Page 14 of More Than Pen Pals

“I don’t want to know.” I’m positive my brother will tell me anyway.

“Grouchy Smurf.”

I press my lips together and don’t give him the satisfaction of a response, but the nickname stings. Am I really that unpleasant to be around?

“You gonna go home and change before your date?” he asks.

“It’s not a date,” I say through gritted teeth.

He shrugs. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“You going to change?”

“Why would I?”

“You look better in your navy suit. It enhances those baby blues.”

My jaw drops. Randall doesn’t have a fashionable bone in his body.

“So says Colleen.” He grins at me. “Not about you, of course. But since we have the same color eyes, I’m sure it applies to you, too. And also, you need to get over the whole boy-girl mix-up. She was a kid. I doubt she’d make the same decision now.” He pushes himself out of his chair. “Enjoy your date.”

I glare at him.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he calls out in a sing-song voice as the door clicks shut behind him.

seven

“You’re going to dinner with me tonight,” Wendy declares as she waltzes into my office without knocking.

“But I ate lunch with you.” And all I want to do is go back to my studio apartment, drink a glass of wine—or three—and crawl into bed. I’m dying for a bubble bath, but as I only have a shower, that’s not going to happen.

“You don’t understand.” She throws her arms out. “I got a reservation atChez Patrice.”

My eyes widen. Wendy has talked about little else than Chez Patrice since I met her. I may be new to town, but even I know getting a reservation there is a coup. “How did you pull that off?”

She blows on her knuckles and then rubs them on her shoulder. “I’m good.”

“Don’t you want to take a man with you?” I hope she’ll say yes. Although I’d love to try the place out, tonight isn’t the best time.

“Nope. It’s you and me, babe. No arguments. Wear one of your fancy dresses. People get all decked out to go there.”

I only own one fancy dress, so it won’t be hard to choose.

“Pick one that accentuates the twins.” She points at my chest. “Those twins, not you and Sexy Shannon.”

My face turns red. “Why?”

“You never know who we might see there. Your future husband might be sitting at the next table.”

I roll my eyes but agree to go. “Want to share a cab?” I ask. Wendy lives near me, and Chez Patrice is at least fifteen blocks from us. It’s too far to walk in heels and a nice dress, especially after dark, and I’d prefer not to take the bus, but I’m not sure I want to spring for a taxi on my own. I’m positive the meal won’t be cheap.

“Can’t,” she says. “Sorry. I’ve got some errands to take care of between work and dinner. I keep a few nice outfits in my office for last-minute plans like this.”

* * *

“Aunt Star, before I tell you what happened, promise you won’t say you told me so,” I plead into the phone when I get home from work. “And don’t tell anyone else about this.”

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