And The Winner--Weds!. Robin Wells

I am.”

      Frannie was relieved to see Jasmine saunter into the front foyer, wearing a striking black pantsuit. Frannie seized on the opportunity to change the subject. “Jasmine, you look great.”

      “Thanks. What’s going on?”

      Summer pointed at Frannie. “A wonderful specimen of manhood just walked in here, and our cuz wouldn’t even talk to him.”

      “I didn’t have anything to say!” Frannie protested.

      “You don’t have to say anything, Frannie,” Summer said. “You just have to talk.”

      “Oh. Thanks for the clarification,” Frannie said dryly.

      Jasmine laughed. “You know what she means, Frannie. Make small talk. Be pleasant. Show you’re accessible.”

      “Let him know you’re interested,” Summer added. “Smile. Flirt.”

      “That’s easy for you two to say. I don’t know how to do any of that.”

      “Well, then, it’s high time you learned. Jasmine and I can teach you.”

      Jasmine nodded vigorously.

      “Oh, no.” Frannie held up her hands, palms out. “No way. No, thanks.”

      Jasmine’s flawless forehead creased in a frown. “Why not?”

      “Because it wouldn’t work. Besides, I’d feel like an idiot.”

      “No, you wouldn’t. Not for long, anyway.” Jasmine circled the front desk and stopped in front of Frannie, her hands on her hips. “Think about it, Frannie. Isn’t it better to feel a little silly for a little while than to feel lonely forever?”

      Lonely forever—was that what they thought she was destined to be? A sharp little knife of pain sliced into Frannie’s heart. “There are worse things than being lonely,” she mumbled.

      Such as being humiliated. And heart broken. And feeling like a pathetic fool.

      Summer’s dark eyes filled with sympathy. “Just because you had a bad experience with one guy in college is no reason to shy away from all other men for the rest of your life.”

      It wasn’t just a bad experience, Frannie thought, it was an amputation of part of her soul. Joe had not only betrayed her; he’d emotionally maimed her. He’d stripped her of her self-confidence and her ability to trust anyone.

      Frannie pushed back her chair and rose, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m not shying away. I’m just minding my own business, living my own life.”

      “Frannie, you’re practically a recluse,” Jasmine said softly.

      “I’m not!”

      “Yes, you are,” Summer affirmed. “You never go to any parties or social events. You go to work at the bank, then you come home and work here. And if an attractive man happens to come within a mile of you, you duck your head and avoid making eye contact.”

      “And then there’s the matter of how you dress,” Jasmine added gently. “You’re hiding all of your best qualities. You have a great figure, but no one would ever know it under the clothes you wear. You have beautiful eyes, but instead of wearing your contact lenses, you hide behind your glasses. I’d love to have thick, curly hair like yours, but instead of making the most of it, you keep it skinned back in a ponytail or a tight little bun.”

      Frannie was surprised to find herself blinking back tears. “Sorry I’m such an embarrassment to you.”

      “Oh, Frannie, that’s not what we’re saying!” Jasmine stepped forward and embraced her in a hug. “We love you and want you to have all the good things in life, that’s all.”

      “That’s right. We want you to be happy.” Summer placed a hand on Frannie’s back and gave her a consoling pat. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just trying to jar a little sense into you, that’s all.”

      Frannie sniffed and wiped her eyes, then pulled away. Summer gave her another pat on the back, then pulled herself onto one edge of the computer work station. “I don’t think you realize it, Frannie, but when it comes to men, you’re your own worst enemy. You’ll never meet anyone if you don’t stop hiding.”

      “I’m not deliberately hiding. I’m just…I don’t know. Being self-protective, maybe.” Frannie turned away and stared at the large stone fireplace in the living room across the foyer. She took a ragged breath. “If I had one-tenth of the good looks you two have, things would be different. But I don’t. I don’t want to set myself up for rejection again, that’s all.”

      “You’ve got everything we’ve got,” Summer said.

      “And in some places, more.” Jasmine looked down at her own petite chest in such an amusingly wistful way that Frannie had to smile.

      “I’m plain as mud,” Frannie said bluntly.

      “You’re not!” Summer said. “You just need a little polishing up.”

      “That’s right.” Jasmine nodded. “And attitude.”

      Frannie gave a tight smile. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of that.”

      “Boy, do you ever!” Jasmine grinned. “But that’s not the kind of attitude I mean. You need to project more self-assurance.”

      “Jasmine’s right,” Summer said. “Your outlook and expectations become a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you think you’re unattractive and don’t expect anyone to approach you, you’re going to act in ways that will make men keep their distance. But if you act confident and look your best and expect men to be attracted to you, that’s exactly what will happen.”

      Frannie wished she could believe them. Some thing about that race car driver had stirred up longings she’d all but forgotten she could feel. She heaved a sigh. “You make it sound so easy. Too bad it isn’t.”

      “Well, how about giving us a chance to prove that it is?”

      If she had any sense, she’d say no right away. But the memory of Austin’s touch was too fresh on her mind. “What have you got in mind?” Frannie asked.

      Summer grinned. “I just thought of the perfect occasion to prove to you that a makeover of your appearance and attitude can make over your love life.”

      “And what might that be?” Frannie asked skeptically.

      “Yeah, what is it?” Jasmine asked.

      Summer paused dramatically. “The Whitehorn Ball. It’s the hospital’s big annual fund-raiser, and all of the staff is expected to be there. There’s this new doctor in radiology. He’s single, he doesn’t know anyone in town and he doesn’t have a date.”

      Panic welled up in Frannie’s chest. “Oh, no. Not a blind date.”

      Summer raised her hand in a calming gesture. “Just hear me out. The dance is three weeks away. That’s plenty of time for Jasmine and me to make you over and give you some pointers.”

      “Oh, Summer, I don’t think this is a good idea….” Frannie began.

      “It’s not a good idea. It’s a great one,” Jasmine said excitedly. She clasped her hands together. “We could triple date.”

      “But—”

      “But what?”

      “But it’s a formal dance,” Frannie protested.

      “So? That makes it all the more fun. We’ll turn you into Cinderella for the ball.”

      “But—” Frannie swallowed around a lump in her throat. “But I was supposed to go to a formal dance with Joe the night after…after…”

      “After you found out what a heel he was,” Summer finished for her.