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СКАЧАТЬ find some way to bring a fresh twist to the subject of dating. Strangers in the Night had been one of the first of its kind to study the effect of the sexual revolution on young singles. So many similar studies had followed that Claire couldn’t imagine finding anything new to add to the field. Something she tried to communicate to the board of directors at Penleigh, but they hadn’t wanted to listen.

      Which just made it all the harder to prove herself in the anthropology world, though not impossible. But first she had to find a place to stay.

      Maybe she should accept Samantha’s offer of the free hotel room, then move in with Petra when she returned from Bermuda. Unfortunately, Claire had no idea when that might be. Knowing Petra, it could be next week or next year.

      “What’s your name?”

      Claire blinked, then noticed both women looking at her. She’d completely lost track of the conversation. “Claire Dellafield. Why?”

      Samantha gestured to her. “Get with the program. We’re forming a rental coalition. You want in?”

      Claire rose off her suitcase, sensing her luck was about to change. “You mean we’d room together?”

      “Mental functions appear to be intact,” A.J. said. “You smoke?”

      Claire shook her head. “But I can learn.”

      Samantha laughed. “She’s in for the entertainment value alone.”

      Claire looked at both of them, realizing it would be the first time in her life she’d ever lived with women close to her own age. As much as she’d loved her father, she couldn’t help but feel that sometimes her life had been laid out like a map, with all the routes already chosen for her. Now she was charting new territory. It was both thrilling and terrifying.

      “How much can you contribute to rent?” A.J. asked.

      Claire did a quick calculation of her bank account. “Eight hundred.”

      “That’s forty-six hundred,” A.J. exhaled. “Surely the rent won’t go as high as that.”

      The door opened and the crowd turned in unison to see two men walk into the room.

      Several people cried out a name. “Tavish!”

      “Let’s play this out,” A.J. advised under her breath.

      Claire noticed several of the blondes adjusting their blouses as Tavish moved to the center of the room. He reminded her of a medicine man she’d seen once in Central America. He’d worn a putrid green robe, almost the same shade as Tavish McLain’s faux leather vest. They both shared the same cocky walk, too. As if they believed they controlled the universe. Or at least their own small portion of it.

      “Stand in front of me,” Samantha ordered, suddenly reaching around her back to unzip her skirt.

      Claire watched in disbelief as the woman shimmied her skirt down her legs. “What are you doing?”

      “I think I may have something that will persuade Mr. McLain to give us anything we want.”

      “What?” A.J. asked. “A gun?”

      “Even better,” Samantha replied, unwrapping the package in her arms, then pulling out a wad of silky black fabric. “A magic skirt.”

      Claire and A.J. exchanged skeptical glances. Then Claire cleared her throat. “Did you say a magic skirt?”

      “I know it sounds crazy.” Samantha shook out the wrinkles. “But it’s a man-magnet. The skirt apparently originated from the Caribbean, where there’s a special fibrous root that the native women spin into a thread. That thread runs through this skirt. Men will do anything for the woman who wears it.”

      “You’re kidding,” A.J. said, looking like Claire felt. Maybe Samantha wasn’t such a great choice for a roommate after all. Unless you were a mental patient at Bellevue. Samantha pulled on the black skirt. “Look, I don’t believe it, either, but it can’t hurt.” She handed her jacket to Claire, then smoothed the black skirt over her thighs.

      Claire had to admit it looked nice. The fabric had a very unusual sheen, but she certainly didn’t see anything magical about it.

      “Follow me, ladies,” Samantha said, then moved toward Tavish.

      A.J. looked at Claire, then shrugged. “What can it hurt?”

      “True,” Claire replied, as they walked behind Sam. “And if it doesn’t work, we can always resort to Plan B.”

      “What’s Plan B?” A.J. asked.

      “We hang Tavish out his window by the ankles until he agrees to sublet us his apartment.”

      A.J. smiled. “So it’s a win-win situation. If we drop him, another vacancy opens up.”

      But amazingly enough, the skirt did work. Claire watched in sheer disbelief as Tavish’s jaw sagged when he caught sight of Samantha. His gaze became slightly unfocused and he stared unblinking at the skirt. It was as if he’d been drugged.

      The next thing she knew, A.J. was handing over a check for two thousand dollars.

      Tavish smiled. “So you want to pay all the rent up front?” He stuck the check in his vest pocket. “The perfect tenant, wouldn’t you say, Roger?”

      “I’d say so.” The broker sidled closer to Samantha.

      Something didn’t add up. “But wait,” Claire interjected. “I thought that was just for…” A warning pinch on her arm cut her off in midsentence. “Ow!”

      “That should be tenants.” Samantha motined to A.J. and Claire. “My roommates.”

      Claire smiled tightly at the man as she rubbed her sore arm. There was no mistake. Tavish was giving them his apartment for the entire summer. For only two thousand dollars. Claire glanced down at the skirt Samantha wore, no longer a skeptic.

      While A.J. and Sam finalized the deal with the broker, Claire helped herd the disappointed bidders out of the apartment before Tavish had a chance to change his mind. Then she returned to the circle with her new roommates, Tavish and the broker just in time to hear the tail end of the conversation.

      “Cleo’s the poodle,” the broker said. “Lives in 6B. You’ll have to walk her. It’s part of Tavish’s arrangement with his neighbors.”

      “No problem,” A.J. said, quickly scribbling her signature beneath Samantha’s, then handing the pen to Claire.

      “I can’t believe you did it!” A.J. exclaimed to Sam after everyone had left. Then all three of them began to high-five each other.

      “That skirt did it,” Claire murmured to herself, enthralled by what she’d just seen. She’d traveled enough with her father to know several cultures believed certain objects and plants had aphrodisiac powers, but she’d never witnessed an actual demonstration before.

      She made a mental note to research the skirt on the Internet tonight. Perhaps she could find the country of origin. Then another thought hit her. СКАЧАТЬ