Call Me! (11 page)

But I want to.

It’s just that…I’m married.

Sophie’s my best friend and confidante. And though she loves me and clearly aches for us to be together, she would never rush me, never push me, never want me to do anything I wasn’t ready to do. So we live together two days a week, and we’ve fashioned a celibate mini-life together, within the framework of our real lives.

She’s twenty-nine, I’m twenty-four. Except for Ben, Sophie’s the only person on earth who knows what happened to me nine years ago. I’m incredibly fortunate these two wonderful, caring people have found me.

But Ben found me first.

I pay the bill despite Sophie’s insistence on taking care of the wine.

“I still don’t feel right about you spending all this money,” she says.

“Deal with it.”

I hand her a birthday card with a long, girly note about what she’s meant to me this year. She reads it and starts crying. Watching her cry makes me cry. We see each other crying and that makes us both laugh. Then I hand her the gift. She opens it, sees the bracelet, and starts crying again.

“I’ll treasure this,” she says, putting it on.

I smile, knowing it’s true.

In a very quiet voice she says, “I love you, Dani. You have no idea how much.”

“I love you too, Sofe,” I say, using her nickname.

That night we do what we always do before going to bed. Put on the most outrageous pajama tops and bottoms we can find, and hang out in her den and talk and laugh for hours.

My house in Cincinnati has one upstairs bedroom, Sophie’s house in Nashville has two. Both have master bedrooms on the first floor. But on Mondays and Tuesdays, Sophie sleeps in the vacant upstairs bedroom to be closer to me.

I love that about her.

When we’re all talked out we walk up the stairs together like we always do, and hug each other goodnight. Over the months we’ve been together the hugs have gotten longer and more intimate, though nothing sexual has taken place.

Yet.

But during these moments when we’re in each other’s arms, and our bodies are touching, and I close my eyes and feel her heartbeat, I get flushed, off-balance, and almost completely out of control.

Almost.

Could I ever be truly satisfied and fulfilled being in a long-term relationship with a woman?

I honestly don’t know.

Could Sophie?

She doesn’t know either, but she thinks so.

“You’re too pretty to be with a man,” she once said. “We need you on our team.”

“
Your
team?” I laughed. “You’re barely on the team yourself!”

So yes, we’ve talked about it, but the bottom line is we’re both newbies. Sophie’s had seven sexual experiences in her life and only two of them were women.

“Every night we hug vertically,” she says. “Just once I’d like us to hug horizontally.”

I laugh. “You always say that.”

“And yet you never take me up on it.”

“I don’t trust myself.”

She pulls back and grins. “You’ve never said
that
before!”

“Guess you’re wearing me down.”

“My evil plan is working?”

“Seems to be.”

She pretends to do a little cheer. Then says, “Yay!”

She kisses my cheek.

I kiss hers and say, “Happy birthday, Sofe.”

“At the risk of sounding like Joe Fagin,” she says, “This is the best birthday ever!”

We laugh.

“I’ll leave my door open tonight,” she says. “In case you change your mind.”

I laugh. “You always say that, too.”

TUESDAY EVENING

BEN AND I are standing in the bar at Johnny Prime,
Cincinnati’s legendary
steakhouse, awaiting the entrance of his overachieving college roommate, Roy Burroughs. Ben has warned me Roy is not only charming, but a force of nature, and I need to realize he’s a complete and total player.

“He’s going to be all over you,” he warns.

“I’d find that terribly rude.”

“Doesn’t matter. He thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Thinks he can get anyone he wants.”

“What are you saying?”

Ben laughs. “He’s brutally handsome. Or was, at least. In any case, I’m counting on you not to fall in love with him.”

“Fat chance.”

“Good. Because that would sort of destroy the whole concept of me having something the great Roy Burroughs could never get.”

“Tell me again about that.”

“When Roy sees us together his face is going to drop! The last thought in his head when he leaves tonight will be me holding you. It’ll be like I’m the one standing in the end zone instead of him, spiking the ball after scoring the winning touchdown. He’ll see you, and I won’t have to say a word. He’ll know I finally beat him at something. Seriously, Dani, I can’t thank you enough.”

I give him a look.

“What?” he says.

“I hope you can come up with a better way to express the sentiment. Because right now you’re making me feel like a dirty old football.”

Ben winks. “Coming from a guy, that’s a hell of a compliment. Except for the old part.”

“And the dirty part.”

He winks again. “That’s up for debate.”

Ben’s in the best mood tonight! I hope it goes the way he wants, but honestly, how could it? I mean, he’s got such high expectations. Do things ever turn out great when you’re trying to show someone else up?

“Ben?”

“Yes?”

“I know you think I’m beautiful,” I say, “But what if Roy shows up with someone who’s
truly
gorgeous? Someone who makes me look like dog meat?”

“First of all, there’s no such woman, because you’re spectacular. Second, it’s not just your looks, it’s the whole package. Your personality, your charm, your intelligence. You’re sweet, kind, and classy. What I’m saying, looks can be bought. The rest is you. I’ve given up sex, warmth, and intimacy…and two nights every week just to be able to live with you!”

“Thanks.”

“
Thanks
?”

“I know you meant that as a compliment, but the last part came across a little bitter. Not that I don’t deserve it.”

He thinks about what he said. “I get that. I’m sorry.”

“You have every right to feel that way. I just hate that I’ve done this to you.”

“Done what?” a voice says from behind us.

We turn, and it’s not Roy Burroughs’s jaw that drops.

It’s mine.

ROY BURROUGHS IS in a wheelchair.

And he’s not nearly as good-looking as Ben led me to believe.

Of course, it’s been a long time since Ben’s seen Roy. What’s it been, sixteen years? Something like that. A lot can happen to a person’s looks in sixteen years. You hear it all the time from those who go to high school class reunions. Some look the same, but most don’t.

But that’s not what makes my jaw drop when I meet Roy Burroughs.

What makes my jaw drop is I know Roy’s a fake. He’s pretending to be confined to a wheelchair. I know this as certainly as I know my real name is Mindy Renee Whittaker.

That’s right, my current name, Dani Ripper, is as fake as Roy’s wheelchair.

People use phony names for different reasons. Some do it to deceive people. Others, like me, change their names to create a new life. Wait, maybe these are the same reasons, since they both involve deception.

I won’t argue the point.

But I didn’t change my name in order to hurt people, or take advantage of them. I did it to protect myself. I went to court to change my name because I got sick of being stalked by the media. Sick of seeing my filthy, bruised and bloody fifteen-year-old face on TV every time the next young, pretty girl got abducted. Sick of being Mindy Renee Whittaker, “the little girl who got away.” Sick of being the poster child for the precious few who manage to escape their captors. Sick of being contacted by grief-stricken parents clinging to their last ounce of hope.

I couldn’t give them hope, because I didn’t think any other fifteen-year-old girls would do what I was willing to do in order to escape.

I know Roy’s faking the wheelchair because I’ve actually met him once before. On that occasion he had full use of his legs. That was four days ago, and he was going by the name Joe Fagin. As he and I look at each other now, only one of us is shocked.

Me.

When he gives me a shit-eating grin it becomes crystal clear what really happened last week with Carter Teague. I don’t know if she and Roy are married or engaged, or if she’s some hooker or decoy Roy hired to play the part. What I
do
know is Roy Burroughs found a way to beat my husband yet again.

Because Roy Burroughs has seen Ben’s wife completely naked. Not only that, he kissed me, groped me, and felt me up. And now he gets to play a game that ridicules my sweet, innocent husband. Roy’s going to allow Ben to believe he’s finally won.

If I’m lucky.

If I’m not lucky, Roy’s going to play Ben for a fool all through dinner, and humiliate him with the truth for dessert.

BEN’S FACE IS white. He can’t get over the fact Roy’s in a wheelchair. I see him struggling with what to say about it, how to approach the subject. Roy’s grinning at me, sharing the joke. I glare at him until Ben looks at me, at which point I become all smiles.