Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me Read online



  “What?” Bonnie said, while Min gaped at Liza, and Diana watched them all, fascinated.

  Liza got up from the table, picked up Min’s phone, and brought it over to her. “Call him. Tell him you were wrong, he was right, and you’ll do anything to make it up to him.”

  Min swallowed. “You want me to grovel?”

  “Yes,” Liza said. “I’m not going to watch you lose him because of your dumb pride. Call and offer him anything he wants if he’ll take you back.”

  Min looked at Bonnie, who nodded.

  Min looked at the phone. If she called Cal, she’d at least get to hear his voice. How pathetic was that? “Pathetic,” she said out loud.

  “Only if you let this go,” Liza said. “For once in your life, do the irrational, reckless thing. Call him.”

  Min sat there, frozen in fear. Then she took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

  Cal was rehearsing his “How about a late dinner tomorrow?” speech when the phone rang, but when he picked it up and heard Min’s tentative “Hi?” he forgot it all.

  “Hi,” he said and sat down hard on the couch.

  “Don’t say anything,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. “Let me get this out. I was wrong not to tell you I knew about the bet. I was wrong not to trust you. Everything you said at the wedding was right. It’s my fault. I want you back. I want us back. I love you and I need you—”

  Relief made Cal dizzy.

  “And I want to see you now,” she went on, and Cal thought, Christ, yes, and then the other shoe dropped. “Now?” he said and looked at the clock. Twenty-six hours before the bet was up. Just tell her yes, he thought, she doesn’t care about the bet anymore, she said so, and then he remembered how she’d sounded when she’d said it at the wedding.

  “It’s been driving me crazy saying no to you all these weeks,” Min was babbling, “but if you’re not ready for that, that’s okay, I just want to see you. I haven’t seen you for two days, and I miss you so much. Can I come over right now? Just to talk? Or, you know, we could do other things. I can think of several. If you want more than talk. More would be good with me. Or not. Whatever.”

  More would be great with me, Cal thought and shook his head to clear it.

  “I’m on my knees here,” Min said, her voice straining to be chipper. “And not in a good way. Can I come over?”

  “No,” Cal said. “I’ll come to you. Later.” He swallowed. “Tomorrow. Nine-thirty. Tomorrow night, nine-thirty.”

  “Not now?” Min said, her voice cracking.

  “No,” Cal said. “No. Nine-thirty. Tomorrow. I’ll bring dinner.”

  “I can cook now,” Min said. “I can make dinner. I can make it now.”

  “I’ll bring dinner tomorrow,” Cal said, thinking, Christ, I’ve been stupid.

  “Fine, whatever.” Min waited for a moment and then added, “I’m kind of hungry now, though.”

  “Tomorrow, nine-thirty, your place,” Cal said, gritting his teeth.

  “Okay,” Min said. “All right. Tomorrow night it is.” He was about to say good-bye when she said, “Are you seeing Cynthie?”

  “Christ, no,” Cal said, casting a guilty look at the door.

  “Because you left with her. And David said you were. Or I wouldn’t have asked. I mean, it’s none of my business.”

  “It’s your business,” Cal said. “And David is an idiot. Stop talking to him.”

  “I’m trying,” Min said.

  Cal felt all his tension morph into a much more convenient anger. “What does that mean, you’re trying?”

  “He calls. For some reason, this whole mess has convinced him that he and I should get married.”

  “He’s wrong,” Cal snapped.

  “I know that,” Min said, her voice not placating anymore.

  “You’ve got caller ID. Stop picking up the phone.”

  “Look, I’m not completely stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid at all,” Cal said, “your past month’s performance notwithstanding.” He winced. Stupid. Stupid.

  “Hey, you made the bet.”

  “I did not—”

  “The second one. The take-me-to-dinner one. I screwed up but I’m not going to pay for it for the rest of my life. You’re culpable here, too. You made that dinner bet.”

  There you go, Cal thought. Shanna was right, damn it.

  “Not that I’m assuming you’re going to be around for the rest of my life,” Min said, tentative again.

  “Tomorrow night,” Cal said and hung up, before either one of them said something even dumber, pretty sure he’d done the right thing. Christ, I’m in a Doris Day movie, he thought, and went to tell Shanna that he’d done what she said.

  “I love you,” Min said forlornly to the dial tone.

  “What happened?” Liza said. “What was all that stuff about Cynthie and David? I told you to grovel, not fight.”

  Min put the phone down and picked up Elvis for comfort. “He doesn’t want to see me until tomorrow.”

  “That’s strange,” Liza said. “If I’d promised Tony sex like that, he’d have been here before I hung up the phone.”

  “I didn’t actually promise him sex,” Min said.

  “Oh, please,” Liza and Bonnie said together, and even Diana nodded and said, “Yes, you did.”

  “Could I keep some shred of dignity here?” Min said. “He just said no to sex, the bastard.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Bonnie said, patting her hand. “He just said, not until tomorrow.” She frowned. “I don’t get him.”

  “Tell us what he said,” Liza said.

  “He said he’d come over here tomorrow at nine-thirty, and he’d bring dinner. Like I want to eat.” Min sniffed. “I hate this. This is dumb.”

  “What’s so special about nine-thirty tomorrow night?” Liza said. “What’s tomorrow? It’s just Wednesday.”

  “It’s Roger’s and my anniversary,” Bonnie said. “He’s ordering champagne, and then he’s going to pick me up at the bar the way he did four weeks ago, and then he’s going to propose.”

  “Cute,” Min said.

  “That’s it,” Liza said, straightening. “Tomorrow night it’s four weeks since David made the bet.”

  “But Cal didn’t take the bet,” Min snapped. “I’m tired of this conversation. He didn’t—”

  “But everybody knows about it,” Liza said. “So if you give in before the time’s up, he wins. And he loves to win. He always wins. He lives to win.”

  “Not seeing your point,” Min said.

  “He’s throwing the bet,” Liza said.

  “Why?” Min stood up and Elvis leaped for the floor. “Why in the name of God—”

  “It’s sort of gallant,” Bonnie said.

  “If you ask me, it’s a control thing, too,” Liza said, disdain in her voice. “He gets to call the shots. What happened at nine-thirty?”

  Min shrugged, confused. “We got to the restaurant a little before ten, so we were probably leaving the bar about then.”

  Liza nodded. “He’s giving himself some leeway.” She frowned. “Although more than he needs if he’s bringing dinner. Then there’ll be foreplay. It’s going to take some time to get you—”

  “He can have me when he walks in the door,” Min said.

  Diana picked up her bread again. “I’ll go to the movies tomorrow night. You’re going to need this place to yourself, and I’m not going back home. Mom’s still mad I moved in here. She’s convinced I’m eating carbs.” She bit into the bread, and Min laughed in spite of herself and then began to consider the situation.

  So what if Cal lost the bet? Ten bucks. He could afford it. “No,” she said. “I’m not going to be the bet he lost, that’s not how I want us to start. He’s going to win that bet tomorrow night, and he’s going to be very happy doing it.”

  “Why tomorrow?” Liza said.

  “Because I’m going to need a really hot nightgown,” Min said. “And a lot more courage than