Every Woman's Fantasy. Vicki Lewis Thompson

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 sister, Ashley, would be coming as Sam’s date. He didn’t think it was necessary to go into the transvestite story he’d cooked up, first of all because Sam might fail to see the humor in it, and secondly because he couldn’t imagine either Charlie or Ashley would bring up the subject. They’d just be extra nice to Sam, which wouldn’t hurt a thing.

      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