The First Man You Meet (3 page)

H
ARD THOUGH SHE TRIED
, Shelly had a difficult time ignoring Mark Brady. He sat there, stiff and unapproachable, at the other side of the small restaurant. Just as stiff and unapproachable as she was. Jill wanted to linger over her coffee before returning to her job at the PayRite Pharmacy in the mall, but Shelly was eager to be on her way. The sooner she left, the sooner she could put this bothersome encounter out of her mind.

‘‘Don’t forget Morgan’s baby shower on Tuesday night,’’ Jill said as Shelly reached for her purse.

Shelly had completely forgotten about their friend’s party, which was understandable given her present state of mind. Most of their college friends were married and several were now having babies. Rather than admit how absentminded she’d suddenly become, Shelly asked, ‘‘Do you want to drive over together?’’

‘‘Sure,’’ Jill agreed. ‘‘I have to go directly from work so I’ll stop off at your place and we can leave from there.’’

‘‘Sounds good to me.’’ She tried to imagine their blond, scatterbrained classmate as a wife and mother. It was Morgan who’d gotten the entire dorm hooked on daytime soap operas. Before anyone could figure out how it had occurred, all the girls were obsessed with the characters and their lives. It became as important as mealtimes to learn if Jessie would ever find true love. To the best of Shelly’s knowledge, she hadn’t.

But then, Jessie didn’t have an aunt Milly
. The unexpected thought flashed through her mind.

Irritated with herself, Shelly dropped her share of the bill and a tip on the table. ‘‘I’ll see you Tuesday, then.’’

‘‘Right. And Shelly, don’t look so worried. No enchanted wedding dress is going to disrupt your life unless you allow it to happen.’’

Easy for Jill to say, since it wasn’t her life and her great-aunt’s wedding dress. Nevertheless, her advice was sound. Aunt Milly might have had some fanciful dream about Shelly’s marring a tall man with blue eyes, but that didn’t mean it was going to happen, especially when Shelly was so determined that it wouldn’t.

‘‘You’re absolutely right,’’ she stated emphatically. ‘‘I know I keep saying that, but…well, I seem to need reminding. So, thanks. Again.’’ With a final wave, she wandered out of the restaurant, barely noticing the colorful shop windows as she passed them. As Jill had pointed out, Aunt Milly meant well, but the letter and the wedding dress shouldn’t be taken too seriously. Shelly was content with her life, and the last thing she needed right now was a man. Especially a staid, conventional man like Mark Brady.

Shelly knew exactly what kind of man she’d fall in love with. He’d be intelligent, and fervent about life, and as passionate as she was herself. Naturally, he’d appreciate her work and take pride in his own. He’d need to be a free spirit, like her. Unconventional. She’d like a man with gumption, too—someone who possessed a bit of initiative. It’d be nice if he was a little better at organizational skills than she was, but that wasn’t absolutely necessary.

With thoughts of marriage so prominent in her mind, Shelly soon found herself standing in front of a jeweler’s display window. A large assortment of wedding bands had captured her attention. Scanning the selection, she found one ring that stood out from the rest: three small rows of diamond chips, bracketed on each side by a thin band of
gold. The ring was striking in its simplicity, its uncontrived beauty.

For the longest moment Shelly stared at the rings as her mind wove whimsical dreams around the happy bride and the tall groom.
Tall groom
. Her thoughts came to a skidding halt.

What on earth had come over her? She didn’t know, but whatever it was, she didn’t like it. Self-consciously she glanced around, fearful that someone was watching her. Well, a very specific someone, to be honest. Someone who definitely shouldn’t see her gazing with open longing at a collection of absurdly high-priced wedding rings. Mark Brady.

With a sense of urgency, Shelly hurried toward the mall exit, her feet barely able to move fast enough. It was all she could do to keep from breaking into a run. No matter how fast she walked, however, she couldn’t shake the feeling that
he
was there, watching her. Twice she whirled around, convinced she’d find Mark Brady strolling behind her, sneering and making contemptuous remarks.

He wasn’t there.

Shelly felt herself relax as she neared her apartment. She parked her car, then stopped in the lobby to collect her mail. As soon as she opened the small box, Mrs. Livingston’s head poked out her door.

‘‘Good afternoon, Shelly,’’ she chirped, gazing at her expectantly.

It took Shelly a moment to realize that Mrs. L. must have been waiting to hear about the contents of her package.

‘‘It’s a lovely day,’’ Shelly said conversationally, sorting through her mail. Two bills, a flyer and something from the Internal Revenue Service. The way her luck had been going, it was probably an audit notice. A quick in
spection revealed exactly that. She closed her eyes and groaned inwardly.

‘‘A lovely day indeed,’’ Mrs. Livingston echoed cheerfully.

Muttering under her breath, Shelly stuffed the IRS notice back inside the envelope. When she glanced up, she noticed that the older woman was now standing in the hallway, wearing another vividly colored outfit—turquoise and purple this time.

‘‘I suppose you’re wondering about the package,’’ Shelly said resignedly, tucking her mail inside her purse. ‘‘It was a gift from my aunt Milly.’’

‘‘Something from the past, I guess?’’ Mrs. Livingston asked.

‘‘Why…yes, how’d you know?’’

‘‘I’d take whatever it was very, very seriously if I were you,’’ Mrs. Livingston continued in a solemn voice. ‘‘Wizard wouldn’t go anywhere near that box. Think what you want, but my cat has always had a sixth sense when it comes to this sort of thing.’’

‘‘It’s a dress, Mrs. L.’’ Shelly explained, hiding behind a falsely bright smile. ‘‘How am I supposed to take a dress seriously?’’

Mrs. Livingston opened her apartment door and scooped the large black-and-white cat into her arms. ‘‘That I wouldn’t know,’’ she returned, her eyes narrowed and mysterious. ‘‘All I can tell you is that Wizard felt skittish around that package. You don’t suppose there’s…magic in it, do you?’’

Somehow Shelly managed a reply, although she felt certain it was unintelligible. Taking the stairs two at a time, she hurried into her apartment, leaning breathlessly against the door once she was inside. Even Mrs. Livingston’s cat knew there was something strange about Aunt Milly’s wedding dress!

W
HEN
J
ILL ARRIVED
late Tuesday afternoon, Shelly was ready and waiting for her, brightly wrapped baby gift in hand. She was eager to get out and socialize—eager to get out, period. Anything to escape another phone call from her mother, who’d recently heard from Aunt Milly. Now Faith Hansen was calling daily for updates on the romantic prospects in her daughter’s life.

‘‘Well,’’ Jill demanded as she entered the apartment. ‘‘Are you going to show it to me?’’

‘‘Show what to you?’’

Jill gave her a look that seemed to question her friend’s intelligence. ‘‘The wedding dress, of course.’’

For several hours Shelly had managed to put the dress out of her mind. ‘‘No,’’ she said forcefully. ‘‘I want to forget about the whole thing.’’

‘‘Met any tall blue-eyed men lately?’’ Jill couldn’t resist asking.

‘‘None,’’ Shelly answered shortly. Checking her watch, she noted that they were early but suggested they leave, anyway. ‘‘Shouldn’t we go now?’’

‘‘We’ve got lots of time,’’ Jill countered, moving toward Shelly’s bedroom. ‘‘Come on, it isn’t going to hurt to let me look at the dress.’’

‘‘Oh, all right,’’ Shelly conceded ungraciously. Leading the way, she opened the closet door and reached into the back of the closet.

She brought out the lace-and-satin gown, holding it up for Jill’s inspection. She’d barely looked at the dress the day she’d received it, and now she was almost shocked by how breathtakingly beautiful it actually was.

The laughter drained from Jill’s dark brown eyes as she stared at the gown. ‘‘Oh, Shelly, it’s…lovely.’’ She gently touched the Elizabethan sleeve and ran her finger along the delicate layer of pearls that decorated the cuff. The high neckline was also trimmed with an intricate design of
pearls, so that it resembled a choke collar. ‘‘I don’t know what I expected,’’ Jill continued in an awed whisper, ‘‘but certainly nothing as beautiful as this.’’

Shelly nodded wordlessly. The dress was far more exquisite than she’d realized. Her heart swelled with unexpected emotion, and to her dismay, tears filled her eyes as she thought about the old Scottish woman who had so lovingly constructed the gown. Each pearl had been sewn into place by hand. She thought of her aunt Milly, as tall and statuesque as Shelly herself, wearing the dress. Then she recalled her uncle John, such a determined man. She imagined him, standing tall and proud beside Milly. Shelly thought fondly of those two, who’d been so completely different, yet had loved each other so well.…

For a moment neither she nor Jill spoke. ‘‘Have you tried it on?’’ Jill asked finally.

Shelly shook her head adamantly, not wanting her friend to realize how emotional she’d become. ‘‘Heavens, no, but you can if you want.’’

‘‘I don’t think I could resist if I were you,’’ Jill whispered, obviously affected by the dress, too. ‘‘Just seeing it…makes me long to be a bride myself.’’

‘‘There’s always Ralph,’’ Shelly teased. Jill had been dating Ralph, a computer programmer, for several months, but frankly she couldn’t understand what her friend saw in him.

Jill tossed her an irritated look. ‘‘The dress is for you, not me.’’

‘‘But I don’t want it,’’ Shelly insisted, though she was no longer sure what she felt. Not since she’d really examined the dress and allowed herself to remember the wonder of John and Milly’s romance.

‘‘You’re sure you don’t mind?’’ Jill asked, slipping off her shoes. ‘‘I mean, if you’d rather I didn’t try it on, I’ll understand.’’

‘‘No, feel free.’’ Shelly strove for a flippant air. ‘‘As far as I’m concerned the dress is nothing but bad luck. It arrived on Friday the thirteenth. The next day I had that minor accident on the mall escalator. Now I’m being audited by the IRS.’’

It was as if Jill didn’t hear. ‘‘I doubt it’ll fit,’’ she said as she cautiously removed the gown from the padded hanger. ‘‘I’m a good five inches shorter than you and heavier on top.’’

‘‘Maybe the dress was meant for you in the first place,’’ Shelly ventured. Perhaps Aunt Milly had been confused and it was Jill she’d viewed in her dream. After all, Milly’s eyes weren’t what they used to be.…

‘‘Does your mother know?’’ Jill asked as she stepped into the dress. She raised it over her hips and turned around to let Shelly fasten the buttons that ran down the back.

‘‘That’s another thing,’’ Shelly moaned. ‘‘Mom’s been calling me every day since the dress arrived, wanting to know if I’ve met anyone special yet.’’

‘‘What did you tell her?’’ Jill asked, looking at Shelly over her shoulder.

‘‘What’s there to tell?’’ she asked irritably.

‘‘Well, you might have mentioned Mark.’’

‘‘Mark,’’ Shelly repeated. She shrugged elaborately. ‘‘I haven’t given him a thought in days.’’ Not strictly true, but she’d been
trying
not to think about him. Even if he was interested in her—and he’d made very clear that he wasn’t—she couldn’t imagine two more ill-suited people. ‘‘I haven’t seen him since last Saturday and I doubt I’ll ever see him again.’’

‘‘You’re sure of that?’’

‘‘Positive.’’

‘‘Well, what do you think?’’ Jill asked next, pirouetting slowly in front of her. ‘‘My hair’s a mess and I’ve got hardly any makeup on, but…’’

Shelly looked at her friend and sighed audibly. Never had she seen Jill look lovelier. It was as if the dress had been made for her. ‘‘You look absolutely enchanting. It fits like a dream.’’

‘‘I feel like I am dreaming,’’ Jill admitted softly. ‘‘Here,’’ she said, turning around, ‘‘undo me before I start longing for a husband and 2.5 children.’’

‘‘Don’t forget the house with the white picket fence,’’ Shelly teased, unfastening the buttons.

Jill slipped out of the dress. ‘‘Your turn,’’ she said as she laid it carefully across the bed. ‘‘If it fits me, then it can’t possibly fit you. You’ve got the perfect excuse to mail it back to your aunt Milly.’’

‘‘I…don’t know.’’ Shelly bit her lip. She felt an inexplicable urge to keep the dress, and at the same time she would’ve willingly express-mailed it back to her aunt. Even while she hesitated, Shelly found herself undressing. She couldn’t explain her sudden eagerness to try on the wedding gown any more than she could fathom its growing emotional appeal.

The dress slid easily over her hips. She turned around so Jill could secure the back, then glanced toward the mirror, expecting to find the skirt miles too short. It would have to be in order to fit Jill as perfectly as it had.

‘‘Shelly,’’ Jill whispered, then cupped her hand over her mouth. ‘‘My goodness…you look beautiful…really beautiful.’’

The sentiment was what Shelly had felt when she’d viewed her friend in the dress. ‘‘Something’s wrong,’’ she said once she found her voice. ‘‘Something’s very wrong.’’

‘‘No,’’ Jill countered, ‘‘it’s very right. It’s as if the dress was made for you.’’

‘‘Then answer me this,’’ Shelly whispered. ‘‘How is it possible for the same dress to fit two women who wear totally different sizes?’’

Shelly struggled to open the door of the Internal Revenue office, her arms weighted down with a huge box stuffed full of receipts and records she’d need for the audit. By bracing the box against the wall with her knee, she freed one hand to open the door. For the first time ever, she’d completed her tax return early—all by herself, too—and
this
was where it got her. She grumbled righteously and bit her lip, more in anxiety than annoyance.

She’d just managed to grasp the door handle, when the door unexpectedly opened and she staggered into the room, nearly colliding with an end table. She did a quick pirouette, convinced she’d ruined a new pair of panty hose. With a heartfelt sigh, she set her box of records on the floor and sank into the first available chair, neatly arranging her unaccustomed skirt around her knees. Only then did she bother to look around. There was one other person in the large reception area.

Shelly’s heart did a nosedive, landing somewhere in the pit of her stomach. The man who’d opened the door for her, the man sitting in this very waiting room, was none other than Mark Brady—the man she’d hoped to avoid for the rest of her natural life. She gave an involuntary gasp.

Mark was leafing through the dog-eared pages of a magazine when he happened to glance her way. The automatic smile quickly faded from his face, and his gaze narrowed as if he strongly suspected Shelly had purposely arranged this meeting.

‘‘What are you doing here?’’ Shelly demanded.

‘‘I might ask you the same thing.’’

‘‘I didn’t follow you here, if that’s what you’re implying!’’

‘‘Listen, Ms.…Hansen, I really couldn’t care less.’’ With that he returned to his magazine as if he were reading the fine print in a million-dollar contract. ‘‘
You’re
the person who blurted out to everyone within hearing distance that you weren’t marrying me. As if I’d even asked! As if I even
knew
you!’’

Shelly felt the heat rising up her neck and quickly offered the first excuse she could think of. ‘‘I…was distraught.’’

‘‘Obviously,’’ he muttered from behind his magazine.

A few minutes of strained silence passed. Shelly shifted uncomfortably in her chair, checking her watch every couple of minutes. For the first time in recent history she was early for an appointment, but if this was where promptness got you, she’d prefer to be late.

‘‘All right, I apologize,’’ Shelly said when she couldn’t tolerate the silence any longer. ‘‘I realize it was utterly ridiculous and…and out of turn—’’

‘‘Out of turn,’’ Mark echoed, slapping the magazine down on the table. ‘‘I repeat—I don’t even know you.’’

‘‘I realize that.’’

He inhaled deeply, which drew her attention to his broad, muscular chest. She noticed that he was as meticulously dressed as he’d been at their first encounter. His dark suit and silk tie, however conventional, added a touch of sophistication to his natural good looks.

‘‘If there’s anyone to blame for this it’s Aunt Milly,’’ Shelly said, more to herself than to him.

‘‘Aunt Milly?’’ Mark repeated, sounding unsure. He eyed her warily.

She’d said this much; she might as well launch into the whole ridiculous tale.

‘‘Actually, it has more to do with the wedding dress than with my aunt Milly, although by now the two of them are inseparable in my mind. I don’t usually dabble in this sort of thing, but I’m beginning to believe there just might be something supernatural about that silly dress, after all.’’

‘‘Supernatural?’’

‘‘Magic, if you prefer.’’

‘‘Magic in a wedding dress?’’ Mark gazed hopefully at the door that led to the inner offices of Internal Revenue, as though he was anxious to be called away.

‘‘It’s unbelievable, but the dress fits both Jill and me—which is virtually impossible. You saw Jill—she’s the friend I was having lunch with last Saturday. I know we were halfway across the room from you, but you couldn’t help noticing how much shorter she is than I am. We’re completely different sizes.’’

Mark hurriedly reached for the magazine as if he wanted to shut her out again before she said anything else.

‘‘I know it sounds crazy. I don’t like this any better than you do, but I’m honestly afraid it was you Aunt Milly mentioned in her letter.’’ Well, it was only fair to tell him that.

Mark glanced in her direction again, blue eyes suspicious. ‘‘Your aunt Milly mentioned me in a letter?’’

‘‘Not by name—but she said she had a clear vision of me in the wedding dress and I was standing with a tall man. She also mentioned blue eyes. You’re tall and you have blue eyes and the legend says I’m going to marry the first man I meet after receiving the dress.’’

‘‘And I just happened to be that man?’’

‘‘Yes,’’ Shelly cried. ‘‘Now do you understand why I was so disturbed when we met?’’

‘‘Not entirely,’’ Mark said after a moment.

Shelly rolled her eyes. How obtuse could the man be? ‘‘You’re tall, aren’t you? And you have blue eyes.’’

He flipped intently through the magazine, not looking up at her as he spoke. ‘‘Actually, I really don’t care what the letter said, nor am I concerned about this wedding dress you keep mentioning.’’

‘‘Of course you don’t care,’’ Shelly said indignantly. ‘‘Why should you? It must all seem quite absurd to you. And I’m aware that I’m overreacting, but I do have a tendency to get emotional about things. If it helps any, I want you to know I’m content with my life just the way it is. I don’t want to get married now—to anyone.’’ When she’d finished, she sucked in a deep breath and began leafing idly through a magazine, doing her utmost to ignore him.

Silence returned. Silences had always bothered Shelly. It was as if she felt personally responsible for filling them. ‘‘If you want something to be grateful about, you can thank your lucky stars I didn’t mention you to my mother.’’

‘‘Your mother,’’ Mark repeated, briefly glancing at her. ‘‘Does she know about Aunt Milly sending you this…dress?’’

‘‘Naturally she does,’’ Shelly answered, closing the magazine. ‘‘She’s phoned me every day since she heard, because she thinks I’m going to meet that special someone any minute.’’

‘‘And you didn’t mention me?’’

‘‘How could I? The instant I do that, she’ll be contacting the caterers.’’

‘‘I see.’’ The edges of his mouth lifted as though he was beginning to find the situation amusing. ‘‘She believes in the power of this dress, too?’’

‘‘Unfortunately, yes. You have to understand where my mother stands on this marriage business,’’ Shelly continued, undaunted.

‘‘I’m not sure I want to,’’ Mark muttered under his breath.

Shelly disregarded his comment. ‘‘By age twenty-eight—my age now, coincidentally—Mom had been married for eight years and already had three children. She’s convinced I’m letting the best years of my life slip away. There’s nothing I can say to make her believe differently.’’

‘‘Then I’ll add my gratitude that you didn’t mention me.’’

Mollified, Shelly nodded, then glanced at her watch. Her meeting was in ten minutes and she was nervous, since this was the first time she’d done her own taxes. She should have known there’d be a problem.

‘‘I take it you’re here for an audit?’’ Mark asked.

She nodded again, studying her tax return, sure she’d be in jail by nightfall without even understanding what she’d done wrong.

‘‘Relax.’’

‘‘How can I?’’

‘‘Have you knowingly hidden something from the government? Lied about the income you received, or claimed expenditures you’ve never made?’’

‘‘Oh, no!’’

‘‘Then you don’t have anything to worry about.’’

‘‘I don’t?’’ Shelly stared at him, soaking up his confidence. She’d been restless for days, worrying about this meeting. If it wasn’t the wedding dress giving her nightmares, it was the audit.

‘‘Don’t volunteer any information unless they ask for it.’’

‘‘All right.’’

‘‘Did you prepare your own tax return?’’

‘‘Well, yes. It didn’t seem that complicated, and well, I realize this sounds silly but Jill bet me I couldn’t do it. So I did. Back in February. You see, usually numbers boggle my mind and I decided to accept the challenge, and…’’ She realized she was chattering, something she did when
she was nervous. Forcing herself to stay quiet, she scanned her return for the hundredth time, wondering what she could have possibly done wrong.

‘‘Do you want me to check it over for you?’’

Shelly was surprised by his generosity. ‘‘If you wouldn’t mind. Are you being audited yourself?’’

Mark smiled and shook his head. ‘‘A client of mine is.’’

‘‘Oh.’’

Mark crossed the room and sat next to her. When Shelly handed him her tax return, his gaze ran quietly down the row of figures, then he asked her several questions.

‘‘I’ve got everything right here,’’ she assured him, gesturing toward the carton she’d lugged in with her. ‘‘I really am careful about saving everything I should.’’

Mark glanced down at the large cardboard box. ‘‘This is all for one year?’’

‘‘No,’’ she admitted sheepishly. ‘‘I brought along everything I had for the past six years. I mean, it made sense at the time.’’

‘‘That really wasn’t necessary.’’

‘‘I’d rather be safe than sorry,’’ Shelly said, managing a small grin. She watched Mark as he scrutinized her return. At such close range, she saw that his eyes were even bluer than she’d thought. Blue as the sky on a bright July afternoon, she told herself fancifully. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, and hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep from staring.

Mark handed back her return. ‘‘Everything looks fine. I don’t think you’ll have a problem.’’

It was amazing how relieved she felt at hearing that. No, at hearing that from
him
. Mark smiled at her and Shelly found herself responding readily with a smile of her own. The fluttery sensation returned to her stomach. She knew her eyes were wide and questioning and although she tried to look away, she couldn’t make herself do it.

A look of surprise mingled with gentleness came over Mark’s features, as if he were seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. He liked what he saw—Shelly could read that in his eyes. Slowly his gaze traveled over her features, and she felt her pulse tripping into double time. The letter she’d received from Aunt Milly flitted across her mind, but instead of dismissing the memory, she wondered,
Could there really be something to all this?

Mark was the one to break eye contact. He stood abruptly and hurried back to his seat. ‘‘I don’t think you have much to be concerned about.’’

‘‘Yes, you told me.’’

‘‘I mean about your aunt Milly’s wedding dress.’’

‘‘I don’t have anything to worry about?’’ Shelly wasn’t sure she understood.

‘‘Not with me, at any rate.’’

‘‘I don’t quite follow…’’ If he was even half-aware of the way her heart was clamoring as they gazed into each other’s eyes, he wouldn’t be nearly as confident.

‘‘I’m engaged.’’

‘‘Engaged?’’ Shelly felt as though someone had slugged her in the stomach. Her first reaction was anger. ‘‘You couldn’t have mentioned this sooner?’’ she snapped.

‘‘It’s not official yet. Janice hasn’t picked out a diamond. Nor have we discussed our plans with her family.’’

The irritation faded, swallowed by an overwhelming sense of relief. ‘‘Engaged,’’ she repeated, reminding herself that she really had no interest in marriage. And this proved there was no such thing as a ‘‘magic’’ wedding dress. If Mark was involved with Janice, he wouldn’t be free to marry her. It was that simple. Shelly leaped to her feet and started to pace.

‘‘Are you all right?’’ Mark asked. ‘‘You’re looking pale.’’

She nodded and pressed her hands to her cheeks, which
suddenly felt hot. ‘‘I’m so relieved,’’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘‘You have no idea how relieved I am. You’re engaged… My goodness, I feel like I’ve got a new lease on life.’’

‘‘As I explained,’’ Mark said, frowning, ‘‘it isn’t official yet.’’

‘‘That doesn’t matter. You’re committed to someone else and that’s all that matters. However—’’ she forced a smile ‘‘—you might have said something sooner and saved me all this anxiety.’’

‘‘You did ask that day at the mall, but I was more concerned with avoiding a scene than revealing the personal details of my life.’’

‘‘I’m sorry about that.’’

‘‘No problem,’’ Mark was quick to assure her.

Shelly settled back in the chair and crossed her legs, hoping to stroke a relaxed pose. She even managed to skim through a couple of magazines, although she barely knew what she was reading.

Finally, the receptionist opened the door and called her name. Eager to get this over with, Shelly stood, picking up the large box she’d brought in with her. She paused on her way out of the reception area and turned to Mark. ‘‘I wish you and Janice every happiness,’’ she said formally.

‘‘Thank you,’’ he answered, then grinned. ‘‘The same to you and whomever the wedding dress finds for you to marry.’’