Every Woman's Fantasy. Vicki Lewis Thompson

seem like he was really getting married. Of course, he never really had gotten married. But this time would be different. He could feel it.

      “You sure look perky all of a sudden,” Sam said.

      “Why wouldn’t I? I’m going to meet the woman of my dreams.”

      Gazing at him over the top of his beer bottle, Sam cleared his throat. “Mark, old buddy, one of your more endearing traits is your eternal optimism. But I want you to entertain the possibility that Charlie is not the one.”

      “But she is.”

      “I hope so, but the truth is we might have to put another ad in Texas Men and troll for more prospects. Because I’m not—I repeat, not—going through this again until I’m convinced that you won’t back out at the last minute.”

      “I’m telling you, I won’t back out. Charlie’s the real deal.”

      “That remains to be seen. Go ahead and set up the weekend, but remember that there will be no getting horizontal with your darling Charlie if I have anything to say about it. You need to get to know her really well before that happens.”

      “But I do know her!”

      “Only what she tells you in the letters, pal.” Sam sipped his beer. “Only what she tells you in the letters.”

      2

      A WEEK LATER, Charlie tried not to hyperventilate as she stood in front of the three-way mirror in Ashley’s shop. The plunging neckline of the red dress nearly reached her belly button. If she had the nerve to buy this dress, it would go perfectly with some red high-heeled sandals she’d seen in a store window down the street.

      She’d never owned anything like this dress in her life, but it fit the image she was trying to project for Saturday night’s date with Mark. The longer she wore the dress, the more she believed in her seductive powers.

      “Way too daring,” Ashley said.

      “No, I think this might be the one.” Charlie turned this way and that to see if she looked sufficiently sexy. “But I wish it had a slit up the side.”

      “It used to.” Ashley pulled a blue dress off the rack. “When I saw you eyeing that one the other day, I stitched it up. There’s such a thing as over-exposed. Even so, that dress is cut way lower than I thought. Try this one instead.” She held out the blue dress.

      Charlie glanced at it. “Nope. It has sleeves.”

      “Try it.” Ashley shoved the dress closer. “It matches your eyes.”

      “Who cares? All my life I’ve been wearing blue because it matches my eyes. And you know what that dress is? Boring. I will never get Mark to drool if I wear that. I’ll look like Alice in Wonderland. I might as well tie a blue bow in my hair.”

      “You wear that red number and he’ll drool, all right. I’m worried about what will happen after the drooling part.”

      Charlie turned to face her sister. “Okay, let’s get to the bottom of this. Why are you so paranoid about the possibility that Mark and I will have sex on the first date?”

      Ashley avoided her gaze and hung the blue dress on the circular rack. “Because I’m your older sister, and older sisters are supposed to keep their little sisters away from the Big Bad Wolf. At least on the first date.”

      “That’s weak and you know it. What’s the deal here?”

      Ashley rummaged through the rack some more, but finally she turned, her cheeks rosy. “Remember Jason Danville?”

      Charlie searched her memory. “Was he the guy who drove the Jaguar?”

      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