Every Woman's Fantasy. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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      He didn’t like telling untrue stories about Sam, but this meeting with Charlie was so important. If she started thinking he needed a handler to keep him on a tight leash, as if he were some sort of lust-crazed maniac, that could give a bad impression. Likewise, he’d need to think of something to tell Sam that would explain why Charlie’s sister was coming to dinner with them.

      They’d left Houston in plenty of time to check into a hotel not far from the restaurant and then made it to the restaurant several minutes early. He’d clue Sam in before the women showed up. He just needed to figure out what to say. A beer would help both of them, but that wouldn’t look so good, to be starting on the drinks before the women even arrived.

      “Seems like a nice place,” Sam commented as they walked toward a carpeted entryway covered with a green canopy. Flowers spilled out of stone planters and classical-looking nude statues stood sentry on either side of the glass doors. “But trust you to find the restaurant with naked women standing outside it.”

      “I had no idea,” Mark said.

      “Right.”

      “No, really. I got a recommendation from somebody at work.” Mark thanked the doorman as they walked into the restaurant.

      “In any case, Italian’s usually a safe choice for a first date,” Sam said. “Most people can find something to eat, even if they’re picky.”

      “Charlie’s not picky,” Mark headed for the tuxedo-clad maître d’. “But I wanted something romantic. They’re supposed to have a couple of strolling violinists and a flower girl who hands out long-stemmed roses to the women.”

      “That’s a nice touch.” Sam brushed a piece of lint from the lapel of his sport coat. “But I should warn you that just because a woman says she’s not picky doesn’t mean she’s not. I’ve heard that line a million times, and then you take them out for sushi and they refuse to eat it.”

      “Well, when Charlie says she’s not picky, I believe her.” Mark glanced through the arched doorway into the dining room and was satisfied with what he saw. High, narrow windows looked out on a garden setting with twinkling white lights strung on the greenery. Inside, candles flickered on linen-draped tables and the chairs were upholstered in a soft green material that looked like velvet.

      “And you told her I was coming, right?” Sam asked.

      “Sure did.” Mark listened for the violinists and, sure enough, he could hear them, but they were very soft. Good. Soft was better.

      “Did you tell her why I was coming?”

      Mark paused just short of the maître d’s station. Time for his fast shuffle routine. “What do you mean?”

      “I’m assuming that in all this letter writing you two have been doing, that you’ve mentioned your little problem with the five previous engagements.”

      “We haven’t gotten into that, specifically, but—”

      “You haven’t?” Sam’s jaw dropped. “Why wouldn’t you? Any woman who gets involved with you should know about that small matter, don’t you think?”

      Mark glanced around nervously. “Keep your voice down, okay? Let’s just get seated, and then we’ll talk about it.”

      “Oh, we’ll talk about it, all right. I have plenty to say on the subject.”

      Moments later they were ushered to a table for four in a secluded corner of the room.

      Mark chose a chair facing the doorway so he’d know the minute Charlie arrived. “I think you should sit across from me.”

      “I don’t. I think I should sit next to you so I can give you a swift kick under the table whenever necessary.” He started to take the chair on Mark’s right.

      Mark grabbed his arm. “No, you need to sit across from me. Charlie’s bringing her sister.”

      Sam looked at him in astonishment. “She’s doing what?”

      “Bringing her sister. The poor woman. She has this terrible problem. Whenever she’s attracted to a guy, she breaks out in a rash. But she seems to be getting better, and Charlie thought it was time to test her recovery. She thought it would be better if Ashley, that’s her name, started with a blind date.”

      Sam’s jaw tensed, but he moved to the seat opposite Mark. “I’m not here to be Charlie’s sister’s blind date.”

      “I realize that, but when Charlie heard you were coming, she naturally thought about Ashley and her problem.”

      Sam pulled his chair in and leaned his elbows on the table. “Okay, let’s get back to the original question. If Charlie doesn’t know I’m here to ride herd on you, why does she think I’m coming?”

      Mark shrugged. “As a friend, to meet the woman I’ve been raving about.”

      “Hmm.” Sam smoothed his mustache. He didn’t look particularly convinced. “There’s something fishy about all of this, O’Grady. And you can be sure I’ll find out what it is eventually.”

      Mark knew he wouldn’t be able to fool Sam for long, but he only needed to have his cooperation for the next few hours. “All right, maybe I thought it would be kind of cool if you and Charlie’s sister hit it off. One big happy family, right?”

      Sam continued to look skeptical. “But according to you, if Ashley and I hit it off, then she’ll break out in a rash.”

      “Maybe not. Maybe the hypnosis sessions are working. But don’t bring up the subject, okay? She’s very sensitive about it.”

      “Hmm,” Sam said again, his gaze speculative.

      “What?”

      “I’m thinking about some of the stunts you pulled in college. This dinner setup has the same feel to it. And I—” He paused as a waiter arrived to fill their water goblets. “And I still want to know why you haven’t told Charlie about all your prior engagements,” he said after the waiter left.

      “I’ll tell her. I promise I’ll tell her soon.” Mark kept glancing toward the door. Charlie had mentioned she’d be wearing red, and that the dress was cut low in the front, just for him. He loved knowing that. “I wanted to get this first meeting out of the way, so that she’d understand how sincere I am. If she found out about my five engagements before meeting me, it might color everything.”

      “It damn well should color everything. Then she’d know to take things slow and not go jumping into bed with you. You can’t handle it.”

      “But, Sam, we’ve been taking it slow. We’ve been writing letters for three months. That’s why this was such a great idea, the magazine thing and then the long correspondence. Now we know each other well enough to take our relationship to the next level.”

      Sam scowled across the table at him. “You’re not changing levels on my watch. This will be a zipless weekend, buddy.”

      Mark sighed.

      “It’s for СКАЧАТЬ