Page 3 of Secret Admirer
Destiny turned the screen back on and held up the tablet. “Guys like this? Or this guy you want in your head?”
“Both.”
“Yeah. Okay. If they exist at all…” Destiny sighed like she was about to read a fairy tale story to one of her first graders.
Rebecca pictured his impeccable manners as he kissed her hand, and never once would he call her by any other name.
Melissa tapped her cheek in thought. “Hmm. At some fancy art show, or a gala.”
Her dream burst. Rebecca picked up her fork, ready to dig into her meal and forget this conversation. “Don't you have to buy tickets for those? I don’t have that kind of cash to go dropping hundreds of dollars to go to parties. I’d go broke in a week.”
The three friends ate in contemplative silence. Rebecca's fantasies would now have a more defined look, and a name.
Melissa pushed her plate away. “Pretend you’re buying a yacht. Rich boys don’t rent their boats or have a monthly plan. They own their yacht.”
No one would take her as the yacht-buying type. Ever. Between her brightly dyed hair and oil-stained clothes, she couldn't pass as a millionaire. But she indulged the idea, just for fun. “So you’re saying I go to the dealer and pretend to be in the market for a yacht?”
Melissa's brow lifted and Rebecca felt her judgement as she assessed the blue sparkly sleeveless shirt and knee-length denim skirt that stretched across her muscular thighs. Her lips thinned. “Say it’s for your boss so they take you seriously.”
They all laughed. She ate her last bite of chicken and imagined somehow meeting Bart when he was there to buy a yacht. She squeezed her friend’s arm. “It wouldn't really work.”
"Not with that attitude," Destiny said. "I dare you to just walk the marina."
"What?" She thought about that--it didn't seem so hard. "Just walk?
Melissa’s brown eyes widened. “You’re going to do it?”
“What are the terms of the dare?”
“If you don’t go, you’re buying the beer for the next month.”
“And if I do it?”
Melissa gestured between her and Destiny. “We'll buy.”
“I’ll be ordering an extra one then. Since you’re paying.”
Destiny showed her the tablet again, this time with her dream guy standing on a ship. "If you're feeling brave, pretend to be in the market for an hour and see who comes along."
Maybe Mr. Picture Perfect with that sexy smile.
Go to a yacht dealer and pretend she was interested--she could do that, and then she’d have something to report next Friday night, and a month of free Friday night beer. “Yes. Why not? I need to change my life. I’m not happy with how things are right now.”
Destiny put her tablet back in her huge pocketbook that she always carried and teased, “You going to throw us out when you marry someone rich and famous?”
Yeah, right. She needed her friends, as they kept her sane. Rebecca fluffed her ponytail and pretended she was fancy when she said, “The two of you are going to have to step it up if you intend to visit me in my mansion, and drink champagne instead of beer.”
“That’s awful,” Melissa laughed.
Destiny looked stricken. Rebecca stopped laughing and said, “I’m joking. We’re best friends and I need you both. I'm just afraid that I will have less time to hang out with you two in the next few months.”
“Because of school?” Melissa asked, her eyes narrowed. “Personally, I’m looking forward to champagne dinners in your villa in Rome, with your dream guy--he will only want you to have sons and not a daughter.”
“He’ll never be like that, Melissa. Besides, even if I met this man, I wouldn’t be good enough.”
Melissa scoffed and shook her head. “You aremorethan good enough. How many weekends have you given up to fix a junker of a car for a family looking to get back on their feet?”
She liked giving back to her community, but he'd had a list of charities. “That doesn’t make me ready for a guy like this.” Rebecca pressed her knees together as she sat forward. “I’m nervous about the classes. I didn’t study that hard in high school, and I will need to…now that I’m paying out that much tuition.”
