Plain Jane's Plan. Kara Lennox

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      “Wow.” She wandered from the living room into the bedroom, resisting the urge to kick off her shoes and run barefoot through the inch-thick carpet. “This place must be costing you a fortune,” she said. “Why don’t we split the bill?” Even split in two, the rate would be three times what she normally paid, but it wasn’t fair to make Jeff carry the whole burden, even if this engagement scheme was his idea.

      “I can afford it,” he said gruffly.

      The bellman arrived moments later with their bags. He set them both up on luggage racks in the bedroom. Allison looked at those matching suitcases, side by side, and thought how cozy they must appear to the bellman.

      Jeff tipped the man and sent him on his way. Then he wasted no time grabbing his suitcase and carrying it out into the living area. “You can have this room. I’ll sleep on the fold-out sofa.”

      “You mean there’s not a second bedroom?”

      “No, this is it.”

      “I don’t mind sleeping on the sofa. I’m smaller.” She was proud of the fact she could say that and mean it.

      “I’ll try it first,” he said. “But I probably won’t be able to commit to the sofa bed. I’ll find lumps, or it’ll sag in the middle—”

      “Jeff…”

      “And then I’ll want to toss it aside and go for the king-size bed. C’mon, you know it’s true.”

      “I was completely out of line with those comments, and I’m sorry.” She stood in the bedroom doorway, talking to his back as he hoisted his bag onto the sofa and unzipped it. “Truly, Jeff. Can you forget I said them?”

      He straightened, then slowly turned, a troubled frown marring his handsome face. “I’ll always forgive you, you know that. But I can’t forget. Is that how you actually see me? I had no idea.”

      “I was exaggerating. I was irritated because that beautiful woman threw herself at you, and you took it for granted. I was jealous.”

      “Jealous?” He stopped scowling at her.

      “Yeah. Because beautiful men never throw themselves at me. It hardly seems fair.” All right, so she was playing her sympathy ticket. Not very commendable, but if she could nudge Jeff out of his pique, she swore she would watch her tongue in the future. He might not see her “that way,” but he was her friend and he cared for her, which gave her the power to hurt him. She’d never realized that before.

      He finally smiled. “You’ll find your white knight someday, Allie.” Then he paused, looking thoughtful. “Do I really throw out perfectly good bananas?”

      “I saw you do it once. And the—” She censored herself.

      “The what?”

      “Nothing.”

      “What, Allison? Tell me, or I’ll tickle you.”

      Oh, no, not the tickle monster. He hadn’t done that to her since junior high, when the mere thought of his perfect hands on the rolls of fat around her middle had prompted her to capitulate immediately to the threat.

      Now, the idea of his hands on her ribs—no more rolls of fat—was unsettling for a different reason. Her hormones were already on red alert from the casual way he’d touched her in front of the hotel clerk. She couldn’t handle any more touching at the moment.

      She took an instinctive step backward. “I was going to say, ‘And the heels from bread.’ You throw those away, too.”

      “That has nothing to do with commitment. I never commit to the heels, even at the grocery store when I first put the bread in my basket. I always tell them up front, ‘I’m not eating you. You’re too tough.”’

      She laughed, relieved he was no longer angry. “The heels make good toast. It’s wasteful to toss them.”

      “I’ll save all my heels for you. Okay, Miss Conservation?”

      “Then you’ll have to toast them for me for breakfast.” Oh, stop it. She was flirting with him. What if he got completely turned off? What if he said, Allison, there’s no need to play the part of my lover when we’re alone. It weirds me out.

      But he didn’t say anything. In fact, he didn’t appear to even realize she’d dropped a provocative line.

      While Jeff unpacked, she ogled the blindingly white-tiled bathroom with its Jacuzzi tub. She heard him opening and closing drawers in the living room. She’d decided not to argue further about his choice of bed. After all, if things worked out as she hoped, they’d get to share the big bed.

      “We have just enough time to grab lunch before registration,” he said after they’d both hung up their clothes and stashed toiletries in the bathroom. “There’s a good sandwich place up the block.”

      Allison remembered the place. They served sandwiches as big as her head, along with piles of greasy potato chips and chocolate brownies to die for. Since she wouldn’t be bicycling during the convention, she couldn’t afford all those fat grams. “I think I’ll check out the health club instead.”

      He looked at her curiously. He was probably remembering the old Allison, who never turned down a meal and thought walking to the refrigerator was plenty of exercise. Then he shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll wait for you at registration.”

      He took off without much fanfare, and Allison slumped with disappointment. She’d been hoping Jeff would want to work out with her. There was no way he could fail to notice her newly sculpted body if she was wearing her skimpy new exercise clothes. Or maybe he could. Sometimes she thought she must be invisible to Jeff.

      Allison spent forty-five minutes on the exercise bike, another fifteen with free weights, then bought a strawberry-banana concoction and a cucumber sandwich at the juice bar. That would hold her to dinner. She showered, changed clothes, went to registration and signed up as a walk-in. She didn’t see Jeff anywhere. So much for his promise to behave like a devoted fiancé.

      Unfortunately, she did see Sherry. Or, more to the point, Sherry saw her. The buxom nurse, with her cloud of blond curls and black-lined eyes, marched up to Allison and hugged her as if they were long-lost friends.

      “Allison, right?”

      “Yes,” Allison said, straightening the jacket Sherry’s hug had knocked askew. “And you’re Sherry.”

      “You remembered! Of course, everybody remembers me. I seem to make an impression, for better or worse.” She gave Allison a once-over. “New…hair?”

      “New everything.”

      “You’re a friend of Jeff Hardison’s, right?” Sherry scanned the crowd, looking for her quarry.

      Uh-oh. Allison was either going to have to lie, or mess up Jeff’s carefully planned strategy. “Yes, we came together.” There. That wasn’t a lie, but it implied something more personal than “just friends.”

      “Well, wasn’t that nice of him to let you tag along,” Sherry said with an uncertain smile.

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