Every Woman's Fantasy. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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      Ashley nodded. “When he asked me out, I was the envy of every girl in my sorority. He was older, sophisticated, rich.”

      “And you went to bed with him on the first date,” Charlie guessed.

      “On the first and only date.” She sighed. “It was so humiliating that I never told anybody. Of course he probably told the world. It was so classic. We drank martinis and he convinced me that I was the girl he’d been waiting for all his life. Of course afterward he laughed and called me naive for believing that old line.”

      “Oh, Ashley.” Charlie walked over and gave her sister a hug. “But Mark’s not like that,” she said. “He would never—”

      “Maybe not.” Ashley held her by the shoulders. “But don’t forget I was there when Kevin Jasper turned you down for the Sadie Hawkins dance back in high school. The way you talk about Mark reminds me of the way you used to talk about Kevin. Come to think of it, you haven’t been this excited about a guy since Kevin.”

      Charlie had to admit that was true. Maybe she hadn’t liked being treated like a buddy by the men she’d gone out with, but she hadn’t cared enough to try and change the dynamics, either.

      “I know you, Charlie,” Ashley said. “When your dreams are smashed, you don’t recover so well. If Mark turned out to be a rat like Jason, I’d never forgive myself if I let you get hurt.”

      Charlie appreciated her sister’s concern, but she knew it wasn’t needed in this instance. Mark wasn’t going to hurt her. Still, she wasn’t above using an opening when it presented itself. “Okay, then like I asked you before, come with me Saturday night. You’ll be able to make a judgment about Mark, help protect me and meet a new guy, all at the same time.”

      Ashley smiled. “You can stop pushing for the double date. You don’t need protection if you drive yourself to the restaurant and drive yourself home, like we talked about, and don’t take any side trips in between.”

      “Maybe he’ll slip something in my drink.”

      “You don’t believe that any more than I do. He’s a stockbroker at the firm he claimed to be associated with—his letters of reference checked out. He won’t do anything weird. But that red dress sends a definite signal, and we don’t really know what this guy’s agenda is. This three months of letter writing could be a technique to get you in bed.”

      If Ashley wanted to believe that, Charlie didn’t care. It suited her purposes. “And you can keep me from getting carried away by the moment.”

      Ashley groaned. “Come on, Charlie. Wear a different dress and we don’t have to worry. Sure, I feel sorry for this Sam person, but I don’t think it’s my job to toddle along on your date with you and try to rehabilitate Mark’s friend.”

      “But, Ashley, can you imagine how traumatized he must be? Here he thought he was going out with a perfectly nice woman, and she turned out to be a man.”

      “I grant you that it might be difficult getting back into dating after something like that, but I—”

      “And he didn’t discover it until he started making love to her—I mean, him,” Charlie said. “What a shock! And now the poor guy won’t so much as go to dinner with a woman, let alone get sexually involved with someone. Doesn’t that pull at your heartstrings?”

      Ashley turned back to the rack and began sorting through it. “Well, sure. But he probably needs counseling, not a date with me.”

      “Mark said he won’t go to counseling, but he said if I could just find Sam a nice girl so that we could have a double date, then maybe he will start to trust again. You’re the perfect person to go with us Saturday night. Sherry and Dawn are both involved with someone, and I think Ellie’s too aggressive for something this delicate. Besides, I want you to go. I’d like you to meet Mark.”

      “And I will.” Ashley paused to look at a black dress, then rejected it and kept scooting dresses around the circular chrome bar. “But this double-date thing seems so contrived.”

      “Maybe, but Mark says it’s the only thing he can figure out. I think it’s sweet that he cares so much for his friend, don’t you?”

      “I suppose. Here, how about this one?” She took a white dress off the rack and held it up.

      “White? You want him to think I’m virginal?”

      “White can be very effective on blondes. I wish I could wear it.”

      Charlie rolled her eyes. “I don’t even want to hear about it, Miss Everybody-Thinks-I’m-a-Model. Every single outfit in this store looks good on you. So white isn’t your best color. Big deal. You’d still look glamorous, even in unflattering white. As for me, this red dress is the first thing I’ve ever tried on that didn’t make me look cute. I’m tired of guys wanting to pat me on the head.”

      “So you’re an ingenue type. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

      “But I want them to pat me somewhere else for a change!”

      “You can think about that on your second date.” Ashley returned the white dress to the rack and found a pink one. “In the meantime, this will—”

      “Ick! Pink. Barf-o-rama. Pink is exactly what I’m trying to get away from. Just once in my life, I want to knock a guy for a loop the first time he sees me. I don’t want him to think, Hey, I’ll bet she plays a good game of tennis. I want him to go, Hey, I want a little one-on-one with that hot babe.”

      Ashley folded the pink dress over her arm and gazed at Charlie. “Then that’s the dress.”

      “I thought so.”

      “But as your big sister, I can’t in good conscience let you go to a restaurant alone to meet some guy you’ve only written letters to. If something awful happened I’d feel responsible because I was the one who dolled you up like that.”

      “So you’ll go along and be Sam’s date?”

      “I will, but I’m only going to keep an eye on you in that dress. If my being there tricks Sam into finally having a ‘date,’ then I suppose I can live with that. Just so you and Mark don’t expect this foursome to be a regular thing.”

      “Oh, Ashley, you’re terrific! I knew I could count on you.” Charlie threw both arms around her sister in an enthusiastic hug.

      “I’m a sucker, that’s what.” Ashley’s resigned expression changed to a frown as she stepped back and looked at Charlie. “Rule Number One. No hugging in that dress.”

      “Why not?”

      “Take a look.”

      Charlie glanced down, and sure enough, one of her breasts had nearly sprung free of the plunging neckline. She grinned as she glanced at Ashley. “This is such a sexy dress.”

      Ashley gave her a stern look. “See that you keep it on.”

      AS MARK HANDED HIS CAR KEYS to the valet at the restaurant Saturday night, he was still trying to figure out how to tell Sam that Charlie’s СКАЧАТЬ