blushed and Jerry laughed.
“I can see I’m butting in,” said Jerry.
I didn’t say anything, thinking he’d finally gotten the hint, but Tony opened his mouth to object. Quickly grabbing one of the stuffed mushrooms from Jerry’s plate, I stuffed it in Tony’s mouth. “Try this.”
Jerry yanked his plate behind his back and looked at me as if I’d stolen candy from a baby. “Well, um, nice to meet you.” He backed away toward a group of men standing near the string quartet.
“Do you like the stuffed mushroom?” I asked innocently.
Tony took the napkin from around his Coke and blotted his lips. “Very good.”
Now that I had him back to myself, I wasn’t sure what to say. And I could tell from the way he was looking at me that I’d better get to the point soon. Unfortunately, every word of my plan evaporated from my brain and I was unable to think of a conversational gambit. Surely I didn’t need to use Mandy’s emergency line, yet? So I asked the only other thing I could think of. “Are you single?”
“Divorced.”
“Me, too.”
He had really nice hazel eyes and I liked the way they seemed to glitter with interest, as if he really saw me, not just the hotel sous chef.
Two other salesmen came up and clapped him on the back, congratulating him for making number one. While they chatted about selling easels, I continued watching Tony. He seemed very nice, like someone I’d really enjoy spending one week out of four with.
Unfortunately, he seemed very popular. I began to feel a little desperate, as if I’d never get his attention again. But he must have been feeling the same way, because he said, “Excuse me. I need to ask Jill a question.”
He separated himself from the others, took my arm, and walked me toward a dark corner of the ballroom. I liked him more and more.
“Thanks for going along with me,” he said. “Those two guys are my chief competitors and they really get on my nerves.”
“My pleasure.” Now I truly was at a loss for what to say. I’d asked about his job, his marital status. What else was left but Mandy’s line?
It was definitely an emergency.
My forehead beaded with nervous perspiration. Could I say something like that? I appeared to be at risk of losing my best tuition candidate, so I opened my mouth to force the words from my mouth: If you play your cards right, I’ll let you be my love slave , but he spoke first.
“Say, I know this is fast, but would you consider having dinner with me some time?” he asked.
What a relief. I might talk a good game, but I don’t have the steel cojones needed to carry off a line like Mandy’s.
I smiled at Tony. This I could handle. I peeked up at him through my eyelashes. Maybe even a dimple or two. This I could do. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Survey Comments:
My husband’s job requires 40 percent travel. This means he’s actually gone 70 percent of the time.
Since he isn’t home often, when he arrives I want everything in place to make him feel happy and comfortable. I want “home” to be a place he longs to return to.
I’ve found that preparation is every bit as important as participation. I start three days before he’s due home. I do everything, from cooking ahead to cleaning beneath the refrigerator to bikini waxing. Once he walks in the door, I’m not distracted by household chores. This is the true secret to our successful and blissful relationship. My motto: Always Ready!
Good luck!
Pre-date rituals can be more important than the date itself.
Think about it.
You know how excited you get when you’re about to go out with a really cool guy? Your blood seems to rush more smoothly through your veins.
There’s a high-pitched buzz of excitement in your head, making you feel more clever, more attractive, more everything.
You’re happy.
Are those birds chirping in the trees?
Your heart seems to expand.
The entire world is painted in rosy hues.
Jokes are funnier. You
“I can see I’m butting in,” said Jerry.
I didn’t say anything, thinking he’d finally gotten the hint, but Tony opened his mouth to object. Quickly grabbing one of the stuffed mushrooms from Jerry’s plate, I stuffed it in Tony’s mouth. “Try this.”
Jerry yanked his plate behind his back and looked at me as if I’d stolen candy from a baby. “Well, um, nice to meet you.” He backed away toward a group of men standing near the string quartet.
“Do you like the stuffed mushroom?” I asked innocently.
Tony took the napkin from around his Coke and blotted his lips. “Very good.”
Now that I had him back to myself, I wasn’t sure what to say. And I could tell from the way he was looking at me that I’d better get to the point soon. Unfortunately, every word of my plan evaporated from my brain and I was unable to think of a conversational gambit. Surely I didn’t need to use Mandy’s emergency line, yet? So I asked the only other thing I could think of. “Are you single?”
“Divorced.”
“Me, too.”
He had really nice hazel eyes and I liked the way they seemed to glitter with interest, as if he really saw me, not just the hotel sous chef.
Two other salesmen came up and clapped him on the back, congratulating him for making number one. While they chatted about selling easels, I continued watching Tony. He seemed very nice, like someone I’d really enjoy spending one week out of four with.
Unfortunately, he seemed very popular. I began to feel a little desperate, as if I’d never get his attention again. But he must have been feeling the same way, because he said, “Excuse me. I need to ask Jill a question.”
He separated himself from the others, took my arm, and walked me toward a dark corner of the ballroom. I liked him more and more.
“Thanks for going along with me,” he said. “Those two guys are my chief competitors and they really get on my nerves.”
“My pleasure.” Now I truly was at a loss for what to say. I’d asked about his job, his marital status. What else was left but Mandy’s line?
It was definitely an emergency.
My forehead beaded with nervous perspiration. Could I say something like that? I appeared to be at risk of losing my best tuition candidate, so I opened my mouth to force the words from my mouth: If you play your cards right, I’ll let you be my love slave , but he spoke first.
“Say, I know this is fast, but would you consider having dinner with me some time?” he asked.
What a relief. I might talk a good game, but I don’t have the steel cojones needed to carry off a line like Mandy’s.
I smiled at Tony. This I could handle. I peeked up at him through my eyelashes. Maybe even a dimple or two. This I could do. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Survey Comments:
My husband’s job requires 40 percent travel. This means he’s actually gone 70 percent of the time.
Since he isn’t home often, when he arrives I want everything in place to make him feel happy and comfortable. I want “home” to be a place he longs to return to.
I’ve found that preparation is every bit as important as participation. I start three days before he’s due home. I do everything, from cooking ahead to cleaning beneath the refrigerator to bikini waxing. Once he walks in the door, I’m not distracted by household chores. This is the true secret to our successful and blissful relationship. My motto: Always Ready!
Good luck!
Pre-date rituals can be more important than the date itself.
Think about it.
You know how excited you get when you’re about to go out with a really cool guy? Your blood seems to rush more smoothly through your veins.
There’s a high-pitched buzz of excitement in your head, making you feel more clever, more attractive, more everything.
You’re happy.
Are those birds chirping in the trees?
Your heart seems to expand.
The entire world is painted in rosy hues.
Jokes are funnier. You
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