Nothing More Beautiful (12 page)

Then an impulse arose, an urge to catch a
glimpse of Vince one last time before he left the store. I tossed
one of the female sexuality books on the info desk, figuring they
were pretty equal, and rushed for the checkout counter. Like a
creepy stalker, I hid behind a bookshelf near the purchase line,
watching Vince buy the book. Terrance, Vince’s friend, scanned the
area while standing at his side.

It was at that moment that I realized: I
really wanted him. I wanted Vince like I’d never wanted any other
man. It wasn’t some mental connection that drew me in. No, it was
an urge that originated between my legs. For the first time in my
life, it was my crotch doing the thinking.
But I thought only
men thought like that?
I bit my lip and clenched my fists,
beating down the notion to approach him and ask him if he wanted to
get coffee.

Within a short breath, the transaction was
complete and Vince had left the bookstore, leaving me with only the
memory of his image. My normal rationality slowly returned. A
shiver struck me and I felt creeped out by my own actions. What was
I doing hiding behind a bookshelf spying on someone? This wasn’t
me. Despite that fact, I couldn’t deny that I’d enjoyed it in all
its brevity.

The adrenaline withdrew and I breathed
normally again. I glanced down at the book in my hands and decided
to go buy it before I changed my mind. Although the store was
fairly busy, the purchase line was rather dead, and I ended up with
the same cashier as Vince, with no one between us.

I laid the book down on the counter and
smiled at the middle-aged woman. “Hi,” I said.

“Good evening,” she returned cordially. “Can
you believe who was just in here?” she said, a little
star-struck.

I shook my head, intrigued. “No, who?” So
drawn to Vince, I hadn’t even looked at anyone beyond him and his
friend, absorbed in the moment.

She pointed to a magazine pinned up behind
the counter. “Vince Forte, the billionaire.”

I gazed up at the edition of
Wired
with Vince on the cover, smiling wide with a strange box in his
hands. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe I’d been talking
to a billionaire. A multibillionaire.

But most of all, I couldn’t believe I’d just
stalked one of the richest people in the United States—and, wanted
more
.

I
gaped at the magazine
cover, stunned.

“Are you okay?” the cashier asked, after a
perplexing moment of silence. I couldn’t take my eyes off the
cover.

“I—yes, yes, I’m fine,” I answered.

“It’ll be $13.95,” she said.

“What?”

“The book, the book is $13.95,” she said,
raising her voice.

I looked at the counter and saw
Secrets
of the Sexually Satisfied Woman
and suddenly remembered what I
was doing at the counter in the first place. “Right, right. Sorry.”
I opened my clutch and withdrew my card, but something else snuck
out with it. I had forgotten about my stowed panties from the night
before, and they got caught between my fingers as I slid out my
card. My eyes bulged in terror. I glanced up at the woman and she
regarded me with disgust. “Sorry. So sorry.”

Pocketing the card and panties, I handed
over a twenty, certain that the card touching the panties probably
had mortified the woman. She counted out the change and gave me a
faint, hesitant smile. “Have a nice night,” she said as I sprinted
for the door.

Once in Eddie, I sped home, reviewing the
bizarre events at the bookstore. I had nearly lost control standing
before Vince.
Vince Forte, the billionaire, the same guy who
said he’d stop by the bakery for a croissant and walked me to my
car
. How had I not put the name to the face before? I had heard
it over and over on the news in recent months.
Vince Forte
had walked me to my car!
My mind was running wild, so many
different thoughts at once, it was making my head hurt.
We had
almost kissed on several occasions!
But he didn’t, and I
didn’t, and it never happened.
So close!

When I got home, I jumped into bed and
buried my face in my pillow. I finally realized how much, and in
what capacity, I wanted Vince, and then to find out that he’s
exceptionally, insanely rich stunned me through and through, I
couldn’t do anything but lie there.

“Maci?” I heard Danielle’s voice. She
sounded close, so I turned and spotted her in the doorway. “You all
right?”

I nodded. “I think so.”

“What happened?”

I opened my laptop on my bed and navigated
to the Wikipedia entry on Vince Forte. “This.” I spun the screen
around so she could see.

I watched her eyes as they shifted left,
right, then left again, reading his brief biography. “Holy
shit—that’s—that’s the guy I hit!” she gasped. “The guy you keep
running into! The guy whose arms you fell into! He’s
the
Vince Forte . . . how—?”

“How did we not know?” I finished for her.
“Well, who the hell thinks they’re going to crash into a
billionaire? Who thinks one is randomly going to walk her
home?”

“How did you find out?”

We moved to the kitchen, grabbed some ice
cream, and I went through the details, second by second, blow by
blow. I even showed her my
private
book that wasn’t so
private anymore. “Well, I’m glad that you’re at least taking some
of my advice.” She grinned, reading the title. “This is just too
bizarre. I hit a fucking billionaire’s car.”

“And you wanted me to ask him out!” I
exploded, the excitement getting to me. “Could you imagine if I
had?”

“But he said he’d stop by the bakery?”

“He was just being polite,” I said.

“What if he wasn’t?” she tossed out. “What
if he’s into you? You could be dating a billionaire, Maci, a
billionaire! I can’t believe I hit a fucking billionaire’s car.”
She repeated that statement throughout the night. “I mean, if we
examine all the ‘accidental’ encounters, it seems like maybe he’s
stalking you. Have you ever thought of that?”

“That’s creepy, Danielle, and he’s
definitely not stalking me. It’s just coincidence that we keep
running into each other—nothing more.”

A knock at the door made my heart jump.
“Hello?” Ashley said, coming inside.

“In here,” Danielle shouted back.

Ashley walked in and tossed her purse on the
kitchen table. “Hi, Maci.” She smiled at me, then turned to
Danielle. “We need to talk.”

“It doesn’t matter how many layers,”
Danielle said before they got into it. “I’m cool with whatever. You
need to see this, though.” My laptop sat in front of me on the
table, and she turned it around, pointing enthusiastically.

Ashley frowned. “You’re just going to give
in? That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Danielle conceded.
“Relationships are give and take, and I’m giving this time.”

Ashley folded her arms, unconvinced. “You
never give in so easily. Why now?”

“Look.” Danielle pointed again at the laptop
screen.

Ashley leaned over and read the bio. “Yeah?
I’ve heard of him before. He’s a big shot in the energy world,
so?”

“That’s the guy I hit!” Danielle exclaimed.
“The guy who’s been chasing after Maci.”

“He’s not chasing after me,” I chimed
in.

Ashley still wore her incredulity, her face
mocking us. “That’s the guy? But—”

“But he’s a billionaire?” Danielle filled in
for her fiancée. “Yeah, it’s unreal, but it’s the truth. That’s
him. That’s the guy.”

I was nodding as Ashley turned to me. All
three of us stayed up late that night, evaluating all of my
encounters with Vince Forte, from the car accident to the Powell’s
female-sexuality-book blunder. They were entirely convinced that he
was into me, even attracted to the degree that he couldn’t resist
faking our chance meetings, which of course he designed and carried
out flawlessly.

At one a.m. I said goodnight, knowing I had
the next day off and realizing that my subconscious must have
planned it this way long ago in its recognition that I’d need a
break. Enervated from the night before and my lack of sleep—plus
the toll of the day and the lengthy symposium centered on Vince—I
could barely keep my eyes open when my head hit the pillow. I
immediately conked out.

I WOKE UP TO
Danielle and
Ashley eating breakfast. They’d made up as if nothing had happened,
each confessing that it wasn’t actually the cake layers they were
mad about, but the stress of the impending wedding and all the
details required to pull it off.

“You want to hit the gym this morning?”
Danielle asked as I dumped out the old coffee from Saturday.
“Ashley’s coming.”

Well rested, my body was loose and ready to
get back on the elliptical. “Yeah, after a few cups.”

“Okay, but we have to go fast. We both have
to be at work by nine.”

I nodded. I had taken a quick shower last
night after dinner, but I still felt the grime from David’s
apartment and decided to take another before the gym, even though
I’d probably take one after, too.

“You know Vince owns Ripped City Fitness,” I
said, as Danielle drove, on our way to the gym.

“Was that in his bio? I didn’t read it all,”
Danielle admitted.

“It’s amazing that he held you in his arms,”
Ashley said before I could reply. “Maci’s white knight.”

“You mean Mr. Right,” Danielle joked.

“Oh, that’s right,” Ashley laughed. “Maybe
he’ll be there today for round two.”

“I’m glad you guys are together,” I said,
staring out the back window. “You two make the perfect couple.”

Danielle grabbed Ashley’s hand and brought
it to her lips for a soft kiss. “Don’t be jealous now.” She pulled
into the underground parking garage, scanned her pass, and the
security arm shot up and let us through. The spaces were slim, but
it was mostly empty, so it didn’t matter. “Third floor, Maci?”

“If we go to the third, how will she bump
into Mr. Right again?” Ashley asked with a playful grin. “I’m fine
with a few men staring at me if it means true love for you.” Her
sarcastic tone scratched at my morning-sensitive nerves.

“Ha ha,” I said. “Maybe you should quit the
business world and break into the comedy scene.”

She patted my shoulder. “I mean it, I’ll
take the sacrifice.”

“So, second floor?” Danielle asked, walking
up the stairs.

“You guys will never let up if I say no.” I
rolled up the towel I brought and whipped them both.

“True enough,” Ashley agreed. “We might
continue with the material just for the hell of it, though.”

Deserted, the second floor was ours for
about ten minutes before people started shuffling in. They were
mostly men on the treadmills and free-weight benches. Even in the
back, I could feel the eyes on us, the floor-to-ceiling mirror
eliminating the obstacle of facing us to get a view. One man gawked
the entire 30 minutes he worked out, but for some odd reason,
Danielle and Ashley really didn’t mind, maybe because there was no
interest the other way, or maybe because they were just more
comfortable with their bodies. They laughed and made jokes about
him and all the rest, throwing in fake, sexual taunts that were
impossible to hear at such a distance with all the noise of the
cardio machines.

“I can’t believe it,” Danielle said
abruptly. “Look at her.” She pointed to a woman hopping onto a
stationary bike. “She’s only wearing a sports bra.”

I spotted the black and red racerback bra
with an oval of bare skin toward her midback.

“Lots of people wear them as tops,” Ashley
remarked.

“No they don’t,” Danielle snapped. “Only
dumb sluts do.”

“Well, frankly, I’d like to see more women
as comfortable with their bodies.” Ashley raised her eyebrows in a
mischievous manner. “I mean, good for her.”

Danielle shook her head. “You’re only saying
that because she’s hot.” I could see her temper flaring. She wasn’t
the super-jealous type, but she didn’t like it when Ashley pointed
out other good-looking women, especially since her fiancée had such
a wandering eye.

“Ladies, please,” I broke in. “We’re in
public. Let’s try and keep it civil.” Just as my words parted my
mouth, Vince came strolling in with Terrance at his side, heading
for an open bench.

My heart leapt at the sight.

“Ooh, Maci, look who’s here,” Ashley said
without delay. “Calling Mr. Right to Maci’s vag.”

“Ashley!” I growled. “Shut up. God! What the
hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh, calm down,” Danielle defended. “Loosen
up, will ya?”

Ashley was dying of laughter, an evil glint
in her eye. “Oops, sorry. I know you don’t like that word. How
about ‘pussy,’ is that better?”

My face turned so red, I could see the
contrast in the mirror clear across the room.

“Ashley,” Danielle scolded in a phony tone.
“You know we’re not supposed to talk about pee-pees and vajayjays
in front of Maci.”

“You two are so juvenile sometimes,” I said,
with a crisp, hard voice. I slowed the machine, my thoughts turning
to flight. Before I knew Vince was a billionaire, it was
nerve-racking enough, now it was ten times worse.

“Maci, we’re just joking,” Danielle said,
looking over at me. “Stop. Ah, come on, don’t leave.” She put out
her arm as I got off. She jumped down and blocked my exit. “Sorry.
We’re sorry. We’ll stop.”

Ashley was still laughing, trying hard to
suppress them as they broke through.

“Stay—we still have twenty minutes left,”
Danielle begged.

She didn’t realize that it was her own
taunting, as much as it was Vince’s presence, that made me want to
leave. I could rarely say no to those big, brown, puppy-dog eyes of
hers. “Fine,” I said, “but cut it out. I don’t want to hear any
more about Mr. Right or Mr. Billionaire, all right?”