Rose seemed a mature and sensible man who would protect their only child and guide her into a proper level of society. The glamour had lasted, for Lauren, about two years. From then on, it had been a matter of living according to the standards her parents had trained her to accept.
Of course Lauren did not tell Mike the sordid details, or even very much at all about her marriage, but he seemed to be able to read between the lines. He sat back in the booth he had chosen for them, relaxed and plainly interested, supplying a quiet question occasionally and unobtrusively signaling the steward for a drink from time to time.
Lauren was startled to find herself beginning on a third piña colada. She looked quickly up into Mike’s face. He read her expression correctly and grinned.
“It’s only your third,” he excused her.
“Third! Ye gods, I never drink more than one.”
“What, never?” he quoted, singing the correct notes.
“No, never,” Lauren sang.
And then to finish the comic song from H.M.S. Pinafore , she and Mike chorused together, “Well, hardly ever!”
They shared a smile for their mutual addiction to Gilbert and Sullivan. “I would have bet you were a fan of the Savoyards,” Mike said. “How many times have you seen The Mikado ?”
“I’ll tell you when you tell me how many times you’ve seen The Pirates of Penzance ,” Lauren challenged.
“You’re not going to tell me you saw the original performance?” teased Mike. “Late 1870s, wasn’t it?”
Lauren slanted him a look from under her long eyelashes. “Yes. Don’t I wear my years well?”
“Wait till you get enough of them to boast about,” Mike teased. “You’re in the flowering time,” he said with a grin, “like, fresh as a daisy? Saucy as a buttercup?”
“Stop right there, buster,” Lauren advised, grinning back at him. “What about you? I’ve told you everything but my social security number! What do you do for a living?”
“I told you,” Mike said succinctly. “I’m a talent scout for some of the bigger chains. I’m one of the people you can expect an offer from, after your show—if it’s any good.”
Lauren laughed aloud at his cheek. It was surprising how truly vital and happy he made her feel. She could never recall experiencing this lift of spirits, this true happiness, with any man before. She thought about his challenge for a minute. “My show is better than what you saw today, and a lot different. But you’ll just have to wait, won’t you?” She got up from the comfortable banquette. “Now I’m going to gloat over my new collection. See you later.” She had to get away from him before she succumbed completely to his charm, that warm, vital maleness that was doing odd things to her senses.
“How about dinner tonight?” Mike had risen with her. He held out his hand to assist her from the booth. Did he know how attractive he was?
Lauren smiled, “Your restaurant or mine?”
He recognized her search for information. “I was thinking, in my suite. More private. I’ll call for you about eight.”
Lauren shook her head. “It’s the Maartens show tonight, and I want to see it. He’s British, based in New York. Best of both cultures. Chic and understated.”
“I still don’t want to see it.” Mike grinned. “Let’s eat afterward. I’ll pick you up outside the Royal Court Lounge after the show.”
He was walking with her away from the lounge, his arm at her back. She could feel the warmth of it through the silk of her jump suit. Why was she so reluctant to let him go? She’d never had such difficulty saying good-bye to any man.
He seemed to understand her reluctance, and to share it. “Once around the deck?” he suggested. “To walk off those piña coladas?”
She accepted the offer. As they strolled along near the rail, Mike asked with an apparent lack of interest, “Will you be seeing much of your little friend?”
“You mean my model Dani? The one who tried to mistake you
Of course Lauren did not tell Mike the sordid details, or even very much at all about her marriage, but he seemed to be able to read between the lines. He sat back in the booth he had chosen for them, relaxed and plainly interested, supplying a quiet question occasionally and unobtrusively signaling the steward for a drink from time to time.
Lauren was startled to find herself beginning on a third piña colada. She looked quickly up into Mike’s face. He read her expression correctly and grinned.
“It’s only your third,” he excused her.
“Third! Ye gods, I never drink more than one.”
“What, never?” he quoted, singing the correct notes.
“No, never,” Lauren sang.
And then to finish the comic song from H.M.S. Pinafore , she and Mike chorused together, “Well, hardly ever!”
They shared a smile for their mutual addiction to Gilbert and Sullivan. “I would have bet you were a fan of the Savoyards,” Mike said. “How many times have you seen The Mikado ?”
“I’ll tell you when you tell me how many times you’ve seen The Pirates of Penzance ,” Lauren challenged.
“You’re not going to tell me you saw the original performance?” teased Mike. “Late 1870s, wasn’t it?”
Lauren slanted him a look from under her long eyelashes. “Yes. Don’t I wear my years well?”
“Wait till you get enough of them to boast about,” Mike teased. “You’re in the flowering time,” he said with a grin, “like, fresh as a daisy? Saucy as a buttercup?”
“Stop right there, buster,” Lauren advised, grinning back at him. “What about you? I’ve told you everything but my social security number! What do you do for a living?”
“I told you,” Mike said succinctly. “I’m a talent scout for some of the bigger chains. I’m one of the people you can expect an offer from, after your show—if it’s any good.”
Lauren laughed aloud at his cheek. It was surprising how truly vital and happy he made her feel. She could never recall experiencing this lift of spirits, this true happiness, with any man before. She thought about his challenge for a minute. “My show is better than what you saw today, and a lot different. But you’ll just have to wait, won’t you?” She got up from the comfortable banquette. “Now I’m going to gloat over my new collection. See you later.” She had to get away from him before she succumbed completely to his charm, that warm, vital maleness that was doing odd things to her senses.
“How about dinner tonight?” Mike had risen with her. He held out his hand to assist her from the booth. Did he know how attractive he was?
Lauren smiled, “Your restaurant or mine?”
He recognized her search for information. “I was thinking, in my suite. More private. I’ll call for you about eight.”
Lauren shook her head. “It’s the Maartens show tonight, and I want to see it. He’s British, based in New York. Best of both cultures. Chic and understated.”
“I still don’t want to see it.” Mike grinned. “Let’s eat afterward. I’ll pick you up outside the Royal Court Lounge after the show.”
He was walking with her away from the lounge, his arm at her back. She could feel the warmth of it through the silk of her jump suit. Why was she so reluctant to let him go? She’d never had such difficulty saying good-bye to any man.
He seemed to understand her reluctance, and to share it. “Once around the deck?” he suggested. “To walk off those piña coladas?”
She accepted the offer. As they strolled along near the rail, Mike asked with an apparent lack of interest, “Will you be seeing much of your little friend?”
“You mean my model Dani? The one who tried to mistake you
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