And certainly not with a man she cared as much about as Gage. “We don’t see relationships the same. Look at how we reacted to our parents’ divorces.” Gage thought his parents quit too soon, while she accepted her folks’ breakup without complaint. Relationships were dynamic systems that could fly apart. Especially for people like Sugar and her parents. It happened. No sense torturing yourself, your spouse or your family over it.
“That’s different,” Gage said. “Completely.”
“I’m not built like you, Gage.” People like Gage knew how to make love work. And when their relationships faltered, Spice It Up got them back on track. She loved being part of that effort. Somehow, that made up for her own lack. Not lack, exactly, but she did get an empty feeling from time to time.
Which she didn’t appreciate being reminded of.
Gage was looking at her with so much hope, she panicked. “I need change, Gage. New furniture, for God’s sake.” That was lame, but she was flipping out, almost getting sucked into Gage’s fantasy.
“We’re talking about couches now?”
“It’s just a symbol. I need variety. You want sameness. You’ve had those shoes since Clinton’s second term.”
“Hey, I had them resoled.” He studied them briefly, then looked at her. “What’s wrong with sticking with quality?”
“Nothing. It’s just not me. I’m cheap, disposable fashion. You’re solid, classic traditions.”
“This is you and me, Sugar, not Better Homes & Gardens. Pretend I didn’t blurt what I blurted. Try this—Hey, Sugar, how about we see what develops? Better?” He gave that self-mocking smile she loved so much.
“Not much, no.” The truth was out. And the fact that he’d behaved so out of character told her how big his feelings were. Shutting him down felt criminal, but what choice did she have? Her stomach joined her head in the churning washer.
“Let it sink in,” Gage said.
But there was no point and too much at stake. She had to sort this out. What would Gage do? That was her mantra when she got emotionally overwrought. Gage was so rational, so sensible. When he wasn’t around to argue her through something, she imagined what he’d say. Now she was using him against himself. But it couldn’t be helped.
“Let’s think this through,” she said. “Why is this happening now? You just broke up with Adrienne, right? So you’re lonely. You and I spend a lot of time together. We’re close friends. Plus, it’s a big birthday for both of us. Thirty-five is time to turn the corner. I know I’ve been thinking about shaking things up. But not…” She hesitated. “Not like that.”
“Shaking things up?” He frowned. “Like how?”
“By doing something different with the resort. I planned to talk to you about it at dinner, but—”
“No, no. Go on. Tell me now.” He folded his arms.
“Maybe later. When we get back home.”
“Let’s have it,” he said wearily. “What are you cooking up, Sugar?”
They needed a change of subject, that was certain. “Promise you’ll hear me out before you start arguing?”
“Go on.”
He hadn’t promised, but she went ahead anyway. “Okay…You know how we’ve been overbooked during busy months?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s revenue just disappearing. There’s growing interest in sex resorts. That’s obvious from this conference. Think of all the travel reviews we’ve had lately. The buzz is that we’ve got a gold mine on our hands. If we don’t get ahead of the curve, we’ll lose out.”
“What are you proposing?” He spoke slowly, considering the idea. Thank goodness. His analytical side had kicked in.
She felt safe to babble on. “At first, I thought we could buy a second location, but that’s capital-intensive and we’d be spread thin staff-wise. Then I read a big trade journal piece on hospitality franchises. The consultants in the article were based in San Diego, so I called them.”
“Franchising?” He lifted his eyes to hers. “You want to franchise Spice It Up?”
“Franchising is the way to go. I was talking to a guy earlier about it. Plus, it’s a cash cow, Gage, and—”
“And you met with consultants? Without talking to me first?”
She preferred Gage’s business bristle to the hurt from before. “It was just a preliminary discussion. No money changed hands. I wanted to tell you about it, share my other research and get your ideas about possible franchisees we could target. It’s all there.” She nodded at her briefcase on the table by the door, ready for her to carry to Gage’s room.
Back before she got dumped in a washer set on heavy-duty.
“A franchise is a package. Spice It Up is too unique to be packaged.” He shook his head. That’s that. A good sign. This was how all their debates started.
She barreled ahead. “I thought that, too, at first. Then I did some reading. There’s a book—Franchising For Dummies, can you believe that?—which has checklists and tips and screening tools. You have to check it out.” She nodded at her case again.
“What about us, Sugar?” His eyes bored into her.
Us sounded sooo good just then. Like a long hot bath with nothing in her mind but the pleasure of it. She sank into that feeling and into Gage’s eyes. She’d never noticed the swirls of caramel in their melted chocolate depths.
Stop it. Enough with the hot baths and candy eyes.
“The only us that counts is us as partners, Gage,” she said. “We got carried away. We have history and attraction. You’re lonely. I’m lonely, too, I guess. And that water bed…wow. Who could blame us?” She was trying to joke, but her throat hurt and she couldn’t make herself smile.
“You won’t even consider it?” He dug at her with his dark eyes. “You don’t feel—”
“We can’t.” She wasn’t sure how she felt, but she wouldn’t lead him on, so she shook her head. “Even if I did feel—Well, anyway, no. Just no.”
“Oh.” Gage released her hands, which fell back to her lap. She stared down at them. Without Gage holding them, they felt numb and empty. Hands were for holding.
Oh, stop. She was so not sentimental.
“Now what?” Gage asked softly, sadly.
She took a deep breath. “Now we do what we do best….” She faltered. “We’re partners. So we’ll debate the franchise idea until we agree and—”
“I can’t do that,” he said slowly. “I can’t go back.”
“What are you saying?”
“Or
