Every Woman's Fantasy

“They just have a sick sense of humor. The letters actually stand for Damn O’Grady’s Ass.”

“Oh.” Mark was relieved, but not a lot.

“I wouldn’t ignore the implication of those three letters if I were you. I’m sure they didn’t choose them at random. I think Deborah mentioned something about having T-shirts printed up.” Sam took a long swallow of his beer.

Mark followed suit. This subject was giving him the willies. He’d felt like a heel each time he’d called off an impending wedding, and he’d certainly wanted his prospective brides to seek comfort in whatever way they could. But he’d never imagined that they’d band together against him.

“I don’t think you can afford to screw up again, buddy,” Sam said. “It wouldn’t be good for your health.”

“Well, I’m not going to screw up. Your idea about using Texas Men to find a woman who’s really suited to me, and me to her, was a damned good one. Charlie and I have been writing back and forth for—what, three months now?”

“About that.”

Mark patted his shirt pocket. “I know her better than I ever knew any of the others—until it was too late, that is. I know she’s a morning person like me, but she needs her coffee. She’s not anal but she likes to keep her place picked up. She loved Survivor, hated Big Brother. Even her job is perfect for me—an outdoor adventure guide.”

“That is one of her good points, I agree. I’ve said that from the beginning. You kept dating these financial types you met at the office.”

“Right. I wasn’t working a big enough area. The magazine changed that, and now I have Charlie, who’s the exact right mix, sensible on the outside, but black lace and naughty thoughts underneath.”

“Hold it. How do you know about the black lace and naughty thoughts?”

Mark had a feeling he’d just revealed too much. In the past few weeks, the correspondence had heated up considerably. “Just a guess. Come to think of it, I probably read too much into her comments.”

“Like hell. Come on, Mark. What did she say?”

Time to backpedal, and fast. “Not much, really. I think she’s shy, actually. Probably would be slow to warm up.” He didn’t think that for a minute. From the tone of her most recent letters, she had an instant on switch. He could hardly wait to trip it.

“Uh-huh.” Sam’s expression was grim. “I get the picture. No wonder you’re so ready to meet her. Mr. Happy wants to meet her, too. That’s your other problem. You’re a washout at celibacy.”

He was, but he didn’t want to admit that he’d been dreaming about making love to Charlie McPherson for weeks. That would only confirm Sam’s opinion that he couldn’t go to Austin alone. “This isn’t only about sex. We like the same things. Not a single one of my fiancées wanted to go camping with me. Charlie would love to go camping.” And he could hardly wait to get her alone in a cozy tent.

“What’s this about camping? I thought you were going to ask her to dinner first.”

“Well, dinner, or…I don’t know. Camping would be nice.”

“It would be a disaster! I know you, and you would not stay in your own little pup tent. No. Camping is out. O-U-T, out.” Sam took a quick drink of his beer and glared at him.

Mark shrugged. “It was just an idea.”

“A bad idea. Some guys can handle getting physical early in the relationship without losing their perspective on the situation. Take me, for instance. I’ve never proposed to a woman after making love to her the first time. With you, it’s like an orgasm kills off half your brain cells. One night of nooky and you’re headed for the altar. It’s the damnedest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I admit I’ve made that mistake a few times.”

“No kidding.”

Mark sighed. “I’ve always moved too quick on this proposing business. I can see that now.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. Then you’ll let me go with you to Austin and make sure you don’t screw this one up.”

The very thought of dragging Sam along made Mark cringe. “Now, Sam, how’s that gonna look? No telling what she’ll think if I have to bring my best friend along when I go to meet her for the first time. She’ll think I don’t trust my own judgment, or I’m lacking in confidence. It’s the wrong way to start out.”

Sam shrugged. “Then do it your way. I’m sure Jack will agree to be your best man. Maybe I’ll tell him to bite the bullet and buy a tux. I’d be money ahead if I’d done that instead of renting one each time. And he can forget about writing a wedding toast. Talk about a waste. On the other hand, he should remember to bring a big box of tissues to the ceremony. No, make that two big boxes. One wasn’t enough for this last disaster, by the time I’d passed them out to Deborah, her four bridesmaids, her mother, her—”

“Okay, okay! So you’re going with me to Austin.” But how he’d manage to make a good impression on Charlie under such circumstances was beyond him. It would be a damned awkward visit.

Perhaps he could come up with a good cover story…

Sam smiled. “That’s more like it. You know, I could go for a hamburger. Want a hamburger?”

“Sure, why not?”

“I’ll go find our waitress.”

“Okay.” While he was gone Mark started brainstorming. He’d pulled a few excellent stunts in his college days. Like the time he and Sam had both wanted to date the same girl their senior year. Mark had gone in drag to the cafeteria and confided in this girl that Mark O’Grady had spent two years in China learning lovemaking secrets from the geishas. Sam never had a chance after that.

Hey, wait a minute. What if Sam needed a blind date when he went down to Austin? What if he was afraid to ask anybody out, because…because the woman he’d been dating had turned out to be a man. Perfect. So then Mark could ask Charlie to come up with a date for Sam, to get him back on track. While Sam was kept busy with her, Mark could get busy with Charlie. Brilliant.

Sam returned and slid into the booth. “I’m glad you came to your senses about taking me along to Austin.”

Mark smiled, feeling much better about the situation now. “I can’t have a wedding without you being my best man.” That was certainly true. If Sam wasn’t standing up at the altar with him, it wouldn’t 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 you?”

“I suppose. Here, how about this one?” She took a white dress off the rack and held it up.

“White? You want him to think I’m virginal?”

“White can be very effective on blondes. I wish I could wear it.”

Charlie 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 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 your own good. And hers.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right.” No matter how confident he felt this time, his record in such matters was lousy. And he didn’t want to hurt Charlie. She already meant so much to him. Of course, if she meant so much to him, then there was no way he’d hurt her, because he’d go through with the ceremony.

“Come on, pal. What’s one night compared to a whole lifetime?”

“Good point. Okay, I will not make love to Charlie this weekend. Maybe just a kiss or two. That wouldn’t cause a problem. Just—” His breath caught. There she was. Oh, damn, she was gorgeous. And so hot. The red dress hugged her curves and swooped down in front to show off the sweetest cleavage he’d ever been privileged to ogle. Damn. He couldn’t imagine how he’d keep his hands to himself, his zipper zipped. But he had to. He would. He would.

Their waiter was ready to escort her and a stunning brunette to the table, but Charlie spoke to him and the waiter paused.

Smart girl, Mark thought. She wanted to check out her date before the maître d’ brought her over. If Mark turned out to be the Hunchback of Notre Dame or The Wolfman, then she could still leave. His Charlie was no dummy.