vicariously through you."
"Well, nothing ever happens to me, so if that's your plan, you'll die of boredom before too long."
"Nothing happens to you? Are you kidding me? You're young, sexy, and beautiful, and now, you're rich too. You just went out with one of the premier bachelors in the world, and I'm ready to hear salacious details—the juicier the better."
"It wasn't all that great," Faith claimed.
"Liar. I can see in your eyes that you're on fire for him. What's the problem? You chickened out?"
"Yes." Faith sighed and pulled up a chair, her elbows on the table. "I'm such a wuss."
"I know, honey," Grace commiserated.
"We were in the car, and I was sitting on his
lap—"
"Oh, this is getting good."
"—and I couldn't go through with it."
"But he wanted to?" Grace asked.
"Definitely."
"When you backed out, what was his reaction?"
"He was very polite. He's expecting me to call him today."
"Will you?"
"I don't know," Faith groaned.
She looked miserable, as if she'd had a root canal rather than a date with handsome, macho Lucas Merriweather.
She'd always been too serious and needed to lighten up. Despite how hard Grace had worked to persuade her to expand her horizons, she was too responsible, too dependable.
Grace had encouraged her dinner with Lucas merely to discover what might happen. Faith could use a little excitement, and Lucas was the exact type to give it to her. Luckily, he was his father's son in nearly every way, so he was terribly spoiled.
The more Faith pushed him away, the more adamant his seduction would become. She didn't have the fortitude to keep him at bay. She was too nice .
Lucas would wear her down, and once she relented, they'd both be happier for it. The trick was to convince her it was okay to have sex with him. She always overanalyzed every detail.
The doorbell rang, and they frowned, wondering who it could be.
Faith walked to the living room to find out. When she returned a few minutes later, she was holding a huge bouquet of pink roses and a small, gift-wrapped box.
"Who are they from?" Grace asked. "Do we need to guess, or do we already know?"
"We already know. What is he thinking?"
"He's simply advising you that he enjoyed himself last night."
"Well, so did I, but not enough that I'd send him presents first thing in the morning."
"He's a man; he's wired differently than you."
Faith passed the flowers to Grace, then pulled the card from the envelope.
"'Wear these for me'," Faith read, "'the next time we go out'. It's signed just with the letter L ."
"Open the box." Grace nodded to it.
Faith tore at the paper and lifted the lid to reveal a pair of diamond earrings. There was a diamond stud, then a short gold chain with a cluster of tinier diamonds at the bottom. They were chic and versatile and could be worn with a formal dinner dress or with jeans at a party.
"Very nice," Grace said.
"Diamond earrings?" Faith scowled. "He can't give me diamond earrings!"
"Why not?"
"I hardly know him."
"So?"
"I don't want such an extravagant gift."
"Is he supposed to be a mind reader?"
"Yes. I'm just…me, and he's Lucas Merriweather. Where would I wear diamonds?"
"Wherever you want."
"The man is insane," Faith huffed, "and I'm sending them back."
"You are not."
Grace took them out of the box and went to the mirror on the fridge. She held one by her ear and checked out how it looked.
"If you don't want them," Grace said, "I'll keep them."
"Keep what?"
Grace turned as Angela staggered in. She'd stayed over, having been too drunk to drive the previous evening. Her hair was a mess, her eyes red-rimmed. She lurched to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup.
"Lucas Merriweather," Grace explained, "gave Faith a pair of diamond earrings."
"Get out of town!"
"Seriously." Grace dangled them for Angela to see.
"That is so unfair," Angela grouched. "Why don't you want them, Faith?"
"I want them," Faith insisted. "I just don't want them to be from him."
"If you're not
"Well, nothing ever happens to me, so if that's your plan, you'll die of boredom before too long."
"Nothing happens to you? Are you kidding me? You're young, sexy, and beautiful, and now, you're rich too. You just went out with one of the premier bachelors in the world, and I'm ready to hear salacious details—the juicier the better."
"It wasn't all that great," Faith claimed.
"Liar. I can see in your eyes that you're on fire for him. What's the problem? You chickened out?"
"Yes." Faith sighed and pulled up a chair, her elbows on the table. "I'm such a wuss."
"I know, honey," Grace commiserated.
"We were in the car, and I was sitting on his
lap—"
"Oh, this is getting good."
"—and I couldn't go through with it."
"But he wanted to?" Grace asked.
"Definitely."
"When you backed out, what was his reaction?"
"He was very polite. He's expecting me to call him today."
"Will you?"
"I don't know," Faith groaned.
She looked miserable, as if she'd had a root canal rather than a date with handsome, macho Lucas Merriweather.
She'd always been too serious and needed to lighten up. Despite how hard Grace had worked to persuade her to expand her horizons, she was too responsible, too dependable.
Grace had encouraged her dinner with Lucas merely to discover what might happen. Faith could use a little excitement, and Lucas was the exact type to give it to her. Luckily, he was his father's son in nearly every way, so he was terribly spoiled.
The more Faith pushed him away, the more adamant his seduction would become. She didn't have the fortitude to keep him at bay. She was too nice .
Lucas would wear her down, and once she relented, they'd both be happier for it. The trick was to convince her it was okay to have sex with him. She always overanalyzed every detail.
The doorbell rang, and they frowned, wondering who it could be.
Faith walked to the living room to find out. When she returned a few minutes later, she was holding a huge bouquet of pink roses and a small, gift-wrapped box.
"Who are they from?" Grace asked. "Do we need to guess, or do we already know?"
"We already know. What is he thinking?"
"He's simply advising you that he enjoyed himself last night."
"Well, so did I, but not enough that I'd send him presents first thing in the morning."
"He's a man; he's wired differently than you."
Faith passed the flowers to Grace, then pulled the card from the envelope.
"'Wear these for me'," Faith read, "'the next time we go out'. It's signed just with the letter L ."
"Open the box." Grace nodded to it.
Faith tore at the paper and lifted the lid to reveal a pair of diamond earrings. There was a diamond stud, then a short gold chain with a cluster of tinier diamonds at the bottom. They were chic and versatile and could be worn with a formal dinner dress or with jeans at a party.
"Very nice," Grace said.
"Diamond earrings?" Faith scowled. "He can't give me diamond earrings!"
"Why not?"
"I hardly know him."
"So?"
"I don't want such an extravagant gift."
"Is he supposed to be a mind reader?"
"Yes. I'm just…me, and he's Lucas Merriweather. Where would I wear diamonds?"
"Wherever you want."
"The man is insane," Faith huffed, "and I'm sending them back."
"You are not."
Grace took them out of the box and went to the mirror on the fridge. She held one by her ear and checked out how it looked.
"If you don't want them," Grace said, "I'll keep them."
"Keep what?"
Grace turned as Angela staggered in. She'd stayed over, having been too drunk to drive the previous evening. Her hair was a mess, her eyes red-rimmed. She lurched to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup.
"Lucas Merriweather," Grace explained, "gave Faith a pair of diamond earrings."
"Get out of town!"
"Seriously." Grace dangled them for Angela to see.
"That is so unfair," Angela grouched. "Why don't you want them, Faith?"
"I want them," Faith insisted. "I just don't want them to be from him."
"If you're not
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