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“Actually she joined me.”
“You had lunch with your secretary?” Rosie wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that.
“She’s not my secretary, she’s my assistant,” he explained, his back to her. “I left the office early because I wanted to get a table by the window. When Janice called with the news, I said it was a shame to let that table go. I was only joking when I suggested she come over since you couldn’t, but she took me up on it.”
“Oh.” Rosie was silent for a moment. “Did you have a nice lunch?” She’d eaten a candy bar out of a machine.
“It was all right,” he muttered and headed toward the bedroom for a shower, but she noticed he was whistling.
“I can meet you for lunch any day next week,” she called after him.
“Sorry, honey,” he said as he strolled past her. “I’m booked solid.”
Four
Having her nails done every other week was Maryellen’s one luxury. Although beautifully manicured fingernails were an extravagance, she couldn’t make herself give it up. Even more than that small pleasure, though, Maryellen enjoyed her friendship with the “girls” at Get Nailed. They were close to her age and single, but unlike Maryellen they wanted men in their lives.
Every second Wednesday morning, Maryellen listened while they bemoaned their fates. She was often amused by the crazy schemes they devised for meeting men. Frankly, she couldn’t understand why Rachel, her nail tech, hadn’t found a decent man. Maryellen considered her attractive and savvy.
The third Wednesday in October, Maryellen arrived for her appointment. Rachel was, as usual, ready for her. As soon as Maryellen was seated, Rachel doused a cotton swab in nail polish remover and reached for her hand.
“How’s it going?” Rachel asked.
“Great, how about you? Meet anyone last weekend?”
“I wish,” Rachel returned with a long sigh. “I’m not getting any younger.”
Maryellen knew that Rachel had made it her goal to find a husband by age thirty, and her birthday was only a few months away.
“I read something interesting this week,” Maryellen told her. “It’s about a town in Ireland named Lisdoon-varna. Every September and the first week of October, eligible men come to town looking for wives. Apparently it’s a tradition that’s been going on for years.”
“This is a joke, right?” Terri asked from across the room.
“No, I swear to you this is real.”
“Where do these women come from?” Rachel asked.
“All over the world. According to the article, a woman flew all the way from Australia to find a husband—and she did.”
“I can’t afford to go to Ireland,” Rachel muttered.
“No, but maybe we could hold our own festival,” Terri suggested.
“You could do that,” Maryellen said, wanting to encourage the other women. She didn’t want to get involved herself, but she did hope the crew of Get Nailed would do something with the idea.
“A Marriage Fest?” Terri’s voice picked up speed with her excitement.
“Yeah, but who’d come?” Rachel asked. “I can see it now. We’d make headlines ‘cause we’re throwing a party in order to meet potential husbands, and not one man would show up.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Terri said with a discouraged sigh.
“If I want to get out of a relationship, all I have to do is mention the word marriage and the man drops me like a hot potato.” Rachel frowned as she concentrated on Maryellen’s chipped thumbnail.
“You’re right about that,” Jane, another tech, added. “Men in America have got it too good.” There was a chorus of agreement.
“I’ve given up on Prince Charming. I’d be happy to meet the guy who grooms his horse,” Rachel said.
Maryellen smiled, and so did petite, blond Jane.
“Actually, forget about the guy grooming the horse,” Rachel went on, “I’d settle for a man who knows how to change the oil in my car.”
“I dated a guy like that once,” Terri told her. “Larry’s head was constantly under the hood of a car. He was far more interested in listening to an engine purr than me. It’s too bad because he was basically a nice guy.”
“Why’d you break up?”
“He got grease on my white silk blouse.”
“You broke up with a great guy because he ruined your blouse?”
Terri nodded. “What can I say? That blouse cost me seventy bucks, and Larry didn’t seem to think it was any big deal. The way I figure it, if a guy can’t appreciate a seventy-dollar blouse, then I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“I’d like to meet a man who has his head screwed on straight when it comes to money,” Jane said. “Everyone I’ve ever dated expects me to pick up the tab because they’re constantly broke.”
“I met this rich guy once, but he was dead boring,” Jeannie said, leaping into the conversation. “We dated for three months and I broke up with him because I had more fun washing my hair.”
“I’ll take a boring guy over a user any day of the week,” Jane informed her.
“What about you, Terri?” Maryellen asked. Terri, who dressed in bold, bright colors, was tall and big-boned, with soulful dark eyes. “What kind of man interests you?”
“I want a man who appreciates good food and isn’t afraid of a woman who likes to eat,” she said without hesitating. “I’m sick of men who want skinny women. I want a man to take me to a fancy restaurant and ask me to order an appetizer and suggest I save room for dessert. Better yet, I’d like a man who did the cooking himself.” She glanced around the shop. “Does anyone know someone like that?”
A sudden silence cut off the lively conversation. “Well, actually, I do know someone who cooks,” Maryellen said slowly, thinking of Jon Bowman. “Jon’s a chef at a truly wonderful restaurant.”
“Why’d you break up with him?” Rachel asked.
“We’ve never, uh, actually dated.” Nor would they, despite her curiosity. Maryellen loved Jon’s work and he intrigued her as a person, but her interest in him wasn’t romantic. No men in her life, no matter how attractive: that was her Number One rule. “I’d be willing to introduce you, Terri, if you wanted.”
“You would?” The other woman’s voice lifted with enthusiasm.
“So what do we do next?” Rachel СКАЧАТЬ