Marriage by Mistake

smile dimmed. "But I haven't been able to get through to him."
    Troy's eyebrows jumped. "No!"
    Swiftly, Felicia commenced damage control. "Oh, I'm sure he's just fabulously busy, running that huge, multi-national corporation of his." She was smiling again, and twirling her tennis racket on her shoulder. "You know, the one in the building downtown with his name on it?"
    "Yeah, I know the one." Surely she wasn't trying to get his goat with that ? Troy wasn't jealous of Dean's big company. "Even if Dean is so busy in his big building, he still should have returned at least one of your half a dozen phone calls," Troy insisted.
    Felicia's twirling tennis racket halted. "I did not call him half a dozen times."
    "Only four or five then?" Troy laughed.
    Oh, he'd done it, then. Troy could practically see smoke streaming out of her nostrils. He might have enjoyed the sight more if it didn't stir him so, down below. He lowered his tennis racket and grasped it, two-handed, in front of himself.
    "On second thought," Felicia said, eyes blazing and voice more frosty than ever. "Perhaps it isn't Dean I should be speaking to about the fundraising job. Perhaps it is you."
    "Me?" Now, that came from left field. Troy's name and the word "job" were never linked together. "What are you talking about?"
    "You know..." Felicia's eyes were sparkling dangerously now. "You'd be perfect for it."
    "For a job?" Troy choked.
    "That's right." Felicia resumed twirling her tennis racket. "You have all the necessary skills, in abundance. You're outgoing and even charming, in a sleazy sort of way. You know all the right people and—" Her smile turned positively wicked. "And you have extensive experience in convincing people to part with their cash."
    Troy could feel his face redden. He didn't borrow money from his friends...very often. Needless to say, he'd never put the touch on Felicia. "Gee, thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass." Thank goodness that had come out just right. Casual and a little snotty.
    But she didn't seem to care. Still smiling malevolently, she shrugged and started to turn away, toward the women's part of the gym. Troy had the unhappy feeling she'd just won this match, or would, if he didn't manage to one-up her.
    "Oh, Felicia?" Troy called.
    Still smiling, she stopped.
    Troy smiled back at her. "Actually, it just occurred to me... I might have an idea why Dean hasn't managed to return any of your calls."
    Felicia raised a questioning, haughty eyebrow.
    Troy felt a surge of impending triumph. He'd been holding his ammunition, deeming it unsporting to discharge, but she'd asked for it. "See, the fact is it'd be kinda hard for Dean to call his former lady friends, even one so very close as yourself...since he just got married."
    Felicia's face froze. It simply went on pause; smile, haughtily arched eyebrow and all. The only thing that changed was its color as the blood seemed to drain from her skin. If Troy had hit her with his tennis racket, he couldn't have achieved the shock he now saw evident in her very attempt to disguise it. Clear proof, assuming he'd doubted, of how deeply Felicia was infatuated with Dean.
    "Married?" she finally asked. Troy could tell she'd meant to say the word in a normal tone, but it came out in a whisper.
    He sank his weight onto one hip, somehow hanging onto his smile though he wasn't feeling so triumphant any more. "Yeah, he got married about a week ago. Nice lady." Which was true, Troy told himself. Kelly was a nice lady, even if it was unlikely she was going to remain Dean's wife much longer.
    God, he hadn't had to tell Felicia this news. What had gotten into him?
    Meanwhile, Felicia was doing an admirable job of retrieving her self-possession. "A week ago," she said, and cleared her throat. From somewhere she produced a parlor-room smile. "Why, then, you must give him my congratulations. What a—ahem—Why, what a wonderful thing for him. Married!"
    Troy crushed his teeth together. He'd been a pig, as usual, and she was rising to the occasion, saying the right things, in the right way. "Yeah," he said, once he managed to pry his jaw apart. "I'll give him your message."
    With one last, utterly appropriate smile, Felicia turned and strode into the women's locker room. High class all the way.
    Troy swiveled to slash his racket at an innocent hedge. He hadn't intended to open his trap. What was it about the woman that brought out the absolute worst in him? He scowled at the hedge and wondered