Spicing Up Trouble: a romantic comedy (19 page)

"You read the by-laws?"

"A cursory glance."

Mr. Cobb sat in a chair and shuffled through the contents of Ben's proposal.

"This is Alexia's work," Mr. Cobb said as he read my narrative for the layout of the story rooms.

"Yes," Ben said.

"Did you like it immediately, or did she persuade you?"

"Careful, old man."

"Under your skin already. The first time I met Helen, I fell hard. Her parents liked me immediately. They had dollar signs in their eyes and literally shoved her at me."

He leaned back in the chair, produced two cigars and a lighter. Ben took one and his father lit both.

"After the wedding, I forbid them to contact Helen again. I had them under surveillance. Her mother died of cancer at forty-five. Her father dove into the bottle and died in some fleabag hotel two years later. Your urge to crush all attackers is hereditary. You are protecting Alexia's honor. Good for both of you."

"I've never heard this story before," Ben said.

"There's a lot you don't know about your mother. She felt disgraced by being thrown out of her parents' house. Nowadays, no one over thirteen is a virgin. It's what everyone expects. Then a girl could be ruined for life by even a rumor. My father questioned her honor. I blew up and threatened him within an inch of his life. If he didn't go out of his way to make Helen feel welcome, I would give him as many illegitimate grandchildren as possible. He met her, fell in love, and here you are the only legitimate heir." Mr. Cobb let a plume of smoke float up to the ceiling.

"How did you know the museum idea belonged to Alexia?" Ben asked.

"We haven't agreed since you decided you liked ketchup on hot dogs."

"At Comiskey Park when I was seven."

"I'm glad you remember all of our fights with fondness. We have never resorted to fists. Helen put her foot down. We could scream and swear, but don't touch. I attacked your girl. You saw red and reacted just like I would."

He stood and gathered up Ben's materials.

"I want to review these papers thoroughly. I'll get back to you in a couple of days."

"How about dinner?" Ben asked.

"With you?"

"And Alexia. She loves ketchup."

I smiled thinking of our first meal.

"My dear Alexia, try to forget the punch."

I'd pretend it didn't happen if it would help heal their relationship.

"I really am sorry," Ben said.
"No you're not," Mr. Cobb said.

"No I'm not. It felt good."

"Speak for yourself. I'll make reservations at the Emerson Room about six." Mr. Cobb opened the door. "Alexia, wear something revealing. I'd like a peek at what my son is getting."

"Even the slightest suggestive remark and I'll deck you again," Ben said as his scowl came back.

"Good God, you're smitten," he said as he left.

After collecting our papers, Ben opened the door and found the three lawyers in the hallway.

"Boys, the proposals are still on the table. Thanks for the room and you're welcome for the floorshow. I trust you won't mention it to anyone. You know how my father abhors publicity, and I like it even less."

Ben pinched Diller's cheek and left.

"I need a nap, a drink, and chocolate," I said.

"A mild taste of the future," Ben said as we stepped into the elevator. "How about a quickie and a donut?"

"What kind of donut?" I asked.

"Whatever one you want. We got him. He's interested, which means he's figuring his angle and percentage of the take."

"I thought my family had strife and intrigue," I said.

Mark waited outside by the car. Ben pointed to the back passenger door. Mark nodded his head up and down.

"Your father's lip is bleeding. Did you hit him?" Mark asked.

"What did he say?" Ben asked.

"He fell."

"Sounds plausible. Take him wherever he wants to go."

"You two deserve each other. I'll take Alexia and save her from both of you," Mark said.

"I wouldn't even kid about it if I were you," Ben said.

"You're too good for him, Alexia," Mark said as he rounded the car.

"So I've been told," I said.

Ben hit his father, learned more about his mother, and won round one. Round two would be at dinner. Questions and comments about the museum would be our conversation. I'd order a salad to go and leave the raw meat for them.

"Do you have something to wear tonight for dinner?" Ben asked as we strolled down the sidewalk.

"You mean a little something for the official first meeting?"

"Yes."

"I could drop by Eleanor's and see if I can borrow a dress. She might have ideas of what to wear to drive an older man crazy." Where could I buy some quick cleavage?

"Not too crazy, just agreeable. I'll do the shopping. Eleanor's suggestions might be too risqué." We arrived at the parking garage and slid in the car.

"You are going to buy a dress I have to wear to dinner with your father?"

"Do you trust me?"

"No, but I need clothes, and I don't have any money. Keep in mind I catch cold easily. If your father discovers he hates me, will things change between us?"

"If possible, I'll love you more. But he'll love you because he's me." He started the car and drove home.

And he said he loved me.

We arrived at his building, and we idled at the curb. He had errands to run, and I had emotions to corral. After a quick kiss, I got out of the car, and went upstairs to shower.

He's me
ran over and over in my mind. What was the root of their problem? Too much in common? Agreement on issues. Consensus on many topics. Why fight? Both were smart, handsome, important men. People followed their lead and listened when they spoke. But when both were in the same room, which one took the lead? Who was in charge? Who was bowed to? A mistake in the arena could be deadly. The other men today were scared too. Poor Helen. Now I had been selected to sit between them. I resolved to be silent, regardless of provocation.

Love was a word I didn't take lightly. Did he mean for now or forever? I loved him ever since he drew my face and ignored my thunder thighs. We entered a new relationship phase. Our work and personal lives intertwined. Was the amount of time spent together a good or bad sign for the future?

I'll take the present because, right now, it feels good.

After surveying my skimpy wardrobe, I decided to be conservative: high neck, long sleeves, dull color. I chose a navy suit with a simple white blouse. Great for funerals and third marriages. I started to dress. Panties and bra on, I picked up the skirt. I heard the front door open, water ran in the bathroom, then Ben appeared, holding a garment bag.

"No way," he said.

He broached the doorway wearing pants, but no shirt. The black curly hair along the muscles of his chest and stomach mesmerized me. He moved gracefully like a sleek cat. Ready to pounce, to take, to feed. He shook out a dress from the bag and tossed it to me. The midnight blue captured the color of my eyes. Raw silk with the thinnest straps for the shoulders and cut low in the back.

"A perfect V. I immediately thought of you," he said.

I hoped he wouldn't mention the V connotation to his father.

"It's beautiful. I won't be able to wear much underneath it."

"That's the point."

He unhooked my bra, unpinned my hair, and helped me put the dress on over my head.

"I need to wear a jacket or something. I feel topless."

He pointed to the mirror. I scooted over to assess myself. The dress outlined even my slightest curve. My hair glowed on my practically bare shoulders. Damn I looked good. He slipped his hand inside for a quick caress.

"We're running late," I said.

"My father will be speechless at the sight of you. Alexia, you are the first woman I have introduced to him since my junior high school prom. I love to have him off-balance. Easier to bob, weave, and jab," he said.

He finished dressing. I should have been starving, but had no appetite. This could be the longest or shortest night of my life. This afternoon didn't count. Tonight was my first, and possibly final, introduction to Benjamin Emanuel Cobb III.

CHAPTER TEN

"He's early to a fault. It's the best way to catch the competition off guard. Make them feel you've been waiting. They start fumbling immediately," Ben said as we stepped into the restaurant.

The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. My stomach flipped again. They'd be civil in public, right?

He took my cold clammy hand and kissed it.

"I know the feeling," he said.

We approached the maître-d, heading into a trap. I heard Ben speak, and we were shown to the table.

Ben's older twin smiled at me. Dark features, dressed in an impeccable navy double-breasted suit, white shirt, red and blue tie. Understated and screaming class. A little gray at the temples of his otherwise jet black hair. The all-knowing smile, the piercing eyes. Mr. Cobb rose and held out his hand.

"Alexia, let me apologize for this afternoon. I'm delighted to see you," he said as he took my hand and kissed it.

These men cast potent spells. I felt drawn to Ben's father.

"I'm glad to meet you again," I said.

The Cobb men exchanged a glance and a nod.

The maître-d moved the table and I sat in the horseshoe booth flanked by the lords of all they surveyed. Drinks were ordered. Scotch for the men and white wine for me. Ben put his hand on my knee. Mr. Cobb put his hand on my hand on the table.

"How do you like your job, Alexia?" he asked.

"I love it. Ben's involved in many different projects. I'm still learning how to keep track of everything."

The drinks arrived, the menus were perused, and dinner was ordered. Steaks for the men, shrimp for me.

"Do you miss Chicago, Mr. Cobb?"

"Please call me Benjamin."

"If you don't mind, I would feel more comfortable calling you Mr. Cobb," I said.

"A bit formal, but we'll see if you can come up with a name for me on your own," he said.

"That shouldn't take long," Ben said as he smiled at his father.

Another stiff glance.

"As you wish, my dear. Helen always called my father Mr. Cobb. Her upbringing was rather strict. How would you describe your own?"

I was up against a pro at this game.

"Strive to be a lady at all times."

"Would your parents approve of my son?"

That was a good question. Mom would want me happy and settled. Dad was another story. Other men disturbed the force and he liked being the center of his all- female household. He didn't like anybody we dated. No guy was worthy of his little girls. I hoped he would find Ben to be the exception to his rule.

"They are deceased, but I'm sure they would. My older sisters are harder to please," I said.

"Would they say he wears too much black? All doom and gloom."

"They are picky and quick to find fault. They wouldn't approve of you either."

Ben laughed, and so did his father. I liked the sound. Sly and real. They only laughed when they were truly amused.

Salads were served and more drinks were ordered. More scotch and I still worked on my first glass of wine.

"Ben mentioned you enjoyed Helen's books," he said.

"They're wonderful. So gifted in her writings and drawings. One of my favorite memories is of my parents reading her books to me. You must be proud of the legacy she's left," I said.

"Helen would be delighted to know how she touched your life. I think the stories show how much love she had inside." His eyes misted up a bit.

"Her books were written for my enjoyment. They were meant to stay private," Ben said as he speared a cherry tomato.

Oh boy, here we go.

"Do you deny the positive effect they have had on millions of children?" Mr. Cobb asked.

"You're missing the point," Ben said.

"No, you are. You think art should be hoarded away for your amusement."

"Leave my work out of this. Mom never meant to be an author. You pushed it on her."

Ben's anger rose, and his father started to respond.

I put one hand on my love's thigh and the other on his father's arm.

"Think about how both of you hurt her when you fight. Helen loved you. To see you tear into each other must still break her heart. What happened or why it happened is immaterial now. She's gone, and you owe her a stable relationship. I'm sure she worked hard to please you both. I can tell it would be an impossible task. Every woman adores her husband and her children. It's up to them to share her attention and affection. Pushing in one direction or the other only pulls her in two uneven pieces. I'm not as strong as Helen so I won't stand between you. I'll simply leave."

Both men stared at me. They had blamed each other for their predicament forever. Along came this bossy stranger who hit them both between the eyes with the truth.

Dinner was served and eaten slowly.

The delicious food became cardboard in my mouth. What right did I have to interfere, butt in? What nerve. I felt the tears stinging my eyes.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry."

Both men stood. I moved the table, grabbed my purse, and made a beeline to the ladies' room. Around the corner, a waitress stopped me.

"Hi, Alexia, remember me, I'm Denise Stone. I worked at the Reign Bar."

She was vaguely familiar. Irene's staff was devoted to her and stayed for life. One waitress left a few months ago after making a play for Bruno and being rebuffed. Must have been Denise.

"Sure, how are you?" I asked.

"Good, you're the talk of the restaurant because you're with the handsomest guys here. Aren't you engaged to one of them?"

"No, just a rumor."

"Those two guys are talking about you. Want to come with me to the wait station and eavesdrop?"

"Is this part of your job description?" I asked.

"Only when two hot guys are involved."

"I just listened in on my sisters."

"Did it work?"

"Yes."

I followed her and leaned in toward our table.