If the Stiletto Fits...

Lily tapped her nails against the table. Do you want the whole list, or just the top twenty-five? “I’m not getting married, Brian.”

“We’ll have a long engagement.”

“Ever,” she finished.

“Of course you are, darling. You’re lovely and talented, and you need a partner who’ll support and understand you.”

“That’s what a manager is for.” With James running her life and business affairs, what did she need a husband for? She wouldn’t even think about the possibility that he’d really leave. She would find a way to talk him out of this crazy retirement thing.

Since this was the second time tonight she’d found herself dealing with a man who was dead set on pursing a really bad idea, she figured she’d give the logical argument another swing. “We don’t know each other well enough to get married.”

“I know you.”

“What’s my favorite color?”

“Uh…”

“What’s my favorite thing to do?”

“Uh…” He broadened his smile. “We’ll learn all that.”

“Sure we will. It’s called dating.” There was something very odd about all this—not just odd because she hadn’t seen this coming, but suspicious odd. “Don’t most men want sex instead of marriage? Or at least sex first?”

His eyes twinkled. “So glad you brought that up…I’m free after dinner.”

I’ll bet. Sex aside, this was just weird. She and Brian had mild chemistry and business interests in common, but nothing that warranted a proposal. What was really going on? She might be a former farm girl, but she’d lived in the city for ten years. She hadn’t just fallen off the turnip truck.

Lily pulled her hand from his grasp, then leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay. What’s the real deal?”

“We should merge our fashion empires. Think of the possibilities.”

“Our—” She didn’t have a fashion empire—though that was a promising goal—and she knew he didn’t have anything close to an empire. If he didn’t know what his sales were for the spring, he might not even have a business anymore. “So, this is a business proposition, not a proposal.”

“I figured a proposal would better appeal to you as a woman.”

“A lie, as opposed to the truth, you mean.”

He shrugged. “A woman as successful as you needs someone to support her, someone to escort her to functions, someone who won’t be offended when she puts her work first.”

She gasped. The constant reminders about the Spectacular, the seeming lack of direction regarding his business, the way he’d conveniently forgotten his wallet on their last date. It all suddenly made sense. “You’re looking for a sugar mama.”

He looked shocked for a second, then laughed. “I thought that had gone out decades ago. It’s such a charming expression.” Then he stopped abruptly and leaned forward. “Actually, yes, that’s exactly what I had in mind.”

“I see,” she said. She supposed there was still enough of the farm girl in her to actually be shocked by this jaded idea.

“You need a man who’s tied to you legally,” he went on. “One you can trust.”

“I trust James. You, however, I don’t.” She rose and tossed her napkin on her plate. “Goodbye, Brian.”

Eyes wide, Brian stood as well. “Lily, I’m only trying to help. As a woman, you’re in a vulnerable position.”

She stalked two steps forward, planted her four-inch stiletto sandals dangerously close to his instep and glared. “Do I look vulnerable to you?”

“Uh, well…actually—”

“Goodbye, Brian.” She spun away, almost plowing into the waiter who’d obviously rushed over to see what the problem was.

“Madam, can I get you some more wine?” the waiter asked, his expression carefully bland.

I need a lot more wine, pal. She gave him a wan smile. “No, thank you. I’m leaving.”

Brian grabbed her arm. “Do you think you can spot me some cash? I’m kind of tapped out.”

How the hell did she get herself into these situations? She glanced at the waiter, who’d stepped back several feet. She crooked her finger at him, and when he stood in front of her, Lily said quietly, “We’re going to be splitting the check.” She fumbled in her bag for some cash, quickly tallied her dinner, plus a tip to cover the whole check—since she doubted Brian would part with his portion—then slid the bills into the waiter’s hand.

She cut her gaze toward Brian. “He’s on his own.” Whirling, she strode out of the dining room without a backward glance. Red-faced with anger and embarrassment, she retrieved her coat, then stepped outside and asked the valet to hail her a cab. After giving the cabbie her address, she fumed in the back seat.

What was with men these days?

The guy she’d dated before Brian had only been interested in a one-night stand. Then she’d met Brian and had found his easy smile and awareness of her industry refreshing. She’d only had a moment of pause over his slightly superior attitude, though most designers had something of an ego, or at least blind ambitions. If you didn’t believe in your designs, no one else would. But had she foreseen him being a smiling hyena, looking for a woman to feed off for contacts and financial support?

No, she had to say that had been a bit unexpected.

“Merge our fashion empires. What an idiot,” she said aloud.

“Whatever you say,” the cabbie returned in a thick Brooklyn accent.

“Even if I had a fashion empire, why would I want to merge it with a guy via a marriage contract? I mean, they have regular contracts for that kind of stuff.”

“Sure they do.”

“And since I’m not even sure I want to have sex with him, I see absolutely no benefit to me. I mean, isn’t that what marriage is all about—regular and sure-thing sex?”

“Not in my house.”

Another hit to marriage. She’d seen her sister settle into her happy, domestic life, but sex never seemed at the top of her list. There was the house, the kids, the laundry and the carpool. And her husband seemed just as hurried, trying to advance at his job and earn enough to keep his family comfortable and happy.

None of it was easy. Yet they managed. They loved each other, and they managed. Lily admired them, even as she doubted her life would ever be that balanced.

“Can you believe that man! He actually proposed.”

The cabbie shook his head. “I’ll be damned, lady. You just can’t trust anybody these days.”

“Hear, hear. And he’s not the first! Last year this doctor I was dating proposed that I marry him, move to Connecticut and have six kids together.”

“Men are pigs.”

Lily stared out the window at the passing city lights, the people streaming past the shops, the crush of cabs and limos outside the hotels. Damn, she loved New York. Full of crazy men, but still the best.