'I guarantee he won't.'
Though she gave the expected chuckle, he sensed a change in her the moment he touched her. The smile fell away and she dropped her eyes. Her arm was soft and bare, and she wore a familiar cologne whose scent he readily associated with her after having smelled it all these
years around the office. He realized again that much of his attraction for her stemmed from the fact that she was every inch a lady, the kind who very naturally commanded a man's respect, the kind who probably didn't do this kind of thing often or lightly.
We've both wondered for a long time, he thought. So let's find out.
Her blue eyes closed and her pink lips opened as he dropped his mouth over hers in a soft, undemanding kiss. She was honest enough to allow herself to sample him-just as he sampled her-before pressing a hand to his chest and backing away.
'No, I don't think so,' she answered quietly, as if he'd asked her a question.
He raised his head in surprise. 'You don't think what?'
'This isn't really what you want.'
'It isn't?' He was baffled by her unusual response to the kiss-very different from what he'd expected.
She shook her head. 'Uh-uh. I know you've wondered, and I'll admit I have, too. But what you really want is someone else, I think.'
He was still smitten by surprise as he asked, out of curiosity, 'Who?'
'Rachel Hollis.' 227
Oddly enough, he didn't even think of denying it. 'How did you know?'
'How did I know? I've worked for you for six years. On more than one occasion, I've watched your eyes follow her when she walked along the street to the bank. There's a certain way a man looks at a woman that tells it all, and you can't even watch her pass by without giving yourself away.'
He'd never realized it showed. He felt rather like a schoolboy caught cheating on a test.
'I've also seen you talking to her on the street lately. When you come back into the office afterward, you're a bundle of frustration.'
Tommy Lee hung his head and tried to think of something to reply.
'Oh, don't look so guilty, all right? It was high time you and I did what we just did, just to get it out of our systems and clear the air. But I'm only a substitute, and I'd rather be a good secretary than a poor substitute.'
'I never realized before how perceptive you are, Liz.'
She crossed her arms and leaned back against the
wall. 'Do you want to talk about it? I've got a willing ear.'
So, to his surprise, he ended up telling her nearly the whole saga of Tommy Lee Gentry and Rachel Talmadge Hollis. It felt wonderful to discuss it with someone who was impartial, who neither made demands of him nor judged him.
When the story ended, she asked him matter-of-factly, 'Well, you aren't going to give up now, are you?'
He was slightly taken aback by the question. 'I don't want to, but she seems dead set against seeing me.'
'Do you think she loves you?'
Why should it be so difficult to answer that simple question? He'd asked it of himself countless times and had always come up with the same answer, the one that made him wonder at Rachel's stubbornness. Answering Liz now, he felt rather timid.
'Yes. Sometimes… yes.'
'Well, then… she's scared, don't you see? And she's got a perfect right to be. Why, look at your record! What woman would willingly take on a man with a record like that?
You've got to assure her you mean it when 229 you say you've changed. But whatever you do, don't give up on her. If she loves you, believe me, it's the last thing she wants.'
'It is?' The idea was stunning. Women were strange birds. Why did they do one thing when they wanted to do another?
'Take my word for it.'
He carried the idea away with him, and it stayed on his mind throughout that sleepless night. The following day he thought about it again, and wondered how he could show her he had changed and was so much happier with the new Tommy Lee that he wouldn't dream of backsliding. That afternoon he was jogging past the end of his driveway when he stopped and eyed the kudzu vine tangled across the ditch. He pondered for some time before finally picking up three rocks and flinging them in, to clear the area of snakes. Then he forced his way through the thick vines to the place where he always used to toss his empties.
As he moved through the ditch, he grew amazed. Lord o'mercy, did I drink all this?
He picked up a can, tossed it up absently, and caught it. Then his eyes narrowed and
he stared off into the distance. All right, Rachel, I'll try one more time.
The following day Rachel came home from work to find a huge black plastic trash bag on her front step, bound at the top by an outsized red satin bow. She approached it cautiously, surveyed its lumpy exterior, touched it with a toe, and heard a metallic clink. Gingerly she untied the bow, peered inside, and found it filled with aluminum beer cans. She also found a note: 'All right, Rachel, you win. I'm cleaning up my act. What else do I have to do to get you to say yes?'
What the hair dryer and flowers had failed to do, the sack of beer cans accomplished. Rachel pressed four fingertips to her lips and burst into tears. Oh, Tommy Lee, you crazy, off-beat, irresistible hellion, can't you see it would never work?
Callie Mae was immediately concerned to find a tearful Rachel dragging a huge black bag into the house.
'Why, Miss Rachel, what's wrong?'
'Everything!' The bag sent out a mysterious sound as Rachel dropped it and dissolved into tears on
Callie Mae's shoulder. 231
A sympathetic hand patted the back of Rachel's head. 'Now, you just tell Callie Mae everything.'
'I can-can't.'
''Course you can. You want to start with what's in that bag that set you off?'
'Oh, Can-Callie Mae,' she wailed, 'it's a go-gift from Tommy Lee.'
Over Rachel's shoulder Callie Mae gave the bag a second look. 'So that's it.'
Rachel drew back and mopped her eyes, still sniffling. 'He won't stop people-pestering me, and I… we…' Her words trailed off and ended with a woeful look of misery and renewed weeping.
'You don't have to explain nothin' to Callie Mae. I see how it is with you two. I always seen.'
'How it is between us two is impossible.' Rachel threw her hands out and began pacing agitatedly.
Callie Mae pursed her mouth and grunted, 'Hmph.' Then she asked, 'You mind if I take a look at what he brung you?' Rachel shook her head and Callie Mae opened the sack
and peered inside. 'Well, now, what do you know about that!' she exclaimed softly, then asked, 'He the one sent you them flowers, too?' Rachel nodded while Callie Mae noted her crestfallen expression. 'Jus' when he call you skinny?'
'Don't you go getting that… that look in your eye, because it isn't going to work. He isn't going to sweet-talk me into making a fool of myself. Not with a philanderer like him.'
Callie Mae crossed her hands against her stomach and affected a sober, judgmental expression. 'Yup, he's a wild one, that Tommy Lee.'
Rachel paced. 'And he couldn't make a single one of his marriages work.'
'Nope. He sure couldn't.'
'And he hasn't gone to church in years.' It wasn't exactly true, but it felt reassuring to heap blame on him.
'At least ten, fifteen.'
'And he still drives like a maniac.'
'He's one crazy white boy, for sure.'
'And you should see the way he lives.' Rachel threw up her hands. 'Why, his house looks like a
pigpen!' Suddenly she came to a 233 halt, looked up, and felt herself color.
