Authors: Ann Cristy
"Don't worry, precious. I
had Sibley go down to Acme, open the store, and get you more team sweats."
Chazz leaned up on one elbow, his index finger tracing imaginary circles around
the tip of one breast. He watched the path his finger made as though mesmerized
by the movement. "Of course there is plenty of underwear for you to try on
in the bedroom connecting to this one. The room is stocked with clothes in your
size," Chazz informed her, his voice vague, his eyes still fixed on her breast.
"What did you say?"
Teel whispered.
"There are clothes in the
connecting room in your size and—"
"That's what I thought
you said," she gritted, lifting his arm from her body and shoving him
backward.
Surprised, Chazz lay prone on
his pillow and stared up at her as she jumped from the bed and turned to face
him, her arms akimbo.
"And you thought I would
just jump at the chance to wear clothes that belong to your—your women, did
you? Well, let me tell you something, buster—"
"Teel, calm down. Come
back to bed, angel."
"Don't you
call me angel, you—you disgusting Don Juan." She took a deep breath.
"And let me tell— What are you laughing at?" Her chin rose higher as
her temper reached the boiling point. "Why are you looking like
that?"
"Like what?" Chazz asked
casually, sitting up and throwing the covers to one side before rising. He
yawned and stretched.
"Must you flaunt
yourself?" Teel yelped at him, wanting to look away from his beautiful
body but unable to do so.
"No more than you, my
angel." He chuckled, coming round the bed toward her.
"What?" Teel put up
one arm as though to ward him off and looked at the long expanse of her
uncovered limb. Her eyes dropped down the front of her. "Oh, no," she
groaned, closing her eyes, then opening them at once and sprinting for the
bathroom. "You bastard!" she shouted just before slamming the door
shut. Even through the thick partition she could hear his laughter.
"I'll get you some fresh
underwear, darling," he called out.
"Drop
dead," she shouted, turning the gold-handled faucets in the shower on the
full blast to drown out anything else he might say.
She stared at the
floor-to-ceiling array of shampoos, washing aids, and soaps of every
description.
Even after shampooing her hair
twice and scrubbing her body until it glowed pink, she stayed under the steam
of water as if to wash the previous evening from her mind. Lord, that man
should be declared a disaster area by an act of Congress!
Teel would have
taken longer drying her hair and lotioning her body, but she happened to look
at her watch as she snapped it to her wrist. Eight o'clock! The workers were
supposed to gather and be ready to go at nine o'clock sharp. And she had to
call the hotel and talk to Nancy first. What she would tell her friend she had
no idea, but she must talk to her.
Teel peeked around
the door of the bathroom. Chazz wasn't there, but a note was pinned to a small
pile of clothes on the vanity.
Teel, these
clothes belong only to you. No one else has ever worn them. Love, Chazz.
"Bull."
Teel fingered the silken, flesh-colored undies and was tempted to toss them in
the trash can, but an aversion to waste instilled in her by her Scottish
grandmother and an inordinate love of fine lingerie stayed her hand. "Does
he think I was born yesterday?" Teel quizzed her mirror image as she
fastened the bra, then sat down in the dresser chair to put on the athletic
anklets she would wear with the all-leather running shoes, which she had always
wanted and never been able to afford. The color of the sweats was right for the
team, but the texture was finer than the outfits the team wore. The sweats fit
like a glove and were as comfortable as anything Teel had ever worn.
She looked at her dress draped
over a chair and shrugged. She would write it off as a part reckoning for her
night of foolishness, What a jackass she was! She gritted her teeth and rubbed
her aching temples.
When she opened
the bedroom door, Chazz was standing there, wearing a dark blue suit that
seemed to have the finest gold thread running through it, bringing out the
color of his eyes. A gold chain lay across his vest and, as Teel looked, he
pulled a watch from the pocket and studied it. He looked every inch the
successful businessman.
"Very good, my love. We
have time for breakfast. I wish I could join you at the Garden today, but duty
calls." He put his hand on her arm and escorted her down the stairs and
through a series of doors to the morning room where they had lunched the day
before.
Mrs. Pritchett smiled at Teel
and recited what she would make for breakfast.
Teel didn't hear
her. Embarrassment thrummed in her ears, her headache grew worse, and her eyes
stung. Chazz must have ordered for her, because Mrs. Pritchett nodded and left.
"Headache, darling?"
Teel glared at him. "Of
course I have a headache," she snapped. "I always have a headache
when you're around. You make me ill—literally."
"I don't suppose it could
be Arthur's Specials that did that?"
"Are you implying that I
have a hangover?" Teel lifted her chin defiantly.
"Yes." Chazz smiled
at her, then leaned over and topped her cup with fresh coffee from the pot.
"You're a boor."
Sunlight shone through the sparkling clean windows, making Teel's eyes hurt.
"I dote on your archaic
language, love." Chazz looked up as Mrs. Pritchett entered from the
kitchen balancing a heavy tray, which she set down on the sideboard. When she'd
served them, Teel stared down at her scrambled eggs in horror.
"I hope you
like the centerpiece, ma'am," Mrs. Pritchett said. "Mr. Herman says
you'll be doing most of the flower arranging from now on." She smiled, but
Teel could hardly focus on her face.
"What?
Flowers? Oh yes, I like flowers." Teel heaved a sigh of relief when the
housekeeper nodded and disappeared into the kitchen again. "I can't eat
breakfast," Teel added weakly.
"Here, have some toast.
I'll eat your eggs." Chazz pulled her plate toward him and set a plate of
toast triangles in front of her.
"Thank
you," Teel said faintly. She was sure she wouldn't be able to eat the
toast either, but when she looked again, the plate was empty and she felt a
little better. The aches and pains remained, but the queasiness was gone.
"More coffee?" Chazz
offered, lifting the silver pot.
"No, thank you. I think
I'd like more of that tomato juice, please." Teel ignored his smile as he
refilled her glass. Just then something that Mrs. Pritchett had said penetrated
Teel's foggy head. "What did Mrs. Pritchett mean about the flowers? Didn't
she say something about me arranging them? What did she mean?"
"I told her we'd be
getting married soon and that you had definite tastes on everything,"
Chazz explained, rising from his chair and coming around to help her up.
"Time to go if you're not going to be late."
"All right," Teel
replied. She was out of her chair when his words hit her. "You told her
what?"
she cried, turning
to face him. Chazz took hold of her arm to steady her. She wrenched free.
"What did you tell her? Did I hear right? Are you out of your mind? How
dare you say such a thing?" Her voice rose with each question, becoming more
and more shrill.
Mrs. Pritchett
poked her head through the open door. "Is something wrong with the food,
sir?"
"Not at all. Tell Mrs.
Pritchett how good you thought it was, Teel darling."
"Good. Good, Mrs.
Pritchett." Teel spoke through teeth clenched so tightly she was sure she
would have lockjaw. The older woman disappeared, and Teel turned again to face
Chazz. He was gone. "Where are you? You—you Svengali." She stormed
out of the morning room and down the hall to the foyer, where Chazz stood with
her sweat jacket over his arm.
"Ready, darling?"
"Don't you 'ready darling' me." Teel slipped one hand into the jacket
sleeve that Chazz held out for her. "How dare you tell Mrs. Pritchett that
we're getting married, you liar."
"We
are
getting married." He
took hold of her arm and piloted her out the door. "And please don't call
me a liar. I don't lie unless I have to, which isn't often. So don't call me a
liar."
Teel faced him in the elevator
as it took them to the underground garage. "I would never marry you. I'm
not masochistic enough to tie myself to a womanizer."
"That's all
behind me now. You can keep me happy in bed, just as you did this
morning." His eyes roved from her head to her toes, sending a hot flush to
her cheeks. "You have a lovely body, my angel, and I loved making love to
it and to you."
"Stop that." Teel
gasped, feeling her sinuses fill.
"Never. I'll be making
love to you when I'm ninety." Chazz looked smug.
"Me—or a reasonable
facsimile thereof," Teel snapped, fighting the insidious languor that
seeped into her limbs. "There's no way I would spend my life with a
dedicated ogler like you."
"Ogler?"
Chazz looked pained as he gestured for her to precede him from the elevator.
"Yes—and
worse." She thought of him chasing other women down a street, a white
beard flowing over one shoulder. "No," she moaned, reaching for a
tissue as her nose began to run. "I'm not a masochist. My life would be
one long series of colds and flu, headaches and backaches. No, I refuse to live
like that. It would be an ordeal."
"It would be
beautiful." He drove out of the underground garage into bright sunshine. New York looked magnificent on this beautiful spring morning.
But the sun hurt Teel's eyes,
so she closed them and leaned back against the cushioned headrest. "No, no.
Don't talk like that. I'll never marry you."
"You
will
marry me," Chazz
promised.
"You're
crazy." She made plans to escape to Kenya. He would never find her on the.
Serengeti Plain. No, Teel changed her mind, with her luck a lion would eat
her— a lion with golden eyes.
"I'd like to have
children. Would you?"
His question brought her up
short. "No," she said out loud.
Of
course.
I
would
love your children,
she moaned inside. What a
beautiful boy they would have—and maybe a little girl. No, she told herself.
There she'd be, taking care of their beautiful children, who would be asking
where Daddy was and she would have to tell them that he was out that evening
with a busty blonde, or a curvaceous redhead, or a lissome brunette—or all
three! "Never. I'll never be your wife," she murmured.
"Do you want a large
wedding? I'd like a small one."
"Drop dead."
"A small
wedding it is then, as long as I'm doing the planning." Chazz eased the
car to the curb at a side entrance to the Garden and leaned across to open Teel's
door. "I'll say good-bye now, love. I have a meeting in ten minutes. See
you tonight."
"Go suck an
egg." Teel poked her tongue out at him, then started to get out of the
car. Suddenly a muscular arm whipped her body backward and she was looking up
into Chazz's face.
"I need to kiss my fiancée
good-bye."
"Turn
blue," Teel retorted, watching his face come closer until it blotted out
the light. She groaned against his open mouth.
When he released her, her body
seemed to slide forward out of the car. She almost landed in the gutter, she
was so weak with longing, but Chazz's chuckle behind her stiffened her spine.
She walked away without looking back.
"Wish the kids good luck
for me, darling," he called; then she heard the Ferrari shoot away from
the curb.
The day was chaotic, and
Teel's headache didn't help. More than once her posting of the medal winners
was wrong and, though it wasn't the end of the world to make a mistake, Teel
felt Nancy and the others staring at her. She sensed the questions they were dying
to ask and knew they could hardly contain their curiosity.
Nancy
joined Teel for a lunch break. They sat on folding chairs in
the crowded snack area, waving to friends between bites and speaking to
acquaintances, officials, and parents. The dry-as-dust sandwich Teel was trying
to eat seemed to match the way she felt inside.
"I don't think they can
get one more person in here," Nancy said, grimacing as she shifted to a
more comfortable position. She was about to take a sip from her milk carton
when her eyes widened. "Good God, what's that? Did someone win the first
race at Aqueduct?"
Teel turned to see what had
astounded her friend and gasped at the huge spray of white roses coming toward
them. It was impossible to see around the mountain of flowers, but Teel assumed
someone was carrying them. A weak, grabbing sensation assailed her stomach.
A capped head poked around the
spray. "One o' you Miss Barrett?" the red-faced carrier inquired.
"Teel Barrett?"