as she scooped the first spoonful of frozen dessert into her mouth.
Simon shook his head, a moment of confusion washing over his expression. “The Speed Channel?”
Michelle spooned a second taste of ice cream into her mouth. “NASCAR’s on and, unlike most men, a good car race has never failed me.”
Mark had been pacing the floor and ranting like a madman ever since Michelle had stormed out of Marah’s office. The woman had barely bothered to say goodbye as she’d made her exit. He’d been stunned, unable to think straight as Vanessa had commanded everyone’s full attention, feigning excitement about her fiancé Mark. The man heaved a deep sigh.
“It’s your own fault,” Luke admonished. “What were you thinking?”
“He wasn’t thinking. That’s half the problem,” Marah said. “I thought you liked Mitch?”
“I did. I mean I do. I…It just…” Mark stammered, fumbling to form a complete sentence.
Vanessa laughed. “I don’t know what you’re getting all worked up about,” she said, mirth gleaming in her pale eyes. “You told me you didn’t want any attachments so what’s the problem?”
Mark stopped in his tracks, doing an about-face to stare at his friend. “And did you have to keep going on and on? And where did you get that damn ring?”
Vanessa smiled, holding up the ring finger on her left hand and the four-carat cubic zirconia ring that adorned it. “Nice touch, huh?”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Well, if you had just shut up for two seconds I might have been able to explain.”
John chuckled. “Not likely. I didn’t get the impression that Mitch was hearing anything you had to say.”
“And what about that?” Mark questioned, tossing his hands into the air. “Don’t you think she overreacted?”
His big brother laughed. “I think you play too much. This is what happens when you play all the time.”
Mark scowled, his expression showing his displeasure with his sibling’s assessment.
Vanessa shrugged. “Well,” she said nonchalantly, “it could have been worse. Just imagine if I had come as your pregnant wife!”
Mark woke early, no sign of morning light peeking through his bedroom windows. Opening his eyes, he struggled to focus then gave up, falling back against the mound of pillows as he closed his eyes tightly. His whole body felt as if he’d been run over by a Mack truck.
Taking a deep inhalation he blew stale breath past his full lips then rolled over onto his side. No one had answered the telephone number that Luke had given him for Michelle. Each time he’d dialed and the phone had rung, Mark imagined her purposely avoiding his calls, still believing he was engaged to be married to the likes of Vanessa. Even his little brother had not been able to get through to her to help pave the way to an explanation and an apology.
A wave of nausea rippled through Mark’s abdomen. He wanted to be sick but he fought the vile sensation. His night hadn’t gone at all the way he’d hoped. It had started on a grand high and then just like that the energy had deflated like a burst balloon gone awry.
His family had been less than sympathetic over his dilemma and his buddy Vanessa had been the only one to find any humor in the moment. Mark rolled over onto his stomach, pressing his abs, chest and face tight against the mattress.
Mark had no explanation for what he was feeling, but the past evening’s events were weighing heavy on his spirit. It wasn’t like this was the first time Vanessa had ever interceded on his behalf, saving him from what surely would have been a relationship disaster. And, if you had asked him before he’d met Michelle he would have told you that it wouldn’t have been the last time. But something about the beguiling woman had him totally unsettled, spiraling so far off his game that he couldn’t remember how to play.
It was way too early to call her, he thought as he lifted his body slightly to peer at the digital clock on the nightstand. Then again, he thought, what did he have to lose? Maybe he’d get lucky and catch her off guard. Maybe she’d have a change of heart and he’d be able to explain that it had all been one bad mix-up. Maybe Michelle would have found the funny that had kept Vanessa doubled over with laughter. As Mark reached for his cell phone and hit the redial button all he could think was just maybe.
Michelle wasn’t happy and her vile mood was far from pleasant. She’d tossed and turned most of the night, sleeping coming in sporadic doses. When she’d finally been able to fall into a deep slumber, the ringing telephone had wakened her, leaving her wide-eyed and evil.
Caller ID had burst many a telemarketer’s dreams but Michelle had been more than grateful for the little invention. Recognizing the familiar number had kept her from answering the early-morning call, insuring that her bad mood wasn’t made worse with her cussing that man out.
She’d been very tempted to pick up the call and cuss. Instead she’d disconnected the ringer on her telephone. Unable to fall back to sleep, she’d risen from her bed, had tossed on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and now she was standing in the center of the garage trying to decide which repair job she wanted to tackle first.
Michelle rested her hands against her lean hips. Thinking about Mark Stallion and why she was in the garage at five o’clock in the morning only served to make her angrier. But she was not going to be moved by the pretty, rich boy who thought the world revolved around him and him alone. Clearly the man had too much time on his hands if he was able to play the games he seemed to be playing with her. As far as Michelle was concerned, Mark Stallion could call all he wanted. She had no intentions of ever answering.
Chapter 6
“Do the words big and baby mean anything to you?” Vanessa asked, her hands hinged to the shelves of her full hips.
“What are you trying to say?” Mark answered, tinkering with the engine of his new race bike.
“I’m not trying to say anything. I said what I had to say. You’re acting like a big baby. What’s with you?”
The man rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond. Instead, he straddled his bike, turned the ignition and backed the bike out of the garage. Vanessa walked out behind him, leaning against the railing as he made his way onto the racetrack. Three laps around the paved surface and Mark was suddenly feeling more like himself. By lap twenty, he was a changed man. Vanessa noted the immediate difference in his attitude.
“Feeling better?” she asked as he swung off his bike, removing his helmet from his head.
Mark nodded, shrugging his shoulders. “Much. Sorry about before but you know…” His voice trailed off as he cut his eye in her direction and back out to the track.
Vanessa nodded. “So am I. I didn’t mean to mess up what you had going on. I just figured…well…you know…” She paused as well, knowing that Mark would be able to finish her thought without her saying another word.
Mark extended a closed fist and Vanessa punched back. “It’s cool,” he said. “I’m over it.”
She smiled. “So—” She was interrupted by the loud roar of a Suzuki race bike careening around the track. Both of them turned to stare, captivated by the precision machinery that was taking the curves with ease. The driver was leaning so sharply that the bike practically lay on its side, both driver and machine appearing as though they might fall flat at any moment.
So enthralled were the two of them watching that neither noticed that they were not alone. A rotund man with a Santa beard and mustache had moved to their side and was watching just as intently, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his khaki slacks. His head was bobbing up and down against his shoulders in excitement and it was only when he let out a very loud whoop did they realize he was there.
Vanessa jumped, startled only momentarily. Mark turned about suddenly,