm putting into motion. You should be happy that I've decided to settle down. You've been after me to do it for years."
"I don't know why you didn't just marry Eddie Bertucci." Her mother looked disappointed. "I like Eddie. He's a nice guy."
"I wouldn't marry Eddie if he was the last man on earth. By the way, I may need your help. I'm going to start baby-sitting a friend's child tonight, so if there's a problem, I may have to call you. I don't know much about kids, especially the male variety."
"It's nice to know I'm good for something," her mother replied, seating herself at the kitchen table and taking the coffee mug her daughter handed her. "Of course I'll help. That's what mothers are for. Whose child is it?"
"A man I work with. His sitter quit, and he's in a bind. I'm helping him out for a few days."
Olivia's eyes lit. "Ah, the man who works at Neiman's — the potential groom. Francie did tell her mother that the man you were marrying came from the store where you worked."
"Francie has a big mouth. Josh and I don't really know each other that well, so don't reserve the church just yet. He's divorced and not looking for a wife."
"Men are never looking to get married, Joyce. It's we women who change their minds. If you and this man are meant to be, then you will know soon enough."
"It's called chemistry, Ma." And she and Josh had plenty of it. Joyce's blood sizzled whenever she got within walking or talking distance of the man. The good news was that he didn't seem averse to her charms, either.
Thank God for black teddies and cars that didn't start!
"So when are you going to see him again? I want to meet him."
"Tonight. And you're not going to meet him, Ma. I haven't equipped Josh with his garlic necklace or gold crucifix yet. It wouldn't be a fair match-up."
Joyce was dressed in what she considered her best all-purpose seduction outfit: black leather pants and a fuzzy gold angora sweater. She'd doused herself in Ralph Lauren's Romance and had made sure her legs were stubble free. She might not be a Boy Scout, but Joyce liked to be prepared, just in case.
Of course, not everyone appreciated the efforts she had gone to.
"What's that yucky smell, Dad?" Jake Faber wanted to know upon entering Joyce's apartment. "Smells like a dead mouse or something. I hate it!"
Josh smiled apologetically. "Sorry. Jake's a bit outspoken." He turned to his son. "Jake, say hello to Miss Rialto. She's going to take care of you."
The child shook his head. "Don't want her. Where's Linda? I like Linda."
Ruffling his son's brown hair affectionately, Josh said, "Linda's gone on a trip. She won't be taking care of you anymore. I've already explained that Miss Rialto is going to be your baby-sitter for the time being."
"Don't like her. She smells funny."
Joyce, who'd been listening to the exchange as if she were having an out-of-body experience, gritted her teeth and smiled. "I'm sorry you don't like my perfume, Jake. Maybe you can help me pick out another kind." And maybe pigs will fly!
"Your perfume is nice, Joyce," Josh said. "Jake's just put-out because his circumstances have changed. It'll take him a while to get used to you."
Nice! Dogs were nice. Librarians were nice. Kisses were nice. Not perfume.
"We'll be fine," Joyce said with a lot more confidence than she felt. Not only was she going to be stuck taking care of a kid who hated her, Josh hadn't even noticed how hot she looked, and after she'd gone to so much trouble to impress him.
"Here are my work and cell numbers," he said, handing her a piece of paper and walking to the door. "Call if you have any problems. And feel free to discipline Jake if he needs it. You hear that, Jake? I want you to behave."
Jake was seated on the couch, watching TV. He turned and waved goodbye to his dad. "Don't worry, Dad. I'll be good."
Joyce, who didn't know a thing about small boys but a lot about men in general, knew that the surest way to a man's heart was through his stomach. So, during an animated movie about a horse, she had plied Jake with popcorn, soda, candy bars and pizza. For her trouble, he had thrown up over her expensive leather pants and prized Oriental carpet.
"I'm sorry, Joyce," Jake said, after the fact, crying and rubbing his stomach. "I didn't mean to. It just came out."
"It's okay, sweetie," Joyce said, surprised to find she meant it. "It's my fault for giving you so much junk to eat. And you're probably tired. Let's get you to bed; you can sleep in mine till your dad comes to get you, okay?"
Relief filled eyes that were the same color as Josh's as Joyce led Jake to the bed. "You won't tell Dad, will you? He might get mad if he knew I barfed on you."
Joyce smiled down at the small child, and a funny thing happened — her heart began to swell with love. "I won't tell, sweetie. I promise."
"Would you kiss me good-night? My mom always kissed me good-night."
"Of course." She kissed his cheek softly. "Do you miss your mom?"
"Sometimes. But my mom and dad used to fight a lot, so it's a lot quieter around the house now. And my mom writes me letters and sends me stuff."
"That's good, sweetie. I'll see you tomorrow night, okay?"
"I'm glad you're my new baby-sitter, Joyce," Jake said, and a large lump formed in her throat.
"Me, too, sweetie. I'm really glad, too."
By the time Josh arrived back at Joyce's apartment at twelve-thirty the following morning, Joyce was looking a little bit like Medusa on speed. Her hair was curling every which way, her mascara had run while she slept on the sofa and she'd traded her soiled leather pants for a ratty old pair of plaid flannel pajamas.
"Sorry to wake you," Josh said, closing the front door quietly behind him. "I was trying to be quiet."
Joyce had given Josh a key to her apartment, in case she were to fall asleep and not hear him knock. "I was just dozing on the couch." She tried to rearrange her hair into some semblance of order, but it was a lost cause. Her seduction efforts had proven to be a dismal failure.
Josh smiled engagingly. "Don't bother. I like it messed. It's sexy. And I like those pajamas, too. Very appealing, I must say."
Or not!
Joyce warmed instantly. "Sleeping in leather isn't all it's cracked up to be. I went for comfort instead." She yawned, and his smile grew apologetic.
"I'm sorry. I'm being rude. I'll get Jake and be on my way."
"I'm not going to work early today, so if you'd like some coffee…"
He smiled. "Sure. I'd love some. I don't like to take time away from Jake during the day, so I write when I get home at night or when he's napping, which is rare. The coffee helps keep me awake. By the way, how did it go tonight? Did Jake give you any problems?"
Glancing down, Joyce moved to stand on the ugly carpet stain where Jake had thrown up, so Josh wouldn't get suspicious. "Not at all. Jake's a great kid. We got along just fine. We share an interest in animated movies. I have a large DVD collection, mostly Disney, so we're a good match."
At her admission, his right brow lifted. "You're a very interesting woman, Joyce, always doing or saying something totally different than I expect. I'm intrigued."
"Really? Well, if you can be intrigued with me wearing this getup and my hair standing on end, you're either nuts or a masochist." Or horny as hell. Which wouldn't be a bad thing necessarily!
He moved toward her, circling her hair around his finger. "Even your hair is intriguing. It can't really decide which way to go, can it?"
Joyce had been called many things: pushy, opinionated, domineering. But no one had ever said she was intriguing. And she rather liked that. It made her feel mysterious and sexy, even dressed in flannel with the smell of vomit surrounding her. "It's an inherited Rialto trait. Everyone in my family has curly hair, even my mother's dog. Sparkles is an Airedale." She handed him a cup of steaming coffee and followed him to the sofa.
"Good coffee," he said, after taking a sip. His gaze then caught the stained carpet. "I don't recall seeing that stain when I was here earlier. If Jake was the cause of it, I'll be happy to pay for —"
"It was me. I was clumsy and dropped a pizza when I was bringing it in for Jake and I to share. It's no big deal. I can have it cleaned."
"Pizza. That's my son's favorite food. You must be best friends by now."
"We are," Joyce said, smiling. "I really like Jake. He's a great kid. I enjoyed taking care of him tonight. We had a good time." Aside from the barfing.
"As soon as I can find a sitter, I'd like to take you out to dinner, Joyce."
Heart beating fast, Joyce blurted, "My mom's available. She's had lots of experience and would love to help you out. She told me as much when I explained your predicament to her."
"Like mother like daughter, huh?"
Smiling rather sickly, Joyce nodded, trying not to gag at the comparison.
Melissa Rialto breezed into the lingerie department at Neiman's that same afternoon, much to Joyce's displeasure. Her sister was the bane of her existence and had been since she'd popped out of their mother's womb when Joyce was only two and a half and too young to shout, "Put her back! She's evil! Put her back!"
"What's this I hear about you getting married, Joyce? Did you finally convince that loser Eddie to make an honest woman out of you?"
Missy was a Clairol blonde, petite, thin and very attractive. Joyce was tall, a bit overweight and had never been described as a raving beauty. But she had a much quicker mind and tongue than her sister. "I decided that since you and Eddie were so much alike, you both being dumber than rocks and having the IQ of turnips, that I'd leave him for you, Melissa."
Eyes narrowing, Missy said, "Just because I didn't go to college doesn't mean I'm stupid. And I know you dumped poor Eddie for some guy who works here at the store, because he told me."
"How could he? Eddie doesn't —"
"Ha! Now who's the stupid one?"
Heaving a sigh, Joyce asked, "Does your visit have a point, such as buying lingerie, or did you just come down here to annoy me? If that's the case, you can leave. I've got tons of work to do. Valerie called in sick this morning, and now I'm shorthanded."
"It just so happens that I'm in need of some sexy lingerie. I've met a new man, and I'm sure it won't be long until — Well, you know."
"Oh, get off it, Missy. You'd screw anything in pants that wasn't nailed down. If I recall correctly, your yearbook stated that you could "make a dead man come." What a wonderful recommendation. Was that from one of your teachers?"
"You're just jealous because the men you attract are such losers. And whoever heard of finding a husband in a department store? Pathetic."
Trying hard not to be goaded into revealing things about Josh that she wasn't ready to tell, Joyce merely smiled. Missy took great delight in trying to bust up Joyce's relationships. She'd done so in the past, and Joyce had no doubt she'd do it again, especially if she saw how handsome Josh was.
Melissa was competitive by nature, and Joyce was her archrival, for reasons known only to Melissa. Joyce wondered if her sister had somehow overheard all those prayers she'd made to God about rendering Melissa ugly and mute. Of course, Joyce had only been six at the time and couldn't be held accountable.
"This new guy must be worse than Eddie if you're not bragging about him, Joyce, which is just too bad. My new guy is smart and rich. Did I mention that he's a writer?"
All color drained from Joyce's face, making Missy grin. "I knew that would get you. Ted writes the sports column for the Philadelphia Inquirer. He's shopping a book around, too, and is hoping to get it published."
Thank you, God!
Joyce recovered quickly. "That's nice. So, do you want to buy that nightgown you've been caressing for the past twenty minutes or not?"
"It's a size six, so I hope it won't be too big for me," her sister replied.
"Well, if it is you can always put some padding in the bodice, make Ted think you've actually got boobs, instead of those teeny cherries you call breasts. Or better yet, you could get implants."
"You're hateful! I refuse to shop here and be insulted." Melissa tossed the gown aside and turned on her heel.
"Hey," Joyce called after her sister, wearing a big grin. "The insults are free. I wasn't going to charge you for them."
Josh wasn't certain what had made him ask Joyce for a date that Saturday evening. He really didn't know her all that well, despite the fact she was taking care of his son temporarily. But there was something about her, some unique quality that captivated him, and it was more than just a physical attraction, though there was plenty of that, too.
"How did you know this was my favorite restaurant?" Joyce asked, setting aside her menu. "I love this place. The food here is fantastic." She took a deep breath. "Ah. There's nothing better than the smell of garlic."
"To be honest, I didn't. But I've heard Bookbinders is famous for their lobster, so I thought we should give it a try."
Smiling widely, she said, "I love lobster. See, we are simpatico. I felt that from the first moment we met."
Arching a brow, he asked, "Was that the moment I was holding a gun on you?"
Joyce's cheeks flooded pink. "Well, not that particular moment, but later. We do seem to have a lot in common. I feel like we've known each other forever, and we've only just met."
Josh had the same feeling, but he wasn't sure he wanted to admit that just yet, so he changed the subject to a more comfortable one. "It was nice of your mom to take care of Jake tonight. They seemed to hit it off right from the start."
"Mom's great with kids. In fact, she mentioned just this morning that she might be interested in a part-time baby-sitting job. You might want to talk to her about it."
Thrilled by the news, Josh nodded. "I will. I haven't had any success with the applicants I've interviewed so far. They've either been too young, too old, too unreliable or too weird."
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" she asked. "You've never mentioned your family. I was just wondering…"
"One brother, but he lives on the West Coast, as do my parents, so I don't see them very often." Which was how he liked it. They were duty visits, so Jake could get to know his grandparents, but Josh wasn't fond of traveling three thousand miles so he could listen to all the crap about how successful Ben was with his software company and how Josh was wasting his life writing books.
"I gripe about my mom and dad a lot, but I'd be lost if they didn't live near me. We're a pretty close family, for the most part."
"Any brothers or sisters?"
At first Joyce was tempted to say no, but then admitted, "I have a sister, but I don't consider Melissa part of the family. I think she comes from an alien galaxy far, far away. I'm talking major miles from the real world."
Josh laughed. "Hey, maybe we could fix her up with my brother. Ben suffers from the same affliction."
Deciding that she would never meet anyone as perfect for her as Josh seemed to be, Joyce went for broke. "I like you, Josh. When are you going to invite me over to see your etchings?"
Surprised and pleased by her boldness, he replied, "You're not trying to seduce me, are you, Miss Rialto?"
Thoughtful for a moment, Joyce smiled. "You know what? I think I am, Mr. Faber. Are you up for it?"
Ohmigod! I can't believe I just said that.
Joyce stared at the shocked expression on Josh's face and cringed inwardly at the thought that he probably thought she was wanton. Wanting, maybe, and definitely horny.
Josh's smile was oozing with sexuality and promise. "I think something can be arranged. My place or yours?"
Was she really going to have sex with a man she hardly knew? Joyce considered that question for approximately two seconds, tossed down her napkin and said, "Yours. My mom's at mine, remember?"
The ride to Josh's apartment was made in silence. Josh was probably worried that she'd change her mind if he spoke; Joyce knew definitely that she was worried about the same thing.
But all worries fled as coats were shed, shoes kicked off and Josh's lips covered Joyce's in a heart-stopping kiss that made her breathless. She'd imagined many times what kissing him would be like — and she had a damn good imagination — but nothing could have prepared her for the reality. It was better than a gallon of chocolate ice cream covered with hot fudge sauce, whipped cream and nuts, and that was Joyce's absolute favorite dessert.
Until now.
When he finally released her, Josh said, "I've been wanting to do that since the first moment I laid eyes on you in that skimpy black teddy."
"Ohmigod! You kiss soooo good. That was too fantastic for words."
Josh laughed. "Do you always say just what you're thinking?"
She nodded and began to unbutton his shirt. "I tend to be a very direct person. Usually that gets me into trouble. But when I know what I want, I go after it. And I want you, Josh Faber. All of you."
Taking Joyce's hand, Josh led her into the bedroom, eager to comply. There was a huge king-size bed covered in a flowered bedspread that didn't look as though it belonged to Josh, a nightstand with a lamp, a desk, piled high with books and papers and a computer, whose screen was still lit. "Is this where you work?" she asked, pointing to the desk and accompanying paraphernalia.
With effortless ease, he picked her up and deposited her on the bed. "Yes, but this is where I do my best work."
Joyce was not what one would consider a small woman. She was almost five foot nine and weighed over one hundred and forty pounds — well over — but she wasn't inclined to say how much. For Josh to have picked her up as if she were light as a feather impressed the hell out of her. So much so that she decided then and there that this was definitely the man she was going to marry. If sex was as fantastic as she expected it would be, she just might go ahead and propose.
They were naked in a matter of moments, and Josh's thorough perusal of her body made every inch of her heated flesh quiver. "Ohmi…" she said, gasping as she took in the sight of his impressive…build.
Her reaction concerned him. "What is it? Is something wrong?"
"No. I was just being impressed again," she admitted, and he laughed, reaching for a condom.
"Sweetheart, you are good for my ego. But, if I may modestly say, you ain't seen nothing yet."
As Josh took Joyce to the next level of the stratosphere she had to anchor herself to the bed by gripping the sheets. "Josh! Oh, Josh! I — I —"
And then she screamed — a piercing, ear-splitting shriek that woke some primal part of Joyce that even she didn't know existed. Fortunately, Josh anticipated it, and he quickly covered her mouth with his, so the neighbors wouldn't call the police.
After they'd reached their climaxes, and Josh eased off of her, Joyce could only stare at the ceiling and wonder if she was still alive. She felt as though Josh had screwed the living daylights out of her! And she'd loved every delicious minute of it.
"Are you okay?" he asked, caressing her cheek.
She nodded, feeling better than okay. With Eddie, she had lied about her orgasms. But with Josh, there'd been no need. It had been WOW! "How about you?"
"Fantastic! You're incredible."
Without thinking, Joyce sucked in her breath and then blurted, "Let's get married!"
Bolting upright, Josh stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "What?"
"I said, let's get married. I love you, we're great in bed together and I fill your need for a full-time baby-sitter for Jake. I'd make the perfect wife for you."
"Joyce, I'm not interested in getting married right now. It's too soon after my divorce. I like you, but this is only our first date. We don't really know each other that well."
Propping herself up against the pillows, Josh's argument didn't dissuade Joyce. "We have the rest of our lives to get better acquainted. And I'm an open book: favorite ice cream flavor — chocolate; movie — When Harry Met Sally; restaurant — you already know that one — Bookbinders; musical group — Foo Fighters. Now you tell me yours."
Josh shook his head, trying to explain, "I rushed into my marriage with Leslie, but I really knew nothing about her, like her aversion to having kids. I made a huge mistake. I can't let that happen again."
"But we're soul mates. Isn't it obvious? You can deny it and make logical explanations, but in the end it's a fait accompli. Soul mates are destined for each other. That's why things didn't work out with your first wife. You were fated for me."
"I think maybe we should get dressed. I'll drive you home. This is getting too weird, even for me, and I write fiction."
"What's weird about it? Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight? It happens all the time."
"But I don't love you, Joyce. How can I? I hardly know you."
"You just think you don't love me, because you were raised by the standard rules of engagement: meet someone, date forever, get engaged, live together, then get married. That's old-school thinking, Josh." Joyce pointed to her chest, adding, "In here is where it happens —" then her head "— not here. It's because you're not Italian that you don't know these things. But in time you'll come to realize that I'm the perfect woman for you."
Josh glanced around his bedroom. "Am I on Candid Camera? Is that what this is all about?"
"Yes, and we've just shot a porn segment for sweeps week. No, Josh, this is for real. I'm for real. You and I are going to get married, have more children and live happily ever after."
"Obviously you are crazy."
Joyce grinned. "Yep. Crazy in love with you, Josh Faber."
"Okay, I'm here. What's the big emergency this time?" Francie seated herself at the corner table, where Joyce was waiting for her with a cup of coffee, which she shoved in front of her. It was Sunday morning and Starbucks was crowded with sleepy-eyed customers in search of a morning jolt of caffeine. Joyce was on her second cup, after a sleepless night.
"I've made a mess of everything. Josh hates me."
"But I thought you and Josh had a date last evening."
"We did. And things were going great. Then we had sex, and —"
"Hold on a minute!" Wide-eyed, Francie asked, "You had sex with Josh on your first date?"
Joyce's cheeks filled with color, and she nodded. "It sort of just happened. And then I sort of asked him to marry me and, well —"
Unable to hold back her astonishment, Francie's first mouthful of coffee sprayed across the table, nearly hitting Joyce and attracting the attention of a few nosy customers. "This is a private discussion, so buzz off," Joyce told them in no uncertain terms, then wiped up the mess with a handful of napkins.
"You asked Josh to marry you? Are you insane, Joyce? You hardly know the man. You've done some crazy things over the years, but this is —"
"I love him! I have no doubt whatsoever about that."
Sighing deeply, Francie shook her head. "I find that hard to believe. First you announce that you're getting married. But, of course, you have no groom in mind. Then you find one at Neiman's, as if shopping for a husband in a department store is a normal, everyday occurrence. And now you've convinced yourself that you're in love. Don't you see, Joyce, that you've willed it to happen? It's all part of your plan."
Joyce's eyes filled with tears, an unusual phenomenon that happened only at weddings and funerals, and never over a man. "I'm not crazy, and I'm not making this up. I'm in love with Josh Faber. I want to marry him and be a mother to Jake. And now that will never happen because Josh hates me."
Reaching across the table, Francie clasped Joyce's hand. "He told you that? I'm sorry, Joyce."
"No, not exactly. But he didn't speak to me all the way back to my place, and he didn't mention calling again. The only conversation he had was with my mother. He's hired her to baby-sit Jake in the evenings, so now I won't even have that opportunity to see him again." And Josh's silence had spoken volumes, in Joyce's opinion.
"You told me Josh was divorced, so he's probably leery of getting involved with anyone. Maybe he just needs more time to get to know you."
"Do you really think so, Francie? I know this all started out as a stupid quest on my part to get married, but I love him so much, and now that we've had sex, I'm not sure I can live without him."
"Damn! He must be good. You have pretty high standards when it comes to sex. Well, except for Eddie, but you were desperate for a date when you agreed to go out with him."
"Eddie and orgasms did not go hand in hand, unfortunately. I never mentioned it because I was embarrassed. And, well, you disliked him so much, it made me want to prove you wrong, I guess."
"We've been best friends for years, Joyce. I've always been up front with you, and your honesty is the one thing I cherish most about you. I don't know how all this will turn out with Josh, but I hope well, for your sake. I want you to be happy. But no matter what happens, be honest. That shines through, and maybe Josh will come to value that quality as much as I do."
Joyce grinned. "Thanks! But I think maybe I was a wee bit too honest already. Josh is obviously not used to a woman of my caliber."
Francie rolled her eyes. "Of that, I have no doubt."
Josh hadn't spoken to Joyce for almost a week, since the night of their first, and last, date, and he missed her. Why was still a mystery. Her unexpected proposal had scared the crap out of him, at the time. But upon reflection, he'd found it rather sweet and endearing.
It had taken big cajones on Joyce's part to propose and declare her love for him. And he had thrown it right back in her face. She probably hated him now, and that saddened Josh, for he really did like her.
But did he love her?
It was too soon, wasn't it? Too soon to form those kinds of feelings for someone he didn't know very well. But if so, then why did he think about her all the time? Why did her face keep popping into his mind, her laughter ring in his ears? And why did he have the insatiable urge to see her again, make love with her again?
Olivia, now baby-sitting Jake, had asked Josh several times why he and Joyce weren't seeing each other anymore. But, of course, he couldn't tell her. He really didn't know himself, other than the fact that she'd frightened him by coming on so strong. But then, that was the part of Joyce that he found so appealing — she was refreshingly up-front.
Joyce was honest, maybe to a fault, but he liked that about her. Most people he knew were superficial and phony. He admired her ability to speak her mind and go after what she wanted. And apparently, she wanted him.
It was hard not to feel flattered by that, especially after the way his ex-wife had treated him, like a loser with little or no potential. Like his parents, Leslie hadn't supported his dream of writing novels and eventually that had led to their split. She'd wanted the big house, expensive car and the life that someone of wealth could provide, and now she had it.
Pushing aside unpleasant thoughts of his ex-wife, Josh entered his apartment to find it empty, and knew immediately that something was wrong. Olivia met him at the door every evening to fill him in on Jake. He called out, but there was no answer.
Hurrying to his son's room, he found it empty, as well. Reaching for his cell phone to dial the police, he spotted a note on Jake's bed. Scanning it quickly, he discovered it was from Olivia, saying that her husband, Tony, had fallen and she'd had to leave to take him to the hospital emergency room. Olivia had dropped Jake off at Joyce's apartment on her way home.
Josh breathed a sigh of relief, but only momentarily. To pick Jake up he had to see Joyce, and he wasn't sure what he was going to say to her. She, no doubt, thought he was a jerk. He'd had sex with her — fabulous sex, he might add — and then had more or less dumped her. Not exactly heroic or manly behavior on his part, so he couldn't really blame her for hating him.
"Joyce Rialto, you are proving to be one exasperating woman!" he exclaimed aloud.
Exasperating! But also exciting! Enchanting! he couldn't help thinking.
And the hell of it was, Josh thought he might be falling in love with her.
With the key he hadn't yet returned, Josh entered Joyce's apartment. The sight that greeted him nearly took his breath away.
Joyce and Jake were curled up on the sofa, sound asleep. Joyce had her arms wrapped around his son, and they were snuggled together like two peas in a pod. The contented look on Joyce's face as she held Jake close filled his heart with joy.
In that moment, as he watched them sleep, Josh had a moment of pure unadulterated envy that he wasn't the one Joyce was holding to her breast so tenderly. And also in that moment, he knew he loved her.
Moving forward, he approached the couch and Joyce awoke immediately, separating herself from Jake carefully, so as not to waken him.
"Hi! I didn't hear you come in," she whispered. "I must have been more tired than I thought."
"Thanks for taking over for Olivia tonight. I really appreciate it. How's your dad? I hope it's nothing serious."
She shook her head. "Sprained ankle. He'll be fine."
"That's good. I hope Jake wasn't too much trouble. He does have a knack for tiring a body out."
"He wasn't any trouble at all. I really enjoy being with him. Would you like coffee? I made some fresh, just in case."
"Sure. I'd like that just fine."
Joyce had been nervous all evening about seeing Josh again. She didn't know what to expect, and she didn't know quite what to say to him after her rather unorthodox proposal. Biting the bullet, she blurted, "Look, I'm sorry about the other night. I came on a bit strong and well…I'd like for us to be friends."
"Don't apologize. I was an ass for behaving like I did. I'm sorry I haven't called. I have been busy working, but that's no excuse."
Eyes wide, her heart flip-flopped in her chest. "You are?" Joyce refused to get her hopes up. He probably thought she was pathetic.
Josh reached for her hand. "I want to be friends, too, Joyce, and maybe I want something more. I've done a lot of thinking, mostly about you. I can't get you out of my mind."
"I seem to have that effect on people," Joyce said, grinning. "I'm like a fungus. Eventually, I grow on you."
Laughing, he squeezed her hand. "I'd like to see you again. Maybe take up where we left off and see what develops."
"Are you talking about having sex? Because…well, as much as I enjoyed it, I don't think that would be a very good idea. I got a bit carried away that evening. I hope you don't think I'm easy or anything."
"Joyce, if there's one thing I know about you, it's that you're not easy in the least. You are probably one of the most difficult women I've ever encountered. But I also find you to be a challenge. And you've added a spark to my life that was very much needed. My life was becoming rather black and white — same old routine, day in and day out — but you came along and changed that. Now my life is a vibrant red — much the same red color as your hair. And I've discovered that I like that. I like it very much."
Digesting everything Josh had just said, Joyce still couldn't quite believe that he was actually finding positive things to say about their relationship. Needing clarification, she asked, "Then you don't hate me for what I said?"
"Hate you? Hell, no, I don't hate you. I feel quite the opposite, in fact."
Joyce and Josh had been dating for about three weeks when Josh's son decided to ask the question that had been uppermost on his mind.
"Hey, Joyce! Are you and my dad gonna get married? I think he likes you."
Joyce, Jake and Olivia had been watching old movies on TV, while waiting for Josh to get home from work. The older woman muted the sound, leaning forward to hear Joyce's answer and earning an exasperated look from her daughter. "I'm not really sure, sweetie. Your dad hasn't asked me." Which totally confused Joyce. She thought by now she'd have an engagement ring and, apparently, so did Olivia, who stared at the ring finger of her hand then shook her head in disappointment every time she saw her.
"Would you like for Joyce to be your mom, Jake?" Olivia asked the child.
He nodded enthusiastically. "Yep. I love Joyce and I want her to be my mom. I already told my dad that."
Joyce's eyes widened. "What did he say?"
"That he was thinking about it. My dad takes a long time to think about things. It took him forever to buy me a bike. I sure hope he doesn't take that long to ask you, Joyce. Olivia says you're not getting any younger."
"Mom! You shouldn't be talking to Jake about such things."
"Why not? He wants you to marry his father. So what's the problem?"
"The problem is that Josh hasn't asked me, and if you push too hard he isn't likely to." After her bold proposal, Joyce had decided to take Francie's advice and give Josh some breathing room, let him get to know her better. She knew he loved her; he'd told her so. But she also knew that he was still fearful of making a commitment.
Damn that stupid ex-wife of his! The woman must have been a fool.
While Olivia put Jake to bed, Joyce busied herself in the kitchen by washing the dishes. Upon her mom's return, they sat down at the table to share the cheesecake that Joyce had brought from the deli. "This is good cheesecake," Olivia said. "Not as good as mine, though."
"No one makes cheesecake as good as you, Ma. You know that."
The compliment pleased the older woman. "I told your sister about you and Josh. She's very happy for you."
Joyce nearly choked on the creamy bite she'd just shoved into her mouth. "You're kidding! Why'd you do that? You know Missy hates me. She'll try and spoil things for me. Just you wait."
Her mother sighed. "I don't know why you two girls can't get along. You should be best friends. You're close in age and have lots in common. And yet you fight."
"Melissa is horrible." And a spoiled brat! "That's why we don't get along."
"Like you, your sister's in love, so she's become much more mellow. I think maybe she's starting to grow up, see things a bit differently."
"Ha! I doubt that. She was her usual nasty self a few weeks ago when she came into the store."
"Melissa told me. And she's sorry and wants to make amends."
"Are we talking about the same Melissa? What am I missing here?"
"Love can do strange things to people. Look at you."
"Me?" Joyce's eyes widened. "I'm no different than I was."
"You're softer, more loving and caring. Look how much time you spend with me now. We never used to do this before you met Josh. You've changed, Joyce. And for the good."
Joyce had been waiting on Mrs. Fiorello for over thirty-five minutes and she was presently in a very bad mood. The older, overweight woman wanted an undergarment (read, girdle) that would work miracles on her figure. It should probably be pointed out that Mrs. F had more humps than a camel. And, unfortunately, nothing short of an old-fashioned corset would work.
"This is the best girdle we have, Mrs. Fiorello. It's top quality, and I'll give you a ten percent discount." I'll give you the damn thing for free, if you will just go away and leave me alone.
Joyce didn't get many headaches, but her temples were pounding now. Of course, that might have had more to do with the call she'd received from Josh this morning aski
Joyce had dressed carefully for her meeting with Josh. If she was going down in flames, she was going down in style. In fact, she was wearing her brightest red dress and sexiest stilettos. Might as well make Josh know what he'd be missing, she decided.
Josh had taken the night off from work and arranged for Jake to stay overnight with Joyce's parents, which Joyce thought was rather cheeky. It was one thing to get dumped, but quite another to involve the parents of the dumpee.
"You look lovely." Josh handed Joyce a glass of champagne. "I didn't think redheads could carry off wearing red, but you've disproved that notion."
"Thank you," she said, trying to keep her hand steady. As vocal as she sometimes was, Joyce hated ugly confrontations, so she just wanted to get this one over with.
"I thought we'd have dinner in tonight."
"Sort of feeding the fatted calf before slaying it, huh?"
Josh looked confused but smiled anyway. "I've been cooking all day," he said, and her eyebrows rose. "Don't look so surprised. There are a lot of great male chefs. And I enjoy cooking. We're having roast lamb with all the trimmings. And for dessert, I've made a turtle cheesecake."
"Do you always go to these lengths before dumping your girlfriends? Sort of a ploy to let them down easy?"
Josh, sipping his drink, nearly choked. "What the hell are you talking about, Joyce? Who said anything about dumping you?"
"But you've been so distant this week. And you didn't want to have sex. I mean, I'm not that repulsive. And you've been distracted. I just thought —"
"You think too much. Now drink your champagne, while I put on some music." Johnny Mathis's "Chances Are" soon filled the room, and Joyce grew more confused than ever. "Care to dance?" Without waiting for a reply, Josh took Joyce in his arms and led her around the living room.
Josh danced wonderfully, and being held in his arms was like coming home. "Are you going to explain what's going on?"
"Not yet," he said, kissing her passionately, nibbling her lips and licking the corners of her mouth, until Joyce's nipples stood at attention and her knees grew weak.
When he released her, he sniffed the air. "My roast is done."
Yeah, and my goose is cooked!
Throughout dinner, which was delicious, they chatted nonstop about nothing in particular, which made Joyce even more nervous. Something weird was going on, but she wasn't sure what. She scarfed down her cheesecake, hoping it would speed things up, but Josh was taking his time about revealing whatever it was he had up his sleeve.
"You know, Josh, if this has all been about seducing me into bed, it wasn't necessary," Joyce finally said. "I am more than willing, eager even, to make love with you. I hope you know that. Why we've waited is still a mystery."
Josh reached for her hand — her left hand — and placed a large diamond ring on her finger. "This isn't about sex, Joyce. This is about wanting to marry you. Will you marry me?"
Joyce was stunned speechless as she stared at the ring on her left hand. "But — but I thought you were breaking up with me." She looked up at him. "I don't understand."
"I love you, Joyce Rialto, preconceived notions and all. Will you do me the honor of being my wife, and the mother to my child?"
Joyce burst out in tears and her nose started running, which she started to wipe with the back of her hand, until she realized she might get snot on the diamond.
"YES! Yes. Yes. And yes."
ng to see her tonight. He had something important to tell her, which sounded quite ominous. She was pretty certain he was going to dump her. He'd acted distant and distracted this past week, so he'd no doubt had a change of mind about their relationship. He hadn't wanted to have sex with her again, since that first time, and she'd offered on several occasions, despite her best intentions not to. Self-denial was not one of Joyce's strong suits.
"Okay, I'll take this. But I want the ten percent, like you promised."
Smiling sweetly, Joyce wondered what else could go wrong today and found out a mere thirty minutes later when Melissa strolled into the department, grinning like a hyena and flashing an engagement ring in her face.
"Ted proposed. Isn't my ring beautiful? Oh, I'm so happy, Joyce. I'm getting married, and I'm going to make the most beautiful bride."
If you say so yourself, Joyce was tempted to add.
Joyce hugged her beaming sister, despite the fact she was seething with jealousy. She wasn't likely to get an engagement ring, a husband or anything but a swift kick in the pants from the man she loved. But she was truly happy for Missy. "Congratulations! I'm very happy for you."
Melissa grew serious. "Are you? I know we've had our differences in the past, Joyce, but I'm hoping we can put them aside. I'd like you to be my maid of honor."
"Of course I'll stand up for you." She'd done so a few times for Francie and had plenty of practice. Always a bridesmaid, never a — "I'd be honored."
"Will you help me pick out my trousseau? You have the best taste when it comes to nightgowns and underwear."
Joyce nodded. "You pick out whatever you want and I'll buy them and use my store discount. How does that sound?"
Wrapping her arms around Joyce, Missy kissed her, which really threw Joyce for a loop. She and her sister did not engage in such behavior. Hell, they barely spoke most of the time. Maybe their mom was right; maybe Missy had changed. "I've got to go and meet Ted. We're talking to the priest this afternoon. But I wanted you to be the first to know."
Joyce waved goodbye and felt like crying. She should be getting married first. It was the way of things, like parents dying before their children. But things didn't always work out the way you wanted them to. And maybe she was just destined to be the bridesmaid and never the bride. A truly depressing thought at best.
"I love you, Mrs. Faber. Have I told you that today?"
"Not nearly enough, Mr. Faber," Joyce replied, sipping champagne while reclining against the bed pillows in their luxurious suite at the Ritz-Carlton. "But I'm glad you do, because it's how I feel about you, too. I want to make you happy, Josh, and I want to be a good mother and role model for Jake." She leaned over and kissed him tenderly on the lips. "I love you so much."
"I love you, too. And Jake's crazy about you. He told me if I didn't marry you he was going to run away from home and live with Olivia."
"He didn't!" She laughed. "My mom probably put him up to saying that."
"You made a beautiful bride today, the most beautiful I've ever seen."
She sighed deeply, remembering how lovely their wedding had been and how it had gone off without a hitch. "I loved everything about being a bride. I used to dismiss all the hoopla when Francie would talk about her weddings, but now that I've had one of my own, I know what she was talking about. It was wonderful. Do you think we can do it again sometime, say in about fifty years?"
He chuckled. "If you like, as long as you promise we can do the wedding night over again, too."
"It's just terrible being a sex object," she said, shaking her head, and he laughed again. "You know, I'm really proud of myself. I set out to find a man at Neiman's and get married, and I did. I finally made a goal, stuck with it and fulfilled it, with a little help from you, of course."
"I'm not sure whether to be insulted or flattered at being your goal," Josh said, trailing his hand up her calf and thigh. "But I sure am glad you decided to get married and chose me. Even my mother's happy, and she's not usually too free with her compliments. My dad, too."
"Your parents were lovely to me. I think they'll come around, now that you're married again and they see you're not destitute. That new book contract you just got will go a long way to impress them. It impressed me."
"You're not marrying me for my money, right?" Josh teased, kissing Joyce softly on the lips and making her moan with passion.
"No. I'm marrying you for your hard body, firm thighs and that huge —"
Laughing, Josh pushed Joyce onto her back, and then covered her body with his own, kissing her senseless again before saying, "Mrs. Faber, what a shocking thing to say."
"If you think that's shocking, wait till you see me without this nightgown on. I've lost ten pounds, and I look quite fabulous, if I say so myself." She lifted the gown over her head, proudly displaying her newly improved figure, thrilled by the love, appreciation and lust she saw in her husband's eyes.
"You'll always be perfect to me, Joyce, no matter how much you weigh."
Tears filled her eyes. "I'm trying to remember that you lie for a living. But that is terribly sweet and it makes me very horny."
"Me, too. Let's get this wedding night under way."
"Will you show me your big gun again?"
"Oh, sweetheart, will I ever."
Joyce smiled softly and caressed Josh's cheek. "I was hoping you'd say that. And don't shoot any blanks because I've been thinking that Jake might need a little brother or sister very soon. "
Eyes wide, Josh smiled happily. "Sometimes you surprise me, sweetheart."
"You know, sometimes I surprise myself, too."
The End