Marriage by Mistake

following their moonlit walk, Kelly stood and watched from her bedroom window as Dean drove off. He'd left early, before anyone could conceivably have come down to breakfast, before Kelly could conceivably have gone down to use the gym. And it was a Sunday, no less.
    In the dawn light, Kelly leaned against the window frame and rubbed her thumb against her lips as, through the paned glass of her bedroom window, she watched his Lexus disappear down the drive. But was he running ? Oh, it was too hard to believe that after last night and their nice walk, he would start playing that game again.
    Kelly shrugged and stepped away from the window. She decided to hang cool, wait and see.
    Mid-morning, Maggie came into the gym with a telephone. "For you," she told Kelly.
    Kelly stepped off the treadmill. It could be her chorus line friend, Valerie, on the phone, with the latest gossip, or her boss, Rudy, with yet another complaint about her replacement. So Kelly calmed the leap in her heart as she reached for the telephone. "Yes?" she asked, casual.
    Dean's voice on the other end sounded husky. "Would you like to have lunch?" He paused. "A real lunch, that is."
    Kelly's heart took another leap, but she forced her voice to remain casual. "Why, I'd love to."
    "Jackson will drive you into town." Dean made this clear. "He'll deliver you to the restaurant, say, around noon?"
    Kelly cleared her throat. "Noon will be fine."
    "I'll see you then."
    Kelly hung up the phone and handed it to Maggie. She waited for the housekeeper to leave and close the door behind her before throwing her arms into the air and dancing a jig. Those good vibrations hadn't steered her wrong.
    Dean had just asked her out.
    ~~~
    They had lunch. Kelly was delivered by Jackson to a posh little café on Beacon Hill, a small place with heavy-duty prices. Dean was waiting for her. He pulled out Kelly's seat for her. She got the first glass of wine. Their eyes met, fell away, met again. After clearing her throat, Kelly asked how his day was going. After clearing his throat, Dean wanted to know if she'd had much traffic coming into town. They both made some kind of an answer and afterwards simply sat at their chic little table and looked at each other.
    Kelly was delighted. The nerves meant they each cared about the impression they were making. This was like the start of a real relationship. Dean didn't seem too sure about the situation, true, but things were definitely moving in the right direction.
    She sat back and sipped her wine, enjoying herself immensely. Dean, on the other hand, was not nearly so serene. He kept frowning and looking down, as if afraid of holding Kelly's gaze for too long. But that was okay, Kelly thought. It was part of the whole beginning-of-things package.
    In time, their lunches came, were suitably gourmet, and were consumed. Dean paid, then rose to pull out Kelly's chair.
    As she stood, she looked over her shoulder at him. "Do you have to go right back to work?"
    He went very still. "No."
    "Good." Kelly smiled. "I know just what I want to do with you."
    ~~~
    She made him ride a swan boat. In all the years Dean had spent in the Boston area, growing up, going to college, and building his business, he'd never ridden one of the swan boats in the public garden.
    Kelly said it was a scandal. She made him purchase two tickets and they had to stand in line with the families on vacation and the European tourists. Dean felt silly. He'd imagined she was going to take him to the Parker House.
    Not that he should be making love to the woman. On the contrary, he'd asked her to lunch in order to call the whole farce to an end. He'd intended to explain to her, calmly, logically, over a bowl of lobster bisque, that the idea of any kind of real relationship between them was ridiculous. Especially if Kelly was imagining hearts and flowers. Dean didn't do hearts and flowers.
    But watching her over the peach linen tablecloth, Dean had been unable to find the right words. She'd looked so happy, so contented, sitting there in her off-the-rack sundress, drinking the expensive wine that he'd ordered out of guilt.
    And now, well, he should have been putting Kelly into a cab for a handkerchief-sopped ride home. Instead Dean was picking his way over the rickety floorboards of a flatboat along with a dozen other chumps, about to get transported around the pond by yet another chump, who pedaled from a seat that looked like a swan. Dean's grumbles faded, however, when he