laughed half-heartedly. "Oh, sure. By the way, how would you like to go to the symphony next week with Bill Dixon?"
"I thought you liked Bill. Why are you trying to palm him off on me?"
"Bill's a nice guy," Alva said indignantly. "I'm not trying to palm him off. But you both like fishing so I thought you'd click. He and I don't seem to have anything in common. He bores me to tears when he starts talking about millies and catawba trees."
"That's mollies and catawba worms. They come from catawba trees."
"Whatever. It's not my cup of tea. I still can't believe you like that stinky, smelly kind of thing."
Jennifer grinned. "You ought to try it. You might like it."
Alva snorted. "That will be the day when you catch me out in the hot sun putting some poor defenseless worm on a dirty hook. Personally, I think the animal rights people should look into this fishing thing."
"Alva, maybe if you don't like Bill's topic of conversation, you should change the subject."
"To what? I can't think of anything to say when I'm around him."
"You can't think of anything to say? Well, that's a first."
"I know. It's as if I look at him, and all I can think of is jumping his bones."
"Alva Hernandez! Let me get my diary out so I can record this day."
"Go ahead. Laugh, make jokes at my expense. Do you know how mortifying it is to stare dumbly at some guy while he's telling you about fish guts?"
Jennifer laughed. "I think he's just as intimidated by you. That's why he runs off at the mouth about fishing because he doesn't know what else to say. Last night was your second date with Bill. What did you talk about on your first date?"
"His dark blue BMW sports car that he was driving when I pulled up next to him at the stop sign. After that evening, I know everything about that damned car. Just ask me how many cubic centimeters the engine has. Or what kind of brakes and suspension system. Ask me anything. I know it all. Oh, Jen. I fell for him hard. Hook, line, and sinker." She sighed. "Listen to me. I've had two dates with the guy, and I'm talking fish talk too."
Jennifer looked at the clock and realized she needed to get off the phone. Matt would be here any minute.
"Well, if you won't take Bill off my hands, what do you suggest I do with him?" Alva asked.
"Gee, I don't know. That's your problem."
"Look, Jen, there has to be some benefit in having a psychologist for a friend. Seriously, what do I do with the guy?"
"Tell you what," Jennifer said, playing for time. "I'll mull it over and talk to you tomorrow about it. In the meantime, I want you to do a favor for me. Okay?"
"First tell me what it is."
"I want you to stop by at seven o'clock for dinner. The timing is extremely important. You must ring the doorbell at seven. Don't forget, or there'll be hell to pay."
"I won't forget, Jen. What's this all about?"
"I'll tell you some other time. Just be here at seven. Got to run now." Over Alva's squawking protests, she hung up. She should be able to have Matt Penrose on his knees by seven. Then with Alva's sudden appearance, she could boot Matt out the door before he decided he wanted to give her a practical demonstration of sexual freedom.
Hastily she looked around at the stage she had set. Everything was ready. She'd set the music where Ravel's Bolero would play endlessly in the background. She was wearing as slutty an outfit as she could put together, including black thigh-high stockings banded with lace. All she needed was for her victim to make his appearance.
Jennifer refused to listen to her conscience when it said she wasn't playing fair with Matt. She also turned a deaf ear to the little voice inside that suggested maybe she was going to such lengths because she wanted to be with Matt. Not to punish him. But to act upon the desire she felt for him. Truth be told, she found him even more appealing now than when she'd fallen in love with him in high school.
She straightened the books she'd stacked on the coffee table. A volume of
"I thought you liked Bill. Why are you trying to palm him off on me?"
"Bill's a nice guy," Alva said indignantly. "I'm not trying to palm him off. But you both like fishing so I thought you'd click. He and I don't seem to have anything in common. He bores me to tears when he starts talking about millies and catawba trees."
"That's mollies and catawba worms. They come from catawba trees."
"Whatever. It's not my cup of tea. I still can't believe you like that stinky, smelly kind of thing."
Jennifer grinned. "You ought to try it. You might like it."
Alva snorted. "That will be the day when you catch me out in the hot sun putting some poor defenseless worm on a dirty hook. Personally, I think the animal rights people should look into this fishing thing."
"Alva, maybe if you don't like Bill's topic of conversation, you should change the subject."
"To what? I can't think of anything to say when I'm around him."
"You can't think of anything to say? Well, that's a first."
"I know. It's as if I look at him, and all I can think of is jumping his bones."
"Alva Hernandez! Let me get my diary out so I can record this day."
"Go ahead. Laugh, make jokes at my expense. Do you know how mortifying it is to stare dumbly at some guy while he's telling you about fish guts?"
Jennifer laughed. "I think he's just as intimidated by you. That's why he runs off at the mouth about fishing because he doesn't know what else to say. Last night was your second date with Bill. What did you talk about on your first date?"
"His dark blue BMW sports car that he was driving when I pulled up next to him at the stop sign. After that evening, I know everything about that damned car. Just ask me how many cubic centimeters the engine has. Or what kind of brakes and suspension system. Ask me anything. I know it all. Oh, Jen. I fell for him hard. Hook, line, and sinker." She sighed. "Listen to me. I've had two dates with the guy, and I'm talking fish talk too."
Jennifer looked at the clock and realized she needed to get off the phone. Matt would be here any minute.
"Well, if you won't take Bill off my hands, what do you suggest I do with him?" Alva asked.
"Gee, I don't know. That's your problem."
"Look, Jen, there has to be some benefit in having a psychologist for a friend. Seriously, what do I do with the guy?"
"Tell you what," Jennifer said, playing for time. "I'll mull it over and talk to you tomorrow about it. In the meantime, I want you to do a favor for me. Okay?"
"First tell me what it is."
"I want you to stop by at seven o'clock for dinner. The timing is extremely important. You must ring the doorbell at seven. Don't forget, or there'll be hell to pay."
"I won't forget, Jen. What's this all about?"
"I'll tell you some other time. Just be here at seven. Got to run now." Over Alva's squawking protests, she hung up. She should be able to have Matt Penrose on his knees by seven. Then with Alva's sudden appearance, she could boot Matt out the door before he decided he wanted to give her a practical demonstration of sexual freedom.
Hastily she looked around at the stage she had set. Everything was ready. She'd set the music where Ravel's Bolero would play endlessly in the background. She was wearing as slutty an outfit as she could put together, including black thigh-high stockings banded with lace. All she needed was for her victim to make his appearance.
Jennifer refused to listen to her conscience when it said she wasn't playing fair with Matt. She also turned a deaf ear to the little voice inside that suggested maybe she was going to such lengths because she wanted to be with Matt. Not to punish him. But to act upon the desire she felt for him. Truth be told, she found him even more appealing now than when she'd fallen in love with him in high school.
She straightened the books she'd stacked on the coffee table. A volume of
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