| manette |
The Men You Pick |
November 12, 2003 |
Disclaimer: They belong to DPB and Paramount.
Author Notes: Yet another story inspired by the "You're funny" remark. This one is longer than my other stories but that's not necessarily a good thing because when I finally decided to write a long story, Harm and Mac decided to behave like juveniles all the way through it. I say that affectionately, but the story got stuck in my head so I wrote it anyway. It's just a silly love story--
There was an extra bounce in Harm's step as he left Mac's office and walked into his own.
"You're funny," she'd told him with that luminous smile.
Grinning, he sat down at his desk and congratulated himself on the way he'd handled this latest situation. He had taken the bull by the horns, marched right up to her and confronted her about their baby deal. Okay, he had hem-hawed around, circled the topic, and stumbled over his words, but at least he should get some credit for broaching the subject in the first place.
He hadn't been able to think about anything else since the day she'd mentioned AJ's fifth birthday. The idea that she might be ready to go ahead with their agreement scared him to death. Not because he hated the idea of having a baby with Mac—lately he couldn't imagine anyone else as the mother of his children. No, it scared him because he really believed that their relationship was carefully and steadily moving along in the right direction. They were closer now than they had ever been, and he didn't want anything to upset the delicate balance they had worked so hard to achieve. If they ever decided to go halves on a baby he had started to hope that little AJ's fifth birthday would have nothing to do with it.
But her reaction had been a pleasant surprise. Instead of getting annoyed or upset, she had taken his bumbling questions in stride, reassured him that she wasn't ready to have a baby, and shooed him out of her office so she could finish her work for the day.
It was another sign that they were finally on the right track. He cherished this new ease they had when they were together, the simple comfort they found in each other's company. He loved her, and he knew she cared about him, but he wasn't going to force the issue. It had taken them seven years to get to this point, and he was willing to wait seven more if necessary. She was worth it, and after today he really didn't think he would have to wait much longer to tell her how he felt. As long as it takes, he thought contentedly before he got back to work.
The afternoon flew by even though he was immersed in dull reports and mountains of paperwork. He was about to call it a day when Mac poked her head in his door and asked, "Hey, are you still picking me up for the poker game tonight?"
"Yeah, I'll come by around 1800, and we can grab something to eat first."
"Sounds good." She remained in his doorway looking uncertain. "Harm, can I talk to you about something else?"
"Sure. Come on in." He stood up to grab a file that was on the edge of his desk and smiled. "What's up?"
She looked a little flushed as she sat down in one of his chairs. "I've been doing some serious thinking this afternoon, and I have come to an important decision."
"About what, Mac?" he asked apprehensively. Maybe she had changed her mind about the baby deal.
She hesitated slightly before announcing decisively, "I think it's time for me to start dating again."
He didn’t understand. "What do you mean?"
"I think I need to start going out with men—you know, have a social life." Mac smiled as if this was a perfectly reasonable thing to say.
"You want to date men?" Completely stunned, he sat down abruptly. His voice had risen slightly, and he still couldn't quite process her words.
She had the nerve to laugh. "That would be my first choice."
All he could do was stare at her. In less than three seconds she had managed to turn his world completely upside down.
She was still talking, so he tried to concentrate—"And of course, I have to thank you for helping me realize that I have to get on with my life." She was smiling at him now as if she had bestowed a great honor on him.
"Mac," he managed to get out. "I'm confused. Why do you need to date? You have me."
Mac laughed again, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out what was so funny.
"I know I have you, Harm, and I love you for it. You treat me just like one of the guys. I've got the bruises from last week's basketball game to prove it."
"You are one of the guys, Mac—" She looked at him pointedly. "—I mean. You're not one of the guys, but we have fun hanging out, don't we?"
"Of course we have fun, and that may be one of the sweetest things you have ever said to me. Don't worry. I'm not giving up Friday night poker, but I think it's time I made some changes. Talking about our baby deal just made me realize it."
"What has that got to do with anything? I said I didn't want out of the deal, and I meant it," he said sincerely.
"I know, Harm. You're a good man who takes his promises seriously. And even if you did want out of it you're too much of a gentleman to say so. Once you take on a responsibility you fulfill it come hell or high water."
"Is that such a bad thing?" he asked.
"Of course not. It's one of your more admirable traits, but that's why I realized how unfair I'm being to you. You're my best friend in the whole world, and we could go along as we have been—happily spending all of our spare time together—but if neither of us is involved in any other relationship, then I'm afraid the specter of little AJ's fifth birthday will start to loom over us like a big dark cloud -getting ever closer as the months tick by."
"Mac, I don't feel that way at all."
"I expected you to say that. But I saw the look on your face. You were scared to death when you thought I wanted to move the deal up, and that's exactly why I owe it to you to start dating other men. Don't you see? This will take the pressure off because there's always a chance that one of us could meet someone else—someone serious. And if we don’t then we can both consider our options on AJ's birthday."
Oh great! She could meet someone serious! That was something to look forward to. He suddenly felt nauseous. He had lived through this with Lowne and Brumby, and he wasn't sure he could survive it again.
"I wasn't scared—" he started, but she cut him off.
"Harm, you don't have to explain. Really. I understand."
The only thing he understood was that this was a no win situation. If he got down on his knees at this very moment and declared his eternal love, she would dismiss it as misguided chivalry. And if she really wanted to date other men, then eternal love wasn’t what she wanted from him anyway.
"So, Mac," he struggled for a pleasant tone but his stomach was still tied up in knots. "Where do you plan to find these men, anyway?"
"I don't know. I haven't given it much thought."
"Well, that's part of your problem. When it comes to dating you've never given it much thought."
"Is that so?" her voice was deceptively calm.
He didn't notice the fire in her eyes as he warmed to his subject. "No, you just jump in head first. Never mind if the guy is trustworthy or not. All a man has to do is flatter you, and the next thing you know, you're acting all silly over him."
"I guess that's why I never acted silly over you."
Oblivious to her growing temper, he continued. "What are you going to do? Start hanging out at single's bars?"
"Well, I don't think it will come to that. Men ask me out all the time."
"They do?" He asked incredulously. Where had he been when all of these men were asking her out?
Taken aback by his tone, she responded defensively, "Well, you don't have to sound so surprised. Some men do find me attractive, you know."
"Oh, Mac, that's not what I meant."
"I know what you meant, Harm. You've always had a problem with the men I pick."
"That's not true—" he stopped when she pinned him with a 'get real' look.
"I just always felt you could do better—" Better, as in me, he thought miserably.
Well then, since you seem to be such an expert on who I should date, maybe you should help me find this Mr. Perfect."
"Why would I do that?" He sounded appalled. Somebody should just shoot him.
"Because you seem to think you know what's best for me," she said indignantly.
"Maybe I do," he claimed heatedly.
"Oh really?"
"Really!"
They stared at each other defiantly, but then the fight seemed to go out of them both at the same time.
"Mac—" he started before she interrupted him.
"You'll help me because you’re my friend, Harm and because you want me to be happy. Life would be better for both of us if you liked the guy this time."
"I don't want our life to be better," he said petulantly.
She just laughed again, her irritation with him seemingly now gone.
"You know, what I mean, Mac." He looked pitiful. "I just like things the way they are."
She got up and walked toward the door. As she left she turned and said reassuringly, "We'll be okay, Harm. You'll see."
Somehow, he doubted that.
Mac let herself into her apartment, dropped her briefcase onto the floor, kicked off her shoes and threw herself face down onto her sofa.
With her face buried in the couch cushions she thought about the mess she had just made of her life. How could she have been so dumb? How could she have been so stupid? She let out a muffled scream and pummeled the pillows with her fists. Then she flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling.
She was a level headed woman, sensible and logical to a fault, but let Harmon Rabb, Jr. get within two feet of her emotional boundaries, and she reverted into someone that would make an eighth grader seem mature. She had seen the fear on his face when he asked her about the baby deal, and though she had managed to cover her feelings at the time, it had pierced her like a knife.
They had been so close lately, spending as much time together as they did apart. And it had been wonderful. She had been certain that it was leading somewhere this time, until today when he had looked at her with something close to desperation in his eyes. He looked trapped, and she loved him too much to ever be the one to trap him.
If she hadn't been so blinded by love, she would have seen this coming. It seemed obvious looking back on things. Their friendship was wonderful, but that's all it was for Harm. While she often longed to grab him and kiss him when he was being expectedly annoying or unusually adorable, he apparently didn't feel the same way about her. He seemed to have no trouble keeping his hands to himself. How many lonely nights had she spent all alone in her bed trying not to think about that?
She knew that Harm felt guilty about whatever part he might have played in Mic's abrupt departure. Whether he should or not, he felt responsible for her now. She had hoped that his new need to watch out for her was being motivated by love and not just duty. After today she couldn't fool herself anymore. But she also knew how seriously he took his responsibilities, and he wouldn't walk away from this one unless she helped him.
So, she had tried to let him off the hook, backpedaled for his sake as well as hers, and the result had been this harebrained scheme.
It had seemed like a simple solution. She would go on some innocent dates, pretend that she was having the time of her life, and he would be relieved and happy.
But of course these things never went according to plan. He had opened his big mouth about her lack of taste in men, and she had reacted the way she always did when she thought he was pushing her. She pushed back. So now, not only was she going to have to start dating, she was going to have to start dating men that Harm picked out for her. And she had no one to blame but herself.
She dragged herself off the couch and walked into her bedroom. Resisting the urge to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head, she started for the shower. It was time to get ready for the big poker game. She would laugh and bluff her way through it somehow. Good ole Mac. No one would suspect that everything was different now.
She stood under the warm water, replaying her conversation with Harm in her head. At first he had seemed surprised and almost hurt by her decision. But he'd certainly gotten over it soon enough. Before she knew it he had launched into his now familiar lecture about her dating habits. She rubbed shampoo into her hair, working it and herself into a lather.
Of course she had overreacted, and now she was kicking herself for letting him push her buttons that way. She rinsed her hair and poured more shampoo into her hand. Furiously scrubbing her scalp, she mentally chastised herself for falling into the same old trap.
It was an old game for the two of them, she realized, as she once more rinsed and without thinking added more shampoo to her hair. He would feign disapproval of the man she was with, act jealous and territorial, but in the end it didn't mean anything. She knew that for certain now, and the pain of facing it had caused her to challenge him. It had been a stupid thing to do.
She slumped against the shower wall as soap suds slid down her face. And of course, it was a challenge he couldn't win—because no matter how many men he might parade past her door—he was the only man she wanted.
She stared at the new puddle of shampoo in her hand, wondering how it had gotten there. After rinsing her hand and her squeaky clean hair one final time she turned off the water and stepped out onto the bathmat.
She dried herself off, used the blow dryer on her hair, and then took a little more care than normal picking out her clothes. She needed to feel pretty tonight—if only for herself. She put on jeans and a soft clingy red sweater, and for good measure, added a dab of cologne. Being one of the boys tonight was going to require a little extra armor.
She started applying her make-up, but she was distracted by visions of Harm showing up at her door with a long line of men in tow. What kind of man would he consider suitable for her anyway?
She absentmindedly sponged layers of foundation onto her face as she pictured some namby-pamby fellow that still lived with his parents and played video games for hours on end.
She distractedly brushed blush onto her checks as she imagined some roly-poly guy that watched sports all night and never got off the couch long enough to exercise.
She inattentively applied a smoky gray eye shadow to her lids while envisioning some elderly gentleman with a handlebar mustache and a walker.
She stroked mascara onto her lashes with a vengeance while she conjured up a jovial used car salesman in a plaid suit.
She was just putting on her lipstick when a loud, insistent knocking brought her out of her reverie.
Figuring it was Harm she hurried to the door. "You're early," she said as she jerked it open.
"I know, Mac--," he trailed off and just stood in the doorway staring, wide-eyed.
"Well, come on in. I'm almost ready." She felt uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her.
He didn't move, but continued to stare. "Wow," he finally managed to get out.
"What's the matter with you?" Mac grabbed his arm and pulled him inside the apartment.
"Nothing—," he blinked and closed the door behind him. "It's just—Wow—your face—"
"What's wrong with my face?" she asked suspiciously as she hurried over to the mirror that hung by the front door. He didn't sound like a man overcome by her beauty.
Horrified by the clown face that stared back at her from the mirror, and unable to stifle a gasp, Mac tried to act nonchalant as she turned back to Harm. "I'm afraid you arrived before I finished my make-up."
She headed for her bedroom with Harm at her heels. "You mean you're going to put on some more?" He seemed amused and a little fascinated.
"I might," she said while glaring at him. It was his fault that she'd lost all ability to concentrate. She looked like a floozy, a painted tart. And he seemed to think it was hilarious.
He followed her all the way into the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, watching as she grabbed a washcloth and started scrubbing her face.
"Interesting technique, Mac."
"Shut up, Harm," she said as she pushed past him and walked over to her vanity.
She took a moment to fix her eye make-up, swiped a little lipstick across her mouth then turned toward him gamely. "I'm ready. Let's go."
Harm walked over to her, placed his finger under her chin and lifted her face, pretending to examine it closely. "There's the Mac I know and love."
Her bruised heart jumped at his choice of words, but she hid behind a teasing comeback. "Let's see if you still love me after I win all of your money tonight." She pulled away from him and headed toward the front door.
"Oh, so you learned how to play poker since last week?" He was laughing as he followed her out of the apartment.
Harm and Mac sat in a worn leather booth in the back of Ginger's Tea Room the same way they did almost every Friday night before their poker game. Despite its name, it was old and dark and dreary, and there wasn’t a lace tablecloth in the place. But the food was incredible, and they had adopted it as one of their favorites.
Harm watched Mac as she studied the menu. "Don't you know what you want yet?"
"I'm not sure. It’s so hard to decide," she said as she flipped through the pages.
"You'd better hurry," he warned her. "Here comes Ginger."
A big burly man with a shock of red, curly hair approached their table. He was the owner, the chef and most nights he served as a waiter too. An ex-boxer who loved to cook, he enjoyed surprising new customers with his unexpected gourmet dishes.
"What can I get you folks tonight?" he asked gruffly.
"You ready, Mac?" Harm asked.
"Go ahead. I'll order last." Mac's eyes never left the menu as she scanned her choices.
Harm ordered the sweet potato tamales, and then he and Ginger both turned to Mac expectantly.
"I'll have the—the—no wait a minute—the—I'll try the—maybe I should have the—"
The two men exchanged knowing looks.
"Chili cheeseburger?" Ginger growled helpfully.
Defeated, Mac looked up at him. "Yes, please. You're not mad are you? I know I promised to try something different this time."
He just laughed. "That's okay, Mac. My chili cheeseburgers are hard to resist."
"Thanks, Ginger." She smiled at him, and the big guy grinned like he'd won the lottery.
Harm waited until they were alone then said teasingly. "We go through this every week. Next time, I'm not going to let you anywhere near a menu."
"Well, I always intend to try something new. Old habits are hard to break." She met his gaze, and he thought he saw some secret undecipherable message in her eyes.
Neither of them had mentioned their conversation from this afternoon. He didn't know how he managed to keep acting as if nothing had happened. Everything he'd believed about his relationship with Mac had blown up in his face, and yet here he was, sitting across from her like he did almost every Friday night.
After she had walked out of his office he'd sat in his chair not moving, trying to remember the exact moment when it had all gone wrong. After twenty minutes of staring into space he hadn't come up with a single answer and had finally dragged himself home. He was going to have to rethink everything now and pray that he still had a chance to win her heart. The only thing that remained unchanged, the only constant he could cling too, was that he loved her.
One thing she'd said kept echoing over and over in his head. When she'd said he was her friend, and he wanted her to be happy, that had been the truth. But it occurred to him that it was also the source of most of the problems they'd had throughout the years. How often in the past had he deferred to the happiness she might find somewhere else because it was safer than risking his heart?
The idea that his choices might have been more cowardly than noble startled him. That was a hard truth to swallow, but one he needed to face.
He also needed to face the fact that he obviously didn't understand Mac as well as he thought he did. Some clue, some crucial key to her happiness seemed to be eluding him, floating just beyond his reach. The whole time she had been talking this afternoon he'd had the feeling that there was something he wasn't hearing. All he had heard was that she was going to start seeing other men. He had been deaf, dumb and blind to everything after that.
Maybe he should just quit making assumptions and pay closer attention. If he really listened to Mac, he was beginning to suspect he might learn something important.
"So, Mac, what kind of man are you looking for anyway?" He figured he might as well dive right into the deep end.
She seemed uncomfortable with the question. "I don't have a check list, Harm. I thought you already knew what I needed anyway."
"We can compare and contrast later. Besides I'm always trying to improve my understanding of the female mind." He paused as a young woman brought their food to the table. After she left, he continued, "Humor me, okay?"
"Well, my mother used to say that I should look for three things in a man."
He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Your mother gave you advice about men?"
"Oh, she had a lot to say about men! She told me to find a man that was smart because a dumb man would bore me to tears, funny because laughter can get you through the tough times, and kind because there is no substitute for a genuinely caring man."
"What about tall, dark and handsome?" he asked curiously.
"Tall, dark and handsome will get you through a few lonely nights," she agreed with a grin.
He raised an eyebrow at her implication.
"But long term, looks and charm aren't that important. I want a man that can hold my interest fifty years from now." She took a bite of her cheeseburger and nearly moaned with pleasure.
"Maybe I should just set you up with Ginger," he said with a grin. "I'm sure he'd be willing to feed you chili cheeseburgers for the next fifty years."
"Very funny. But it's you're turn now. What kind of man do you think I need?" She seemed more than casually interested in what he would say.
"Well, lets see, Mac—" He pretended to be mulling it over, but in truth, he didn't have to think about his answer. He'd spent a lot of time lately trying to figure out how to be what he thought she needed. "You need a man that can be strong when you need him to be, but one that isn't threatened when you need to stand on your own. You need a man that can embrace the smart lawyer and the tough marine as easily as he embraces the beautiful woman. And you need a man who's not looking for a trophy but a partner--someone to share his life with."
Mac didn't say anything. She just studied his face and then said quietly, "That's a tall order for a poor guy who just wants to take me out for dinner and a movie."
"Believe me, Mac, when a guy looks at you he's not just interested in dinner and a movie."
"Well, if you can find one of the tall, dark and handsome ones I might be interested in more, too." She waggled her eyebrows and then giggled at his shocked expression.
"Finish your food," he said, suddenly feeling grumpy. "You know how much Sturgis hates it when we're late for the game."
As she dove back into her food, he tried to come up with a list of dumb, humorless, indifferent, short, pale, ugly men that he could introduce to Mac.
Harm walked into the kitchen where Sturgis was pouring potato chips into a bowl. He wandered over to the refrigerator and pulled out a diet drink. On the ride from the restaurant to Sturgis' apartment he had reassessed the situation and had decided he needed to find someone that he trusted to help him out with this nightmare.
Sturgis was the perfect candidate. He was still hung up on Bobbie, who was working on her reelection back in Detroit, so he didn't have to worry about Sturgis taking any romantic interest in Mac, and if he could enlist his help, then it would give him time to come up with some kind of plan. Right now he was just floundering around trying to keep his head above water.
"Hey, Sturgis, do you want to go on a date with Mac?"
Sturgis gave him an odd look. "Is this a trick question?"
"No. Why would you think that?"
"Because if I say no, you'll take it as an insult to Mac, and if I say yes, you might take a swing at me. I think it is in my best interest not to answer that question." He tore open a bag of pretzels and dumped them into a dish.
"I'm serious, Sturgis. I think you should ask her out." He was almost pleading.
Sturgis stopped what he was doing and turned to face Harm. "Okay. What's going on?"
"Nothing's going on. Mac has just decided to start dating again, and I agreed to help her find someone to go out with."
"Why in the world would you do that?" Sturgis looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "I thought the two of you were really starting to get close."
"I thought so too, but then she told me that she wants to start going out with other men. Obviously, to her I'm just a friend. Nothing more."
"She said that?" Sturgis looked through the kitchen door to where Mac was standing in the living room.
"Well, no. Not in those exact words. But it was pretty clear that that's how she feels."
Sturgis just shook his head. "This doesn't make any sense. And why would she need your help getting a date anyway? Have you looked at that woman lately?"
"It's a long story. Are you going to help me out or not?"
"No way! I don't know what's going on with you two, but it sounds like trouble, and I'm staying out of it." He picked up the bowls of snacks and paused at the kitchen door. "Just don't do anything dumb, okay buddy?"
Harm followed him, feeling even more out of sorts now that his latest plan had been shot down. To add to his bad mood the annoying sight of Mac laughing with Charlie and Joe greeted him as he came into the room. Charlie Morgan was Sturgis' next-door neighbor, a commercial artist who was always trying to get Mac to pose for his newest ad. Joe Soviak was an accountant and one of Sturgis' running buddies. He was married and had four daughters. Both were nice guys, and Mac was charming the socks off of them as usual. Normally, he found it amusing the way they competed for her attention.
But that was before. Before his place in the world had shifted so uncertainly. Before every man in the world had become a potential threat. He was starting to get worked up and was relieved when Sturgis called everyone to the table.
"Let's play cards!"
"Alright, gentlemen. Ante up and prepare to lose. Mama needs a new pair of shoes!" Mac said enthusiastically as she sat down.
"Would those be comfortable shoes?" Harm asked grimly, while Sturgis shuffled then dealt the first hand.
"No, I think I'm tired of comfortable shoes. I 'm going for dancing shoes this time," she said with a laugh.
"Great," muttered Harm under his breath.
"What'd you say, Harm?" Charlie asked.
"Oh, Harm just doesn’t want me to have any fun," Mac said trying to tease him.
Harm rolled his eyes and studied the cards in his hand.
Charlie and Joe both listened to the exchange then looked at Sturgis questioningly. He just shrugged and said, "How many cards, Joe?"
"Two for me," he answered.
"Mac?"
"I'll take two," she said with a quizzical look at Harm.
Charlie asked for three cards.
"Two cards," Harm said, and then asked Mac, "So now I'm supposed to find someone you can dance with?"
"The dealer takes one." Sturgis said while risking a glance at Mac.
"I'll bet five dollars." Joe said as his eyes shifted from Harm to Mac then back to Harm.
"You don't have to find anyone for me, Harm." Mac gave him a hard stare, and then said sweetly to Joe, "I’ll see your five and raise you ten."
Charlie threw his money into the pot and asked, "You don’t like to dance, Harm?"
Harm ignored him and said, "I'll see that and raise you ten." Turning to Mac, he insisted, "I said I would help and I will. I just didn't know I'd be looking for Fred Astaire."
"I fold," Sturgis said while pinning Harm with a warning look.
"I'm out too," Joe said throwing his cards down on the table. Then he offered helpfully, "My wife made me take dance lesson—the tango and the foxtrot.”
"That's so sweet, Joe." Mac threw her money into the middle of the table. "I suppose you don't think anyone would want to take me dancing?" she accused Harm irritably.
"Uh oh. Sounds like a lover's quarrel," Charlie said with a smirk as he called the bet. "If he doesn't want to take you dancing, I will, Mac."
"Stay out of this, Charlie. And Mac," he said huffily, "I think you should do whatever you want to do. You will anyway." Harm laid down three Queens, which beat Mac's pair of Aces and Charlie's three eights. He raked his winnings into a pile in front of him, studiously ignoring Mac's glare, and arranging the chips into neat stacks as if his life depended on it.
The next few hours were tense as Mac ignored Harm, and he avoided looking at her. He also kept winning, which didn't seem to do anything to improve her mood. He knew he needed to apologize, and he felt bad about putting a damper on the poker game, but mainly her felt bad for upsetting Mac.
The game finally broke up, and they stood around talking before they got ready to leave. Joe and Sturgis were discussing a race they were training for. Charlie was telling Mac about an ad he was working on for a florist's national campaign. The concept was woman in a filmy, flowing gown lying in a field of flowers, and he was trying to sell her on the idea of being his model.
Harm walked over to them, and Charlie turned to him as he approached. "Hey, I'm trying to convince Mac to pose for me."
"Charlie, you're always trying to convince Mac to pose for you." She stood stiffly, obviously still upset with him.
"Well, what can I say? She's beautiful."
Harm looked at Mac and agreed. "You're right about that, Charlie. She is beautiful."
Mac dropped her gaze, and said to Charlie, "Stop it right now. I am not posing, and that's final."
"Well, all right, but you can't blame a guy for trying." He grinned, and then said before he walked off, "You know, Harm, you really should give in and take her dancing."
Harm waited until Charlie was gone, and then said quietly, "I'm sorry for acting like such a jerk."
"What happened, Harm?" She sounded genuinely hurt. "At the restaurant everything was fine, and then we get here, and you start acting like you're mad at me."
"I don't know, Mac. All of the sudden everything just hit me. It felt like you were moving on with your life and leaving me behind. That's no excuse though."
"Harm—" she started, but he interrupted her.
"Let me make it up to you, Mac. Let me take you out tomorrow night. We'll even go dancing if you want."
"You don't have to take me out. And you especially don't have to take me dancing."
"But I want to. Consider it a practice date—so you'll be ready when the real ones come along."
"A practice date, huh?" She laughed at the idea. "I don't know. That sounds kind of silly, but I don’t have any other plans for tomorrow night—"
He broke into a big grin. "All right, then. It's a date. Tomorrow night."
"Tomorrow night," she repeated suddenly lighthearted.
They stood in the middle of the room, grinning and staring at each other until Sturgis walked over. "Are you two okay?"
"Yeah, thanks." Harm looked embarrassed. "Sorry for all of the fuss earlier."
"I'm just sorry you won all my money." Sturgis said as he walked them to the front door.
"Well, don’t worry. He can spend it all on me tomorrow night when he takes me dancing."
Sturgis looked surprised, then pleased. "Well watch your step, Mac. He's no Fred Astaire."
Mac took Harm's arm as they walked out the door, "That's okay. I'll just wear some of my comfortable shoes."