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It's All Greek to Me

by Laura Hamby

Moonlit Romance Publishing

Rich, Arkansas

Contemporary Romance

To Jack ... Because you liked this one.

About Laura Hamby

It seems like I've been writing forever. My first attempt was the journal we were to write in every day when I was in 6th grade. Thus bitten by the Writing Bug, I've been writing ever since. I can't really remember a time that I didn't have a notebook and pen with me-back in the day before computer notebooks. I've yet to find the cure for the Writing Bug except to write, write, write. Four years ago, I decided it was time to pursue writing with a serious eye on the prize: publication.

I live on the East Coast of the USA with my wonderfully supportive hubby, three sons, and a black cat. We enjoy taking in the history of the area and taking road trips as a family (sans cat). The men in my life love fishing season, which gives me loads of time to write on the weekends.

It's All Greek to Me

Published by Moonlit Romance Publishing, Rich, Arkansas, USA

All characters and circumstances are the invention of the author. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental.

Moonlit Romance Publishing is a small publisher of quality romance novels, novellas and short stories. Visit us at moonlitromance.com

Resistance is futile when faced with a living, breathing Greek god...

CHAPTER ONE

Marianne Wilson looked up from grinding coffee beans to find herself staring at a familiar stranger. A damned fine familiar stranger.

The breadth of his shoulders under his raincoat robbed her of her ability to breathe. Shoulders that wide must be felonious. Shouldn't a person be required to carry a permit for such a divine build? She sucked in a deep breath to help calm her palpitating heart.

"Good morning. He wasn't one of her regular customers, so she didn't know why she recognized him. She wondered if his butt was as nice as his shoulders.

"Good morning, Marianne."

He knew her name. Ill at ease, she reached under the counter to put her finger on a button that would buzz the police station if need be, which would bring the city's finest charging into Java on the Go within minutes. She decided to ignore the vague tingly sensation of recognition. It didn't matter if he was built like her idea of an Olympic Greek god. If he turned out to be a lunatic, she would press the button faster than she could say baklava .

"May I help you?"

"What do you recommend? He leaned against his elbow on the counter.

"I like Colombian dark roast myself. The specials are on the board. I also have iced mocha and iced vanilla lattes. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder and tried not to look at his hands. His long sculpted fingers could drive a woman crazy. She needed to get hold of herself. Five years without sex, and she almost had herself convinced she didn't miss certain aspects of it at all. One Adonis walks in and suddenly she's all weak in the knees? What was up with that?

"You don't remember me, do you? He smiled. The grin illuminated his entire face. Classic Greek good looks took on the glow of a supernova. "I'll try your dark roast special."

"Should I remember you? Marianne's hands shook when she filled a paper cup with coffee, then fitted a lid over the top. She could smell his light musky after-shave. Her toes curled at the sight of his smile and she wondered when her knees had morphed into liquid gelatin. They sure felt rubbery right about now.

"It's been a while."

"If you say so. Would you like anything else? She admired the way she spoke with a steady voice while so close to this excellent specimen of manhood made her feel such unwelcome stirrings.

"Not even curious, are you?"

"Should I be? I have a lot on my mind. Yeah, like remembering that sex is not fun. Highly overrated. The thought he could charm the moon from the sky with just a smile and a wink of those gorgeous dark-mocha colored eyes ... Stop ! This man had Untouchable written all over him.

"Like our mothers’ attempt to match-make us?"

Marianne gasped as all the air in the room seemed to be sucked away.

"Nick? Nick Galanapolous? Marianne looked at the tall man in astonishment. Dark brown hair cut in a fashionable style emphasized a strong freshly shaven face that already showed a shadow. His raincoat was belted around his waist, and she knew enough about clothing to identify top of the line designer wear when she saw it.

Last time she'd seen him, she'd been twelve. In the almost twenty years since she'd last seen him, he'd ... grown. Yep. That seemed the safest description for the Red Hot Alert who now wreaked havoc on her equilibrium.

"In the flesh. Nick made a small bow. He took his wallet out of an interior pocket of his suit. "I thought we needed to have a talk, you and I, about our mothers."

"Yours already sprung it on you? Oh goody. A neutral subject. Concentrating on her mother was a surefire way to douse the flaming case of lust that expanded outward from her bellybutton. Irritation. The best antidote for sexual arousal. All she had to do was picture herself living her mother's life and bingo! Desire died a horrific death.

"The trap is to be sprung Saturday evening. Nick said.

"There's been a time change. It's Sunday now. I couldn't make Saturday, which would mess up all their careful plans. Just her luck. The one person on the face of the earth she couldn't consider a date with stood before her, tempting her. Not that he tempted her, of course.

Nick leaned forward on the counter and balanced on his forearms. "I'll be honest with you, Marianne. I'm not interested in their scheme at all. It has nothing to do with you."

"I can't say as I am either. Liar liar pants on fire ! Oh boy, did they ever burn. "But I know my mother, and I know she's in love with this idea. I'd be surprised if she hasn't named the grandchildren already. We need to nip this in the bud as soon as possible. Like before she found herself inserted in her worst nightmare: a marriage just like Mom and Dad's.

Nick nodded. "Good. I'm glad we're of one mind on this subject. Are you bringing a date to this supper?"

"Now that you mention it, I will. I like the devious way you think. Swoon. Good looks and a brain. What a combination. Marianne beamed her approval of his suggestion.

Nick pushed himself away from the counter. He placed a ten dollar bill near her elbow. "I hope this covers the coffee. Nice to see you again."

"Coffee's on the house. She handed the crisp bill back to him.

"Thanks. The ten disappeared in his hand and a traffic-stopping smile appeared on his face. "I'll see you and your date on Sunday."

"Likewise. Marianne managed to return a wobbly smile of her own. Apollo on a cracker ! Nick didn't just have dimples. He had dimples . Moments later she was left alone in her shop, craning her head to watch him walk away. Phew. The temperature had risen a good one thousand and seventy-five degrees in the last ten minutes. She fanned her hot face with her hand.

Perhaps the Fates smiled on her after all. A sexy man like that would expect to be intimate with any woman he dated. What better way to assure Mr. Sexy Bod wouldn't entice her than for her mother to approve of him? She couldn't claim to be a shrinking violet, but she preferred a nice beta male to date. Okay. She preferred men who were beyond beta. The type she called omega . Doormats. No alpha males for her, no way. Alpha males controlled, dominated and demanded lots of sex. She had enough experience to know she didn't like sex. Not one bit. Not even enough to be remotely tantalized by Mr. Hunk-a-Hunk-a-Nick Galanapolous, despite the traitorous reaction her body had to his mere presence.

"I'm not interested, I'm not interested, I'm not interested, she muttered to herself, hoping if she repeated it enough, she'd start believing it. And soon.

* * * *

Nick hugged the brick wall. He stayed under the eaves while he opened his black umbrella. The deluge tapered to a drizzle, but with a two-block walk to his office, he'd be soaked by the time he arrived. Two blocks. Close enough to walk; plenty of time to contemplate Marianne Wilson.

Damn, but he hadn't expected Marianne to grow up into such a beautiful woman. He remembered an awkward kid whose mother dressed her in cutesy clothing. All those flounces, frills, and ruffles in every shade of pink imaginable - on a girl who didn't look good in pink. Every time she'd opened her mouth to say something, her mother would reinterpret what she'd said. He'd felt sorry for pre-teen Marianne then.

Now, there was nothing about the woman that screamed I need sympathy. Her dark curly hair spilled behind her shoulders and her healthy curvy body brought him up short. When her green-flecked hazel eyes danced a tango at his proposal to bring a date, he'd responded to her on the most elemental of levels. His instant attraction to her unnerved him. He'd been down the fixed-up-with-a-so-called-nice-girl road before, fresh out of law school - with disastrous results.

Marianne, a gorgeous package to be sure, obviously possessed a brain. He steered a wide path around intelligent women. Thank you, but no. Between his disastrous almost-wedded relationship and his career as a divorce attorney, Nick knew a serious, matrimonial-headed relationship was the last thing he wanted. Or needed. He couldn't make a commitment when he saw for himself on a daily basis just how disposable an inconvenient marriage could be.

* * * *

"Ready for a heavy dose of maternal disapproval? Marianne joked half-heartedly. Funny how her escort, Ernie McKenny, reminded her of a ferret, but he met her current criteria for boyfriends. His yes, dear personality suited her just fine.

The front door flung open to reveal Marianne's mother, Madge Wilson. She wore a Hawaiian print muumuu.

Marianne closed her eyes against the assault of the bright colors that radiated from the atrocious outfit. When she opened them again, she saw her mother's tight-lipped glower of disappointment, with a side of disapproval..

"Mom, you remember Ernie McKenny, don't you?"

"Nice to see you again, Ernie. Madge's forced smile belied her words. "You're late. But I expect that of you, dear."

"Sorry. I had a flat out on the freeway on my way home. Took some time to get the lug nuts loose, Marianne explained.

"Perhaps you should give up driving altogether, dear. If there's an accident, you're either in it or behind it. And that car of yours always has one problem or another when you take long trips. Your father would be more than happy to purchase a sturdy, reliable car for you. Madge stepped back. Marianne and Ernie entered.

"When I can afford a new car, I'll buy one. I'm perfectly capable of picking a good vehicle, Marianne snapped. Blood pounded through her forehead. Migraines, with love from Madge . In fact, Marianne held her mother responsible for every headache she'd ever had in her thirty years.

"Sure you can. That's why you drive a lemon now. The Galanapolouses are here, but Nick hasn't arrived yet. Everyone is on the patio out back. Would you care for a drink, Ernie?"

"Cocktails? he asked.

"Yes. There are hors d'oeurves outside as well, Madge opened the sliding glass door that led to the patio.

"A light gin and tonic, please."

Madge nodded. "Marianne?"

"Just a soda, Mom. Caffeinated."

Four large trees surrounded the patio and shaded the area from the mid-afternoon sun. Grapevines entwined through the trellis overhead. Marianne wished she'd brought her umbrella to shield against falling grapes. Three people occupied the padded ironwork patio chairs. The men arose.

"You made it, Frank Wilson beamed. He held a hand out to her. Marianne hugged her father then turned to the other couple.

Chloris Galanapolous had also risen, her forehead crinkled in obvious consternation. Her short blunt-cut blonde hair framed her thin face, making a striking contrast between her hair color and her tanned skin. As Marianne remembered, Mrs. Galanapolous favored chic, well-cut clothes that oozed style.

Marianne said, "Nice to see you both again. This is Ernie McKenny."

After muted greetings, everyone except the two older women sat. Chloris and Madge disappeared into the house. Marianne grinned, thinking to herself about the urgent conversation taking place inside between the two meddling mamas. The men talked sports, so she didn't participate in the conversation. Despite San Francisco's local franchise, Marianne didn't understand the fascination caused by over-paid grown men who played dog pile with a piece of pigskin. The statistics of the game alone numbed her mind.

The mamas returned with trays of drinks and hors d'oeurves. Marianne accepted a tall glass filled with more ice than cola. The doorbell rang and her mother left to answer it. The gaudy muumuu billowed behind her as Madge all but ran to the entry.

Nick Galanapolous and a tall, leggy blond followed Madge through the sliding glass door. The look on her mother's face about sent Marianne into gales of uncontrollable giggles. Chloris blanched.

"Look who's here! Madge's voice sounded strangled.

The men arose again. "Nick brought Desiree ... Hunter? She's an actress, Madge announced. "Nick, you remember Marianne, don't you?"

If Nick answered, Marianne missed it, for her attention Left on the goofy expression of abject adoration Ernie wore. Marianne went to his side to draw him back onto the porch swing. The thunderstruck look on his face discomfited her.

"Are you alright? she hissed at him, annoyed.

"Huh? Oh, yes. Sorry. She's beautiful, don't you think? She looks like a china doll."

"I wouldn't know, Ernie, Marianne answered coolly. "I don't make a practice of noticing other women in that way."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed several times in a row. Disgusted, Marianne whispered, "You're here with me, remember me? Marianne?"

Ernie's glazed eyes widened. "Huh?"

" Zeus’ thunderbolts, she muttered. Well, perhaps all wasn't lost. The mamas wore identical looks of stunned disbelief.

Nick caught Marianne's eye, and they shared a long moment of mutual amusement. When his eyes flickered his dismissal of Ernie, Marianne glanced away. Ernie may not be an impressive man, but he was a lot of fun. And easy to manipulate. Omega to the core.

Ernie. His mouth hung open as he stared in rapture at Nick's date. She'd never seen him do this cat-in-heat impression before. As the bimbo blathered, Ernie reacted like the woman recited Shakespeare. Backwards.

"I'm so into palm reading. I looked at Nick's mother's hand, and wondered why Nick is an only child. According to her palm, she should have had four children, Desiree chattered.

Airhead. Must be time for a refill. Marianne dug her elbow into Ernie's middle. His ga-ga routine bothered her. Desiree couldn't be that fascinating. Could she?

"Any predictions on the advent of grandchildren? Marianne asked. She took a long drink of her cola while she ignored the murderous glare her mother directed at her.

"Oh, I'm not that advanced with my palmistry."

Nick laughed. "She hints she needs a few."

"My mother hears my biological clock ticking the time away. Marianne quirked an eyebrow just so.

"Marianne, Madge said in a crisp tone. "I'm sure no one wants the details of our arguments."

"Why not? Nick's a lawyer. He argues for money. Marianne stood. She intended to raid the hors d'oeuvres tray. Her mother moved to intercept her.

"Come help me in the kitchen, dear, Madge requested, steel threaded through her words.

Marianne managed to grab a bacon-wrapped scallop as her mother dragged her with admirable determination into the house. In the kitchen, Madge crossed to the stove, lifted the lid off the dutch oven and stirred up the contents.

"Just what do you think you're doing? You think I wouldn't be able to tell you're up to something? I can't say I'm happy with your behavior."

"My behavior? How about your not-so-subtle attempt to match-make? Your interference in my life must stop. I'm perfectly happy with Ernie."

Madge turned to stare, her mouth opened in a shocked circle. "Ernie won't make you happy, honey. There's more to marriage than just the vows."

"Who said I was interested in marrying Ernie?"

"Sooner or later, you'll become curious about sex. Her mother blushed as she averted her gaze.

Marianne snorted. "I've already been curious about sex."

"Of course you have. It's natural. But you'll want to experience it, dear, not just read about it."

"I have experienced sex, Mother. Marianne watched her mother turn white, red, followed by white again.

"That's not funny, Marianne! Sex is for married people! I know I taught you that. A vein popped out on the side of Madge's neck and throbbed a frantic tempo.

Marianne recognized the famous vein. It signified her mother had swung into full-blown Madge Mode . She steeled herself, determined to weather the upcoming storm with a minimal amount of teeth grinding.

And the hits just keep coming...

CHAPTER TWO

"No, it's not very funny. I lost my virginity in the backseat of a town car. Can't say as I'd recommend that experience."

Madge moved toward her, arms outstretched. "Why didn't you tell me? My poor baaaa-beeee . Tears coursed down her face. "Now I understand. You're afraid of sex. That's why you don't want to get married."

"No, I'm not afraid of sex. I just don't like it very much."

"You can't know that. Madge hugged her.

"I do know that. I had another lover, Marianne confessed.

Madge's eyes bulged, Marianne's revelation obviously rocked her mother's world.

Her mother needed a fast forward into the twenty-first century. Marianne knew from long experience how old-fashioned her mother could be in her attitudes and beliefs. She figured that her mother had grown up in the 1950's, and had liked that decade so much, she got stuck. Just like a needle skipping on a vinyl record album.

"We'll talk about this later. We have company, Madge replied, her back stiff. Marianne's meddling mama obviously didn't want to confront such a blatant contradiction to her traditional beliefs. The older woman had always handled news she didn't want to hear by burying her head in the sand.

Marianne nodded. Fine. She didn't care to discuss it either. "I'll go back outside. How long until dinner?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Everything alright, honey? her father asked when Marianne rejoined the group outside.

"Twenty minutes until dinner, Marianne said by way of answer. She noticed Ernie sat next to the leggy actress. They talked with a great deal of animation. Ernie didn't even notice her return. She fumed and cast a quizzical eye towards her traitorous date and the bimbo. Their heads were very close together now, in total absorption of each other. Nick didn't appear bothered by his date's interest in another man. Or did he? His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed.

Marianne pursed her lips together. She glared at her oblivious former boyfriend. Just as soon as he dropped her home this evening, she'd read him the entire riot act and break up with him. His un-omega-like behavior was inexcusable. Why, if he and the bimbo got any closer, everyone would be very embarrassed.

"If you'll excuse us, Ernie said. He couldn't meet Marianne's furious eyes. Desiree all but stood on Ernie's feet. "We'd like to get to know each other better over an intimate dinner for two."

Nick rose to his feet. "What?"

"Huh? Marianne snapped at the same time. Dumbfounded, she flashed a meaningful glare at her date when he made reluctant eye contact with her.

"Desiree and I find we have a lot in common, Ernie began apologetically. "Marianne, we just don't have any similar interests."

"Yeah. It's been great, Nick, but I'm ready for new pastures, Desiree added. "You're a drag. The awesome sex isn't worth it anymore."

"Sorry we can't stay. Ernie moved to leave. Two dumbfounded mamas blocked his path. "Mrs. Wilson, thank you so much for your hospitality. Good-night. We'll let ourselves out."

"But how am I supposed to get home? Marianne queried the empty air. The couple had already left.

"Well, I never! Chloris exclaimed, hands on hips.

"Dinner, Madge announced.

* * * *

Perfect. Just perfect. Ernie fled with the bimbo. Had Marianne not been so annoyed, she'd have laughed as the meddling mamas tripped over themselves maneuvering Nick into offering her a ride home, and fussing Marianne into acceptance.

"Nick lives in the city. You're right on his way home. Madge beamed.

"How is that possible when you live closer to San Francisco than I do? Marianne retorted. "I live half an hour in the opposite direction."

Madge's ear-to-ear grin dimmed. Marianne bit back a Hah! of vindication.

"Traffic isn't so bad at night. The freeway should be clear, Chloris answered. "You wouldn't mind, would you, sweetheart? Giving Marianne a ride home?"

"It would sure help. If I didn't need to run errands tomorrow, I'd lend Marianne my car, Madge added, her lips pursed in what could only be fake consternation.

"I'll just call Andi."

"Oh, don't do that. She might be busy. Madge shook her head. "We wouldn't want to impose."

"We? What we? Marianne muttered.

Nick piped in at this point, "Gee, I don't know whether to feel like a tug-of-war rope or useless, like ti..."

"Behave yourself! Chloris waved a hand at him to interrupt him before he could finish his thought.

Marianne wished he'd been allowed to finish. She'd have had more time to find a rock solid way out of accepting a ride from him.

"You know, Marianne, Madge began, "Nick just bought a new car. You need a new one. You could see how his handles."

Marianne snapped her eyes shut. I don't need that image. I don't need that image. I don't need to think about Nick and handles. I don't need...

"Oh, for the love of God, Madge, quit pestering them. They're adults. They don't need their mommy's maneuvering them together."

This came from Marianne's Dad. "Thank you, Dad, she said. "It's not a big deal. Andi can come get me."

Ten minutes later, she slumped in the front seat of Nick's car.

"Still grumbling? Nick slid in beside her and started the car. "Just smile and wave at them. And not that one fingered wave, either."

"This is ridiculous. Even you have to admit it, Marianne replied. She crossed her arms and legs. "They look so pleased with themselves."

"Arguing with those two women is like arguing with a three-year-old. You'll never win."

Marianne fumed, careful to keep it to herself. She didn't want Nick to think she was a spoiled child. "You're right. You'd think by now I'd have learned that."

Nick's chuckle filled the car for a moment before they subsided into silence.

"So, what are you going to do now that your bimb ... girlfriend has moved on? She couldn't take the deafening stillness in the car after a few miles passed.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm tired of the singles scene at the moment. It will be a relief to be a bachelor for a while. You?"

"Sounds good. I'll be a bachelor too, she quipped. "I had a word with mother this evening about this match-making thing."

"How did that go over?"

"Like bak without the lava , Marianne replied. "I'm here in your car, aren't I?"

"True enough."

The headlights of other cars sent eerie shadows chasing through the car; the occasional light emphasized Nick's profile. Marianne found herself fascinated by his appearance. His long straight nose, the firm line of his jaw, and his high forehead made him look like a mythical god. Marianne gave herself a mental shake to dispel the fanciful thoughts. Ernie had just walked out of her life. She didn't need another man to fill the tiny void.

Not that a void existed. She certainly didn't want to be attracted to a man like Nick Galanapolous. He had a strength of character about him that the men she preferred to date lacked. Nick oozed sensuality, where Ernie wouldn't even create a blip on the radar screen.

Marianne stood five foot ten in stocking feet; heels brought her up to six feet. Nick was taller. She preferred to date short men. His broad shoulders tapered into well-defined arms. Those muscles were hard to miss with the short-sleeved polo shirt he'd worn this evening. Omega men didn't have muscles.

The well-defined didn't stop at Nick's arms, either. His chest was almost as wide as his shoulders. She suspected his waist would look like a washboard. His long legs were strong and muscular, and his butt...

She pinched her arm, for she knew if she allowed herself to think about his butt it would lead to other things she didn't want or need to contemplate.

"Still with me? Nick asked.

"Sorry. Just wondering what Ernie saw in Desiree. Could lightning strike a liar in a moving vehicle? She hoped not. What a fibber she'd turned into of late.

"I thought the same, in reverse, Nick admitted. "Perhaps it's time I reexamined my priorities."

She laughed too. "Well, better off without them."

"Will you be okay?"

"Oh sure. You need to take this next exit, she directed.

Nick made the lane change. He slowed the car to a halt at the stoplight at the end of the off-ramp. She could tell he didn't believe her by the way his full mouth quirked up on one side.

"Go right. Left at the third light. My apartment building is on the right-hand side of the street."

A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of her building. He turned the car off and climbed out to open her door.

With the street light out, inky darkness settled over the block. Nick opened her door and offered her a hand out. "I'll see you to your apartment."

"You don't need to come in with me. Marianne dug in her purse for her keys. The street door required a key to enter.

"Maybe, but it's happening, Nick told her. He escorted her to the door. She fumbled with the lock for a moment before they heard it turn and she swept past him. He caught her on the interior stairs in a couple of easy strides.

"I'm perfectly safe inside, Nick, she said, annoyed. Here was a perfect example of Alpha Gorilla behavior. An Omega Wimp would have replied with a meek, yes dear, as you wish, dear .

"Humor me."

"Why? If we see each other again, I'm sure it will just be accidental. You don't need to impress me."

"Have you ever considered playing defense for the Niners?"

"Very funny, Nick Galanapolous. This is it. My humble apartment. Do you want to come in to check for boogey men?"

"Do you think there are any in there? His exaggerated whisper echoed down the narrow corridor, which reeked of an oily fried chicken odor. Someone's dinner.

"Only if my roommate has her boyfriend over. She opened the door and motioned him inside.

Andi did have her boyfriend over. They necked in one of the recliners. Marianne jangled her keys to alert the lovebirds company had arrived.

"Please, I have to sit in that chair, she pleaded with a big grin.

"That's not Ernie, Andi observed. "Hi, Not Ernie."

"This is Nick Galanapolous. Nick, my roomie, Andi Levitz, and her boyfriend, Josh. I'm sure Josh has a last name but I can never remember it, Marianne made introductions. "When did you get back, Josh?"

"Last night. It's Swanson."

"What happened to Ernie? Andi wanted to know.

"Ernie and Nick's girlfriend took an immediate, mutual shine to each other. They left before dinner, Marianne explained. She let Nick take the other recliner while she sat on the overstuffed chintz sofa.

"No way! Andi laughed.

"Way."

"So you two wound up together? Andi waved a hand.

"Nick gave me a ride home and followed me inside."

"He followed you inside, huh? My folks didn't buy that line when I brought Woofie Dog home. I'll quote my mom for you. If you keep a pet, you'll feed him and clean up after him yourself, Andi said, her face serious.

Nick laughed. "I have my own home, thanks."

Andi stood, and grabbed Josh by the hand to urge him onto his feet. "Nice meeting you, Nick."

After the pair disappeared into Andi's bedroom, Nick rose. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He took a business card out of it.

"This has my office number and home number on it. I don't give out many with my home number on it, but if you'd like to talk, Nick offered.

She took the card without rising from the couch. "I'd like to just forget this evening ever happened, but I'll keep your card. Thanks for the ride."

"My pleasure. I'll just see myself out."

Marianne admired his butt as he walked away from her, towards the door. She buried her head in her arms after the door closed behind him. The tears that threatened since the kitchen confrontation with her mother consumed her.

Marianne didn't hear the door open again, or Nick's footsteps as he crossed the room. He sat beside her and gathered her into his arms. Caution abandoned, she curled into his side. She rested her forehead against his shoulder while her own shook with her sobs.

Nick kept an arm wrapped around her. He used his free hand to smooth the back of her head. After what felt like a decade of tears welling up and out of her, she stopped.

Her breath came in short, shaky hiccoughs. His warmth seeped through her quaking body. Oh, but he smelled so good. Felt so good. She forced herself to sit up and away from him. The back of one hand became a tissue as she dragged it across her wet eyes.

"You came back."

"Keys fell out of my pocket. I came back to check the chair. I knocked. Feeling any better? I don't think Ernie is worth the tears."

Marianne managed a weak smile. "They're not for him. And no, I don't want to talk about it. Let's check that chair. It's been known to eat keys and small pets."

Twenty minutes later, they reassembled the recliner. Nick had his keys in his pocket again. "Good night. Again."

He looked at her, lips pursed. "Good night, he said after several silent moments.

Marianne walked him to the door this time. After his departure, she locked it, then turned to lean her back against it in sheer weariness. She'd seen the unasked questions in his eyes, as well as the war within to keep those questions to himself. God help her, the euphoria of her attraction to Nick made her giddy, but fear overrode the burgeoning feeling. Her experience with men, while not extensive, still had taught her they were not to be trusted.

After losing her virginity artlessly, sleeping with her first adult boyfriend had been a big deal. To her, at least. He had been older than she by several years and way more experienced. Only after she convinced herself she was loved him did she sleep with him. Yet every time they had sex, she relived losing her virginity to an over-eager teen-aged boy. The memories became too much for her to handle after a few months of the new physical relationship.

Every time they were together, she heard her mother's voice in her head chanting how sex was for married people. By the end of that long ago affair, her boyfriend had been just as happy to break up as she was. She hadn't slept with anyone since. Nor did she ever intend to again.

* * * *

Why had he held her while she cried? Nick gave himself a good mental kick. Because you're a sucker for a vulnerable woman, came the quick answer. It was true. She didn't deserve the idiot Elbert, or whatever the hell his name was, dumping her.

His cell rang as he got into his car. A glance at the screen told him it was his mother. "Hi, Ma."

"So? Did you get her home? she said instead of a traditional greeting.

"She's safe and sound."

"Marianne's beautiful, don't you think? Such a nice girl. She's not like other women."

"Ma, we both got dumped not three hours ago..."

"Bah, his mother interrupted, her tone dismissive. "She's bright, that one. She owns her own shop."

"Yes, I know. Ma, it just won't work."

"Why shouldn't it work? Ask her to dinner. Talk to her some more before you make a snap decision. She's perfect for you."

"So was Suzanne."

"That's what this is all about? You got set up with that gold digger, so Marianne must be a gold digger too? Not all women were stained with the same black paintbrush as Suzanne."

"Ma, I'm not interested. Please don't try to set me up with anyone else, either. I can choose my own dates."

"Humph, she snorted. "A fine talent you have for that. You're thirty-four, Nick. You should settle down. Start a family."

"Goodbye, Ma."

"Don't you hang up on me."

"Ma, I have to drive now."

"Call me when you get home."

"Why?"

"So I know you got home safely."

"Ma, you pointed out yourself that I'm thirty-four. Give me a break, would you? I'm hanging up now."

"Call me!"

He snapped the phone closed and tucked it into his shirt pocket. His thoughts turned to the bottle of twenty-five year old brandy he had in his liquor cabinet. He sped all the way home.

Mom acts from love...

CHAPTER THREE

Marianne hummed a counter-tune to the soft jazz playing over the speaker system as she served her rain-dampened customers.

"How can you be so cheerful? one woman demanded.

Marianne flashed a grin as she made change. "Pardon the pun, but it's one of the perks of working here. Free coffee."

"Where do I sign up?"

The first rush ended. Marianne visited the little powder room to freshen herself. The bells on the door jangled to signal the arrival of another customer. She shook her head hard one time as she glanced in the mirror. Her dark curly hair fluffed enough to make her look less frazzled.

One customer stood in the store. He examined the coffee-filled muslin bags on one of the antique hutches. She recognized him right away, especially from the spectacular back view.

"Are you intending to become a regular, Nick? That's it. Keep it professional.

He faced her. Apollo on a cracker . He smiled at her. "Good morning. My office is two blocks away. I thought I'd treat the staff to some of the excellent coffee you served me last week."

"You want the pre-ground, then, unless you have a coffee grinder at that fancy law firm of yours? If you don't, I'd be happy to sell you one. I hand-ground the coffee you liked so much."

"Is there that big of a difference? Nick asked, his brown eyes reflecting his amazement.

"Most of my customers seem to think so. I sell more beans than pre-ground, she replied.

"Do you hand-grind the coffee you serve to go?"

Sensing genuine interest, she decided to answer the question, rather than snap in irritation at him for pestering her. "I do."

"I want my colleagues to have the same coffee experience I had, Nick announced. A dimple beside his mouth deepened as his smile grew. His over-exaggerated wink made her laugh.

"Very well then. Marianne walked to the buffet table and opened the door. She pulled out a boxed coffee grinder. With unerring precision, she grabbed a two-pound sack of coffee beans off the shelf before she headed for the counter.

"Don't you have flow problems? he asked.

"I beg your pardon? Great. Her voice squeaked her surprise.

"Well, you have your counter towards the back of the store. Nick gestured toward the object under discussion.

"The counter was there when I leased the store. My customers are well-trained. Oh, she wished he'd wipe that rascally grin off his face. She couldn't keep a coherent thought in her head with him smiling like that.

"Even in a rush?"

"Yep. May I get you anything else? She tallied up the total of the grinder and coffee in her head as she waited for his answer.

"No, that will do it for now."

She put the items in a paper bag with metal handles. "Forty-nine even."

He paid her, hefted the bag off the counter and gave her a mock salute. She didn't have much time for a chuckle as the next rush billowed through the door moments after his departure.

The next lull came between eleven and noon. A couple of older women sat at the back of the shop and read paperbacks while they nursed their lattes. Marianne cleaned her counter after she set the morning's coffeepots to soak in warm water. She finished cleaning the last machine when Nick marched into her store again. He carried a cobalt blue mug in one outstretched hand.

"It's awful!"

Marianne looked at the cup he set on the counter. She lifted the mega-sized mug to her face to smell the liquid. Nose scrunched in self-defense, she grabbed a plastic spoon to dip into the beverage. An experimental taste told her all she needed to know.

"When was the last time the coffee machine at your office was cleaned? She dumped it in the sink. Too bad she couldn't gargle with fresh coffee to rid her mouth of the burnt metallic flavor his awful coffee left behind.

"I don't know. I'm not in charge of those things. I didn't even know coffee machines were washable. His expression mirrored the amazed, shocked tone of his voice.

"No, I don't expect you'd know something like that. She snorted, with the hope that the running water covered the indelicate sound. With his mug clean but dripping, she grabbed a towel to dry it before she returned it to him.

"Make fun of me. I made a big deal out of the coffee I bought. Now I may not make partner because of it, Nick told her. She noticed his jaw twitching as if he tried to keep himself from laughing.

"Either clean the machine or get a new one."

"Do you sell new ones?"

She narrowed her eyes on him in mock severity. "Did you have to take the bar more than once?"

"Very funny."

"I thought so. I sell two sizes. A personal-sized coffee machine and an industrial-sized coffee machine. She knelt down behind the counter to look for coffee machines. Must order more personal-sized ones. The small ones sold so fast they might as well have wings. They all but flew out of her shop.

The big machine required two hands, so she pulled one off the shelf and placed the smaller one on top. She lifted the boxes to the counter top with ease. "Here you are."

"They both look useful. I'll take one of each. The decision made, Nick handed his credit card to her.

She ran the card, bagging the coffee machines while she waited for the authorization number to appear. "So, what sort of lawyer are you?"

"Divorce."

"Really? She handed him one bag and then the other. "Can't say as I'm surprised."

"You're not?"

"No. You have a cynical attitude toward women and marriage. Just state it like a fact, not an accusation, ma'am.

A dark brow ascended. "I do?"

"Yes. I noticed it when you came in here on Friday. I heard it again when you took me home last night when you said you were going to re-examine your priorities. I think you meant you might entertain the notion of dating redheads or brunettes rather than blondes."

"Which would you recommend? he asked. "You seem so knowledgeable about this topic."

"Brunettes. Redheads would argue with you and I don't think you'd like that."

"You know so much about me. To think we just became reacquainted."

His deadpan humor wasn't lost on her. She shrugged at him. "I see people day in, day out. Single, couples. So many personalities to contend with. But men like you are an easy read. You dress with impeccable taste. You think nothing of purchasing an appliance, so long as it makes your life easier, which tells me you have more money than you know what to do with. You like women who look good on your arm, but have fluff for brains. I suspect you're highly charged in the sex department."

"You say that with such disdain. What do you have against money and sex?"

Marianne shook her head. "I have nothing against money. It's just been my experience it often goes hand in hand with sex. As for sex, I refuse to discuss that topic with you."

"When was the last time you had a mind-blowing experience? Nick pressed, undeterred.

"Oh, please. Marianne made a small dismissive sound in her throat. She didn't need or want to have this uncomfortable conversation with him. Talking candidly about sex with her girlfriends was one thing. But discussing it with a man? An extremely sexy man, to put a fine point on it, was more than she could handle.

The small smile he gave her spoke volumes. She could see the calculation going on in his head by the way he looked at her. "Ernie wouldn't be capable of delivering that kind of pleasure. Well, you're well rid of him. Go find yourself a real man."

"I've yet to see one who qualifies. She clicked her tongue in mock dismay.

"Ouch. You have some issues."

"Look who's talking."

"That would be me and I must get back to the office before they change all the locks and forget to give me the keys. It would be terrible if they changed the locks on the men's room and I didn't have a key after all the coffee I've had today."

She closed her eyes in supplication after he left. What had she done to deserve all this grief? First her mother spouted off again about her biological clock, followed by a matchmaking attempt which left her boyfriend-less and reacquainted with one impossible man who happened to be very easy on the eye.

* * * *

Nick strolled toward his office in no great hurry to get there. Nothing but meetings with clients scheduled for today. His head began pounding this morning, right after seeing an Evan Wright. Mr. Wright wanted to divorce his wife of some twenty years because she'd "let herself go over the past decade.

Nobody's fool, Nick questioned the man until he heard the truth. His client had found himself a beautiful, young mistress. A mistress who wanted to become a missus, the problem being the position in question was occupied at the moment.

The brightest spot of Nick's day occurred when he returned to Marianne's Java on the Go. He wouldn't deny it had been a whim that brought him there the first time. Sheer luck gave him an excuse to go back after the conclusion of his meeting.

The woman had missed her calling. Marianne Wilson should have been a police detective; her intuition was a scary thing. Nick contemplated her assessment of him. In many ways she'd been right on the mark. He couldn't hide his cynical attitude about marriage or the inescapable fact he enjoyed intimate, physical relationships with women.

"Rephrase that, buddy, he muttered to himself. He liked the physical without being encumbered by the intimate. No woman accused him of being superficial before. Not that this revelation disturbed him. He found it fascinating she had seen right through his charm as no woman ever had before. Not even The Bitch.

The high rise building that housed the law firm of Abbott and Lane dominated his vision. As he drew closer to it, reluctance slowed his steps. He swung the large bag to his left hand so he could check the expensive gold watch he wore on his right wrist. Yep. His next appointment should be waiting. He forced what he hoped was a professional smile onto his face as he entered the building and took the elevator up to his floor. Ready to face his next client.

* * * *

Mid-afternoon sun spilled through the western facing front windows, leaving large patches of sunlight on the polished wooden floor. Marianne dusted the furniture, and took mental note of what stock needed replaced or added. When she finished, she washed her hands and perched on the tall stool behind the counter.

She pulled out the necessary inventory lists out that she needed, to busy herself with the task she hated most about owning the store. Inventory tracking. To help make the job more bearable, she put a favorite CD into the player: rock-n-roll classics of the Fifties.

A few customers wandered through, and as she helped a grungy-looking young man select a bag of gourmet coffee, a well-dressed older woman came into the store and went back to the counter to wait.

"May I help you? Marianne asked when she finished.

The woman smiled. Marianne noticed her teeth were very white and straight. "I hope so, the woman replied, her low voice pleasant. "I'm looking for Marianne Wilson."

"I'm Marianne Wilson."

The woman smiled again, this time more broadly. "Good. I'm Mrs. Gleason. I'm the head receptionist at Abbott and Lane."

The name of the firm didn't sound familiar to Marianne, who thought the woman could have said Abbott and Costello for the same effect. "Abbott and Lane?"

"Yes. Mr. Galanapolous bought coffee and a coffeemaker here this morning."

"Okay. I didn't know the name of his law firm, Marianne folded her hands on the counter, one over the other. She hadn't bothered to look at the business card he'd given her the other night. She suspected the couch had made a snack of it.

"What a difference a new machine made, Mrs. Gleason enthused. "That's why I'm here. The offices are spread out over two entire floors. We need more coffee machines, and I've been authorized to come to an agreement with you to supply our coffee."

Shocked, Marianne gaped at the receptionist. She'd wanted to branch out and supply businesses, but hadn't taken that step yet. Mrs. Gleason presented a heaven-sent opportunity. Why, the potential of getting an uptight law firm as a client could be tremendous.

"Very well then. How many machines do you need? I don't keep a large stock, since I don't have the storage space. I switched suppliers this week. The new coffee is better."

"Really? You can tell the difference? Well, not that it's hard to miss when what we have at the office we get at the grocery store. Very well. We can negotiate the price increase later. We'll need a minimum of four machines. Six would be better."

"I believe I have six on hand."

"Shall we do this by the week? We go through ten five pound cans of coffee per week, Mrs. Gleason informed her.

She pulled her little calculator out. She tapped the numbers in with the end of a pencil. A tidy sum appeared in the little window. She named it out loud.

"That's very reasonable. You should add a fee for delivery, if you can deliver it to the office, that is, Mrs. Gleason mentioned.

Half an hour later, the women finalized the contract. With that out of the way, Marianne pulled out boxed coffee machines. "I have exactly six, she called, still hunkered down behind the counter.

"I'll take them all. Oh, and we'll need grinders, won't we?"

"You will. Do you want one for each coffee station?"

"We have a central area where we keep the coffee cans. We'll need two."

Marianne came around the counter to retrieve the required items from their storage place. While Marianne bagged the items, Mrs. Gleason pulled out her cell phone. Although the woman kept her voice lowered, Marianne could still hear her ordering a car to come for her. Ten minutes later, she helped carry the bags out to the black car that arrived not five minutes after Mrs. Gleason placed the call.

Back inside the shop she leaned against the counter. She rubbed her temples. Did this day happen the way she thought it did? In one day, she'd sold close to eight hundred dollars worth of coffee machines and had a new contract in hand that would bring in a few extra thousand dollars a month.

Marianne had felt lower than the entrance to Hades earlier in the day, now she wouldn't be surprised to find herself floating on a cloud. And the ironic thing was, the same man was responsible for both her moods this crazy Monday. Not even her mother could dampen her spirits, no matter how hard she tried.

* * * *

Marianne bounced up the steps to the street door of her apartment building, arms laden with bags from her favorite sub shop. Two foot long roast beef subs on sourdough bread slathered with mayonnaise and mustard and loaded with tomatoes, lettuce, and onions, topped with the signature oil and vinegar dressing she loved. In another bag, she had a pound each of potato and macaroni salads, coleslaw, and chips.

"So, this is how you eat? Not that I should be surprised."

"Hi Mom. Didn't know you were stopping by. Here, take my keys and unlock the door, please."

Madge took the keys she dangled from her pinkie. Her mother held the door open.

"What a day. Marianne forced herself to take the stairs to the second floor slowly. No reason to give her mother more ammunition.

"I heard about it. Madge unlocked Marianne's door.

Marianne raced to the kitchen to set the bags on the round table there. "You did? She unloaded the bags.

"Of course I heard. Chloris called me right away. Madge stood in the doorway to the kitchen, her mouth pulled tight with disapproval as she surveyed the room.

"How did she know? Marianne arranged the sandwiches and salads on the counter.

"Her son calls her. It seems he couldn't stop talking about your shop."

"That's a surprise. Do you have time for to sit and have a drink? Remember the good hostess manners, Marianne admonished herself.

"No thank you, I'm on my way home. Why is it such a surprise? Madge prodded.

"Well, we had a bit of a disagreement before he left the store the second time."

"That's not how you should treat your customers. Or a potential husband, Madge lectured.

"Mother. We've had this discussion twice. Besides, Nick's jaded by his career as a divorce attorney. Marianne kept the table between herself and her mother. Extra protection, she supposed.

"You sound like he's beyond hope. What sort of attitude is that to take? You should be more positive. Do something with that hair, wear some make-up. Lose some weight and buy new clothes."

Marianne felt her happy bubble burst into millions of tiny pieces. "If all you're going to do is harp on me about my appearance, your visit is over."

"Nonsense. I'm your mother. I'm concerned about you. Why, I didn't sleep at all last night, worrying about you."

"Why? A long sigh accompanied the question.

" Darling, I'm beside myself with grief that you threw your virginity away, her mother wailed.

Marianne snapped, "If it were possible, I'd become a renewed virgin. Or better yet, why don't you think I am, then I will be. A variation on the old I think, therefore I am.

"It's fine for you to be so flippant about it. Obviously the gravity of the situation hasn't hit you yet. It's a sacred gift, meant for your husband. What were you thinking?"

"I don't think I was. We were both a bit tipsy, she divulged. Why she bothered, she had no clue - her mother wouldn't understand.

"Tipsy? From dancing around in crazy circles?"

She couldn't contain the deep sigh that escaped her lips. Her mother lived in a special place where she saw what she wanted to see; she preferred her safe fantasy world of fiction to harsh reality. A world she ruled with an iron fist, expecting both husband and daughter to jump at her say-so. Marianne had done her best to escape her mother's grasping fingers - before the woman could squeeze the life out of her.

"Tipsy. Drunk."

The shocked look on her mother's face salvaged her temper. Marianne choked back a laugh and waited for the storm to hit the shore. It didn't take long at all. Hurricane Madge struck with category five winds.

"Drunk? You were drunk at the Prom? How could you have been drunk? You were a teenager. Nobody serves alcohol to teenagers."

The naïve view her mother displayed amused her even more than the shocked expression. "Mother, it's done and over with. It was a more than a decade ago."

"Still, the school board should be made aware..."

"Mo-th- ER! she shouted. Time to redirect her mother's attention. And she knew just which button to push. "It's a non-issue. Isn't Daddy going to be home soon?"

"You're right. He will, and I always have dinner on the table when he walks in the door. Like you will do for your husband when you are married. A good provider deserves to have his dinner waiting for him."

Marianne groaned as she grabbed the container of macaroni salad. More homilies on Marriage According to Madge . Her mother should write a book. Ugh. The reason Marianne didn't wish to rush into this state of so-called matrimonial bliss. Also another reason to date safe men; sex for the sake of sex alone wasn't enough for her. She wanted more. Best to ignore it altogether, for her head spun just trying to work out her confusing ideals. "Tell Daddy I said hi."

"You know, I'm not going to mention to him that you aren't a virgin any longer. It would break his heart."

She nodded. "Whatever you think is best, Mom."

"That's the spirit, Madge exclaimed. She moved towards the door at a pace that rivaled a dead snail. "You just remember to be nice to Nick. He's a good man. And a smart one. Anyone with any sense can see you are a good woman, despite the loss of your virginity. He might overlook that if you just took some time with your appearance."

"How is he going to know I'm not a virgin unless I tell him? And why would I do that? she followed her mother, trying not to step on her heels. She could smell the tangy macaroni salad, and her stomach growled in protest.

"I told Chloris, Madge replied.

Macaroni salad exploded across the vinyl floor as Marianne shouted, "You did what ?"

Gossip moves faster than a speeding bullet...

CHAPTER FOUR

Nick met his mother at a popular little Italian bistro located four blocks from his office. "There's a crowd in there, Chloris stage-whispered, her brow wrinkled. "Do you think we'll be able to get a table?"

The restaurant always had a line of people waiting for a seat. "I called for a table right after I spoke with you. Shall we? He grasped his mother's elbow and escorted her inside.

"Nick!"

"Dmitri, how are you doing? This is my mother, Mrs. Galanapolous."

The owner of the bistro took Chloris’ hand and kissed her knuckles in a gallant gesture that brought a blush to her cheeks. "A pleasure. Your son, he is my best customer. I have a table in the back for you."

Nick took his mother's elbow to guide her through the crowded restaurant. They trailed after the large figure of the owner. The table Dmitri stopped by stood in a secluded corner, partially blocked from the other patrons. After settling, Nick said, "Two house specials, Dmitri, and two iced teas."

"You come here often? Chloris asked. She picked at the tablecloth after the owner left them. "You know what to order."

"It's close to the office, convenient for a late bite on my way home. So, what is so urgent it couldn't wait? Nick unrolled the heavy green cloth napkin and caught the silverware in his open palm.

He recognized the confidential look that crossed her face. He sat back, waiting for her to start what looked to be nothing more than a conversation of gossip.

"She's not a virgin."

"Who? he drummed his fingers on the table.

"It's a crying shame, that's what it is. In my day, a man could expect his wife to be untouched on the wedding night. Of course, those were the Sixties and there was all that free love nonsense. Still, a decent man expected his bride to be inexperienced."

Amused, Nick shook his head. His mind drifted back over the divorce scheduled for eight in the morning. A high society marriage gone wrong. It hadn't even lasted a full year. Another nail in the marital coffin for him.

"This is a laughing matter to you?"

Nick returned his full attention to his mother as he tried to make sense of her convoluted speech. "You've strayed from the question. Who's not a virgin?"

"Marianne Wilson. Madge is very distraught. Quite frankly, given Madge's attitude about sex, I'm amazed Marianne isn't a virgin."

He strained to hear his mother's voice, her tone had hushed as she divulged the name. "Why does this matter, Ma? he paused when a young blond server brought their drinks. He continued after the girl left. "I told you I'm capable of finding my own wife."

"When? When will you find this wife? Chloris demanded. Her eyes flickered to her watch, then back up to his face. "I don't even want to contemplate where you'll find her. I suppose you consider bleach bottle blondes with fake bosoms suitable wife material."

"Why are you looking at your watch? You plan to leave before dinner comes?"

"No. Just checking. Father Andropolous won't be at the church at this time of night. I'll have to go tomorrow."

The scent of Italian seasonings wafted through the restaurant as the kitchen doors opened and closed behind rushing servers. Their plates arrived moments later. "What is it? Chloris asked.

"Seafood spaghetti. There's clam, shrimp, scallops, and whatever else Dmitri had on hand. You'll like it. So, what's the hurry to see Father Andropolous? I really think you should wait until I at least have a fiancée before you go off planning the wedding."

He ducked his head, tucking into his food when his mother turned her rapier gaze his way. "You shouldn't be so blasé about this situation, she scolded. "Madge may have outdated ideas, but she is a wonderful mother. She doesn't deserve this."

"Oh, you're going to pray for my wicked soul. Marianne's too? Have fun. He took a healthy swig of tea. Tired of the intrigue, he allowed his mind to wander. Not too far off topic, though. Try as he might, he couldn't get the image of Marianne as she'd lectured him out of his mind. Her eyes and mouth had held him mesmerized while she'd reproached him.

"Fun? Fun? You think spending three hours on bad knees praying with a priest who never met an onion he didn't like is fun? Apollo Nicholas Galanapolous..."

He groaned at the use of his hated full name. He wondered why she hadn't considered a career as an attorney herself. His mother would win every case by employing her infamous guilt-trip tactics.

"Are you listening? Chloris asked. He nodded and she continued. "I consider myself to be young still, even though I have a grown son who is a practicing attorney. But I age every day you continue to flaunt your free and easy lifestyle with little consideration for your father and me. There are diseases running rampant today that people of my generation didn't have to worry about. We won't be young forever, and we would like to see our grandchildren grown up and successful like their father before we die."

He rolled his eyes. Now he knew she took this too personally; she invoked the death clause. He took another fortifying gulp of tea before he spoke. It was time to choose his words like he faced a disagreeable judge in a media-filled courtroom.

"Mother, do you know what I do for a living? I'm a divorce attorney. I spend my days with people desperate to end their marriages. Marriages that began with hope and promises of the elusive happily-ever-after fairy tale. I've seen husbands and wives lunging across boardroom tables, snarling while reaching out to throttle the now not-so-beloved spouse. You'll have to excuse me when I say I don't believe in marriage."

"Then I'm sorry for you, Nick, Chloris said. She twirled vermicelli around her fork. "Your father and I have been happily married for thirty-five years."

Nick chewed the seafood he'd just placed in his mouth. He swallowed. "I'm ecstatic you and Dad have a good one. You're the exception, not the rule. No, but thank you very much, I don't think I want to play the marital game."

A closed expression descended on his mother's face as she applied herself with gusto to eating the remainder of her meal. Nick, thankful for her silence, nevertheless felt annoyed that he'd had to all but drop a bomb on her to end her rant.

"Why do you think I'd care whether Marianne was a virgin or not?"

"Now you want to talk about it? I'm just passing valuable information on to you. These are things a man should consider when choosing his bride, Chloris waved a hand over her plate.

"You think virginity is high on my list of considerations? He finished his meal, then sat back to nurse the last couple of inches of his drink while his mother ignored his last question and finished her meal.

"I'll walk you to your car, he offered when she folded her used napkin into thirds.

"That's not necessary, Chloris replied.

"As you wish, Nick said, weary of arguing with her. He didn't expect an answer. He knew the silent treatment when he heard it. How many times he had seen her use this strategy on his father he couldn't guess, but he knew it brought her the desired results. However, he wasn't his father, and he didn't have to live with her any longer. He stood.

"Aren't you going to wait for the check? Chloris demanded.

"No. Dmitri will send it around to the office. I'll take care of it then. He threw a ten-dollar bill on the table, a tip for their server.

Chloris sniffed as she rose from her seat. She preceded Nick out of the restaurant. He noticed her stiff back, but refrained from any more attempts at conversation. Out on the sidewalk, he watched her turn to the right. He waited until she located her car and got inside. When the silver town car pulled away from the curb, he pointed himself towards his own vehicle.

He pulled up in front of Marianne's building an hour later. He found an intercom at the entrance to the building and while he waited for a response, he looked around.

The neighborhood had seen better days, but the building Marianne lived in looked in good repair. A voice crackled over the intercom, demanding to know who was there

"Nick Galanapolous. He felt ridiculous talking to the ancient intercom.

A loud buzz sounded. Nick let himself in and climbed the stairs to Marianne's apartment.

"You have a visitor, Andi yelled through Marianne's closed bedroom door.

"If it's my mother, shoot her on sight, Marianne called. She coughed. Her throat hurt from all the crying she'd done after her mother left. Now, she could hear the blood whooshing through her head. Each individual hair in her eyebrows ached with the intensity of the headache she felt building behind her eyes. As she upended the clean laundry in the plastic basket onto her bed, she hoped the migraine meds she'd taken would kick in soon.

"It's Nick, Andi called.

"Great! Just what I need! Tell him I moved to the Sahara Desert, and I left no forwarding address. Ouch. She shouldn't yell. It made the headache pain cascade into rainbow colors.

There came no response through the locked door, so Marianne started to fold her clothes. Moments later, two hard knocks sounded on the door again, followed by a voice that definitely didn't belong to Andi.

"Marianne. Open up."

"Go away, Nick. I'm not in the mood for this. Must. Not. Yell. Again.

The door popped open a few seconds later. Nick stood there, framed by the jamb and the light that shone behind him.

"You okay? Inquisitive eyes probed hers.

Marianne sighed. "I'm rather upset. Your mother certainly passed the news along as fast as she could."

"If it's the latest in gossip, my mother's all over it like a bad toupee on a bald man. Want a hand folding? Nick rolled his sleeves up past his elbows.

"No, thanks. I have some rather personal items in this, she admitted. Athena's corset . She didn't want him to find...

Nick picked up a lacy pink bra. It dangled from his fingers. The full cups held their shape due to the underwire that ran around the edges. She watched in mute horror as he rubbed his thumb over the six fastening hooks.

"I noticed. Do you have matching panties?"

She couldn't move fast enough to retrieve the lacy pink panties on the top of the heaping pile. When he picked them up, she slapped her hand over her mouth. While she liked the feel of satin panties, she was too generously proportioned to wear undies of a delicate size. She waited for him to comment about the size of her big butt.

Nick's brown eyes found hers. It surprised her see that rather than twinkling with amusement or worse, revulsion, his eyes softened sensuously. "I like a good handful."

Speechless, she lowered her hand from her mouth. She licked her dry lips, cleared her throat and said, "You came by for a reason?"

"Good to see you haven't lost your voice. I worried for a few moments there. I had dinner with my mother this evening."

Marianne felt her face heat. She sank onto the bed. Nick sat beside her. He took one of her hands in his. When he spoke, his voice sounded very gentle, and she felt his sincerity envelope her.

"I think there are a couple of women who owe you an apology. I've already phoned my mother and told her to get herself over to your parents’ house, and I phoned them to expect her. Let's go."

"I don't wish to see my mother right now, Nick. I'm so angry I could spit nails. What I told her, I told her in confidence. With the expectation it would stay between us."

"And it should have. It's nobody's damn business whether you're a virgin or not."

She came to her feet, having no choice as Nick still held onto her hand when he rose. She tried to take her hand back, but he wouldn't let go.

Marianne waved at her roomie as Nick pulled her through the living room. Andi sat curled in a recliner, the phone glued to her ear. She waved back, a broad grin spread across her narrow face.

Nick reached into his pocket to retrieve his keys. He pointed the key ring at his car. A chirped click and bleep told Marianne he'd unlocked the doors. She got her hand back when she'd seated herself on the soft leather passenger seat.

"I don't want to do this, Nick, she told him again when he climbed into the car.

"You aren't doing anything other than being apologized to. It's time we stood up to these women, once and for all. You deserve to be treated with respect, and we both deserve to have our wishes respected when it comes to our personal lives."

"I've gotten used to drowning her out, she mused. "I smile, nod, then go my merry way and ignore her. But this is the first time she's attempted to fix me up with someone. Perhaps my reluctance to swoon with delight at her vision of my future motivates her, but I cringe every time she mentions something she does for my father. And how I'll do the same for my husband. The very idea holds about the same appeal as kissing an alligator."

"Can't say as I blame you for wanting a different sort of marriage. By the same token, I'm not about to start dating a woman because my Mommy wants me to, Nick replied. He looked over his shoulder, then changed lanes.

"I wouldn't want to date a man who did, she admitted. Okay, that would be a major Omega Man trait, but a girl had to have some standards and draw the line somewhere. She glanced at him, noting the look of fierce concentration. Neither spoke again until he parked in her parent's driveway, beside his mother's car.

The porch light was on. It a warm yellow glow into the dark front yard. When the door opened, Frank Wilson welcomed them, rather than Madge. From the perplexed expression he wore, Marianne could tell her father had no idea what was going on.

"Hi, honey. The Galanapolouses arrived a few minutes ago. Ted and I are stumped. Your mothers are speechless."

"Hi, Daddy."

"Mr. Wilson, Nick said.

The tableau in the living room could have been carved marble. The meddling mamas sat side by side on the sectional sofa while Ted Galanapolous examined at the photos on the wall. Nick took Marianne's elbow and ushered her to the chair that faced their mothers.

"Mother, Mrs. Wilson, Nick began. "Now is your opportunity to apologize to Marianne. We aren't leaving until you do."

"Apologize? Son, what's going on? Your mother hasn't said more than three words since she came home from her dinner with you. You called three seconds after she walked in, Ted mentioned, sitting on the arm of the sectional.

"It seems that Marianne told her mother something in confidence, which she then told mother. The reason I had dinner with her tonight, Dad, is because she couldn't wait to tell me something that should never have left this house."

Marianne started at the stern tone Nick adopted. A pleased feeling stole over her when he summed up the case without bringing up what the broken confidence was. She saw the sharp look her father bestowed upon her mother.

"Madge? Frank asked.

"I felt Nick had a right to know, Madge said, her chin high in the air. "And I knew Chloris would tell him."

Marianne couldn't keep the words in, and they burst forth in a blaze of anger. "Why on earth, Mother, would you think Nick needs to know, or would even care, that I'm not a virgin? She glared at her mother. The pathos of betrayal threatened to explode in her chest as she tried to understand her mother's motivation. She knew for certain it would be a very long time before she shared another confidence with her mother, if at all. Bitter tears pricked the back of her eyelids and she blinked to clear her eyes.

A warm hand clasped her shoulder. She looked up to see her father standing at her side, looking down at her with such a look of compassion she almost started to cry again. He nodded at her, almost imperceptibly before he looked over at the women who sat white-faced on the couch.

"Well, Madge? her father inquired, his voice heavy with disappointment. Marianne felt her heart flutter before she realized the disappointment wasn't directed at her, but at her mother.

"I'm sorry, Marianne, her mother whispered.

"Chloris? Ted Galanapolous prompted.

"I'm sorry too, Marianne."

The room filled with silence as she contemplated the older women. She looked away after several minutes, without saying a word, and turned to face toward her father. When it became evident to everyone else in the room that she had nothing to say, Nick spoke again.

"I don't know why the two of you decided to meddle in our lives. You can't make our decisions for us. All you can do is accept that neither of us is ready to marry anyone, let alone each other. I can't speak for Marianne, but if you ever pull another stunt like this, Mother, I'll walk out of your life for good."

Marianne rose, wrapped her arms around her father and closed her eyes as she put her head on his shoulder. He patted her back before he tightened his arms around her in response. She pulled back to kiss his cheek.

"Well said, Nick. I think I'll let you speak for me too, she announced.

Nick nodded. He held his hand out to her, and she moved to take it. They left her parent's house together, leaving stark silence behind them.

* * * *

Marianne counted herself lucky each week she delivered coffee to Nick's law firm and didn't see him. Last thing she wanted was a reminder of the Greek tragedy her mother had inflicted upon her. Nothing could compare to the raw scrubbed emotions she throbbed with during every waking minute.

Week three after The Big Scene, Nick ambushed her in the elevator.

"You're here early, he commented. "Delivery?"

"Yes. Her escape route closed with the heavy doors. Pain that had started to abate only in the past couple of days surged through her, spurred to the forefront by Nick's presence.

Nick glanced around the empty elevator. Marianne wished they didn't have it all to themselves. This proximity to him did little for her equilibrium. It had the effect of alcohol poured on an open wound. The sound of her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

"Where's the coffee? he asked.

"In my car. Perhaps if she kept her answers short, he'd become discouraged and stop this miserable conversation. She could always hope. Never had she ever experienced such mortification as she had since the moment her mother and his had decided to play matchmaker.

She'd survive. But not if she had to continue this discussion with him much longer.

"You ever think of becoming a professional witness? You're a defender's dream come true. Nick reached out to touch her arm, but drew his hand back before he made actual contact, somehow sensing her need for him to keep his distance.

"What do you want? Humph. Time to hire an employee to take over deliveries for her. She didn't relish an instant replay of this anytime soon - not when she both longed for and feared him.

It would take the rest of her life to recover from the single most humiliating moment she'd ever lived through. Her mother left a thousand messages on her answering machine at home, and had even started calling Java . Marianne kept her office door closed because her mother's wailing voice echoed throughout the entire store, even at low volume..

"Yes, you should become a professional witness for sure. You give nothing away, Nick mused.

Marianne made a face and squirmed under his speculative gaze. No, he really couldn't see inside, her. Could he?

As much as she didn't want to clarify anything, he did at least deserve some sort of explanation. After all, he had championed her cause against their mothers - without voicing the topic of their gossip. That not only took talent, but revealed much about him - things she didn't with to think about.

"Look, I'm having a hard time dealing with ... everything. You're mixed up in all that."

"I'm the good guy, remember? He sounded plaintive, non-judgmental.

"I do remember. But you have to understand, our mothers hauled you into the middle of it all. And I can't handle that , she added silently. Not when I can't deal with my past myself.

"Are you embarrassed? Nick's whisper echoed in the tiny elevator car.

Marianne looked away before she said or did anything that would confirm her inner agitation. The doors opened and she made her get-away. If three steps could be called an escape. Nick caught her by the elbow. At six-thirty in the morning, the outer offices were deserted, but he kept his voice lowered.

"I wish I knew what to say, to take away your unhappiness, Marianne. There's no excuse for what they did to you."

"No, there isn't. That's not the whole problem, though."

"What is?"

Perhaps having her mouth stitched shut would keep her from saying too much. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad. Confession time."

She closed her eyes for a second. Oops. Didn't work. Nick still stood before her, his set expression challenged her. Something told her he wouldn't allow her to leave until she'd answered his questions to his satisfaction.

"You really want to know? She prevaricated. A deep breath in and, "I can see myself dating you but for two factors. Our mothers first, foremost and insurmountable. Number two, I couldn't be sure of your motivations, if we did see each other."

"My motivations? Nick's forehead creased.

"You're making me late. Marianne turned to leave. Nick wasn't the steady relationship type, and he exhibited Alpha Gorilla tendencies. No sense wasting her time. It took too long to find herself again after her last failed affair. She couldn't put a man's needs above her own ever again. Nick tempted her to do that, oh, how he tempted her.

"Marianne..."

"I'm not interested in a casual sexfest masquerading as a relationship."

"Wait a minute. You're jumping to more conclusions than I can count."

She sighed and faced him again. "I've met your taste in women, Nick. Make no mistake, I don't fall into the bimbo category. It would never work between us. I want more. I need more. I deserve more.

* * * *

Nick didn't know whether to shake Marianne or kiss her, but the opportunity to do either left when she ran away from him. At least this encounter answered a couple of questions for him. Yes, she was avoiding him. More importantly, he wasn't the only one fighting an awkward attraction.

He whistled under his breath. His motivations? What suspect motivations could he have, unless ... no. It couldn't be that. Marianne intrigued him. That was it. However, the evidence to support his conclusion stared him in the face. She differed from the women he preferred to date-she had more than just a pretty face, she had substance. There was something about her that made him want to get to know her better.

Well, he knew exactly what he needed to do. It wouldn't be easy; passing the bar was easy. Bringing Marianne around, convincing her to take a chance? Tantamount to climbing El Capitan without ropes in the middle of a thunderstorm.

When the florist won't stop delivering flowers, make a hat...

CHAPTER FIVE

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Hello to you, too. You didn't lose my card after all."

Marianne clenched her hand around the phone. Her vain attempt to remain in cool, calm control was failing fast. Who knew Nick had such a sexy phone voice?

"Did you get the flowers?"

Adonis on a cracker. He hadn't just sent flowers. He'd sent the entire florist's shop. "That's why I'm calling."

"I know I sent you a lot. In my defense, let me just say I wanted to be certain I sent you your favorite kind. Did I manage to do that?"

Fifty-something flowers just for that? Despite her desire to not be impressed, Marianne couldn't help herself. "You did."

"And they were?"

Three little words. Big sexy voice . She wanted to float away on the cadence of his speech. Wrap his voice around her shoulders like a cloak. All she had to do was close her eyes and she could picture him. Darn him.

"Hello? Still there?"

"Yes. I am. I like azaleas."

"I had you pegged for roses."

"I'd never turn down a rose. She should end this conversation. Quit encouraging him.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Kerthumpwent her heart. Marianne licked her dry lips. "I, uh, the door. I have to answer the door."

"One more thing."

No. No more things. "Okay."

"What's your favorite candy?"

"Candy? Squuuuuaaawwwwkkkk. Marianne wanna cracker ? "Anything chocolate. No nuts."

"Chocolate, no nuts. Gotcha. What do you have against nuts?"

"Nothing. I just don't like them polluting my chocolate."

"One more thing."

Of course. One more thing. Just like a small child. Nick took her silence as acquiescence. "How about dinner?"

"No. She hung up on him. When the phone rang not two seconds later, she jumped. Probably her mother. Marianne let the call go to the answering machine.

Nick's voice filled the apartment. "We got disconnected. Fair warning, Marianne. I don't give up easily."

"Neither do I."

* * * *

Longing for a family, but realizing she didn't wish to sacrifice herself to the whims of a man made it much easier for Marianne to put the entire Nick incident out of her mind. Well, ninety-five percent. Anyone believe seventy-five percent? Oh, alright. He didn't stray much from her thoughts at all. With her thirtieth birthday looming with all the menace of stray dark facial hairs, her mother's endless comments about Marianne's biological clock resounded in her memory.

Just what she needed to contemplate while she trudged back to her apartment. She lugged two bags of ice, wishing for something new to fixate on that wasn't named Nick. Marianne took the steps to her floor two at a time. The front door wasn't shut all the way, so she used her foot to nudge it open enough to enter.

"Surprise!"

Marianne jumped back three feet. The ice bags slipped from her hands to the floor as three women rushed her from the interior of her apartment.

Andi led the charge, the look on her face triumphant. "Happy Birthday! she exclaimed, hugging Marianne.

Dazed, she hugged her roomie, and listened to the cacophony of voices wishing her Happy Birthday. "I am surprised. I suppose this is what we needed all of the ice for?"

Andi grinned. "I had to get you out of the apartment long enough for Sheila and Thea to sneak in."

"Are you surprised? A cool looking blonde reached around Andi to hug Marianne..

"Sheila! I thought you were in Brazil or Cancun on a modeling assignment."

Sheila bobbed her elegant head. "The photographer's wife decided to deliver their first child a couple of weeks early. We all trooped home for a short break. I was thrilled to hear Andi's voice on the machine with an invitation to a surprise party."

Another woman pushed her way to the front. "Marianne!"

"Thea!"

The four of them had been the best of friends since kindergarten. They'd formed an unbreakable bond the day a threesome of little girls rescued Thea from a group of little boys. The nasty boys were picking on Thea because she talked funny. After forming a triangle around Thea and running the boys off, Marianne had asked her, "Why do you talk like that?"

Thea'd answered, "Everyone talks like this where I come from."

"Where do you come from? Andi had demanded.

"Jamaica."

Already a beauty queen in the making, Sheila had sighed, "I wish I had your tan."

"I'm not tan. My skin is always dark like this, Thea replied. The bond forged, the four girls were inseparable all through school.

"It's a birthday reunion! Marianne gathered her three best friends into a group hug. "What a great birthday present!"

"No, those are over by the couch, Sheila replied.

Marianne let her friends grab her by the arms to drag her to the sofa after they disentangled themselves from the group hug. The gifts peeked out from under a coffee table laden with pizzas and beer. The conversation flew fast and furious between bites of pizza and swallows of beer.

"I didn't think models were allowed to eat pizza, Marianne teased, rolling a long string of stretched out cheese into a ball. She popped it into her mouth.

"Or drink beer, Thea added, the soft cadence of her voice more noticeable since she'd gulped back one bottle of beer in one stream.

Sheila shrugged as she answered through a mouthful of cheesy pizza. "I won't eat for a week after this. It will be fine."

"No barfing in the bathroom, Andi announced.

"I haven't done that since high school, Sheila retorted, a wide, innocent grin cracking across her lovely face.

"Have you had sex since high school, Marianne? Thea asked.

Andi chortled. "Her knees are glued together."

"So? Sheila demanded. "That's never stopped me."

"You glued your knees together? Andi sounded skeptical, but the sparkle in her gray eyes belied her tone.

The women screamed with laughter. Sheila had discovered sex first and held nothing back from her friends. A veritable fount of information, if it was possible to do it, Sheila probably had.

"Mare, Thea started, once the hilarity subsided. "Andi mentioned a bit about what's been going on with your mother."

"It's all par for the course with her. Marianne reached for another slice of pizza.

"Sounds like Nick Galanapolous is a hottie, Sheila mentioned. "Why on earth don't you want to date him? From what Andi's said, he's a keeper. Imagine, facing down the Dragon Mama successfully!"

As pre-teens, they had given their mothers nicknames. Marianne's mother became known as the Dragon Mama because they thought her capable of breathing fire. They dubbed Andi's mother Smother , Sheila's mother was Beauty Queen , and Thea's was Cherub Mum .

"He's full of himself, Marianne informed her friends.

The snorting sounds they made echoed off the walls for a good ten minutes. "How can he be full of himself when he can ride the proverbial white horse to rescue a damsel in distress? Thea wanted to know.

"He's sex crazed. She made this complaint sound like he'd robbed a bank at high noon, killed the tellers, and kidnapped the beautiful woman as he made his escape.

Sheila's deadpan response elicited more giggles. "And that's a problem?"

"It is for Marianne, Andi observed. "I think she's wearing a chastity belt."

"I've heard Dragon Mama's take on sex, it's no wonder you're repressed, Mare, Sheila comforted, patting Marianne's knee. "Oh! Let's open the presents!"

Grateful for the subject change, Marianne reached under the short table for one of the gifts. Hard and rectangular, it felt like a book. She tore the paper off, then gaped in semi-shock when she saw the title.

"Just what I needed. A how-to sex book! She couldn't help but laugh. She'd had too much beer to be anything but happy. "This must be from Sheila."

"No, it's from me, Andi corrected. She grabbed another gift and handed it to Marianne. "This one is from Sheila."

It also looked like a book under the wrapping paper. It turned out to be a very famous sex manual, complete with illustrations. Sheila took it from her and opened it. She held the book so they could all see.

"This is my favorite one. Sheila pointed to the picture as she read the instructions about how to couple in the fashion depicted. She flipped through the book again, pausing to show them other good pages.

Marianne felt her face grow warmer and warmer as Sheila recounted her experiences, but couldn't be offended. This was how they were. These were her friends, and if she couldn't laugh about her issues with them, then who could she turn to for support? Certainly not her mother.

Thea handed her another gift. This one was a wrapped clothing box. Inside she found naughty lingerie. She pulled out a short, silky-feeling negligee. The golden and black shades of the tiger print material sparkled as she shook it open. Across the top of the low-cut bodice, tawny faux fur fluffed.

"Grrr, Thea said. "Meow. There's more."

A pair of matching panties for the tiger nightie and matching fuzzy mules had been tucked into the box as well. Marianne put the mules on right away.

"Oooo ... I like playing Tarzan and Jane, Sheila purred.

Several wadded up napkins flew through the air at Sheila. She ducked to the floor, and came back up with another gift. The large box was awkward.

"This is from all of us, Andi said, helping Sheila with the box.

Nestled inside in bubble wrap Marianne found an antique china tea service. The blue on white toile print teapot looked to be big enough to hold a couple of gallons of liquid. Matching sugar, creamer, teacups and plates followed the teapot. At the very bottom of the box lay a silverware box, almost black with age. With reverent hands, daring not to breathe, she lifted the box. A complete set of tarnished silverware filled the heavy box.

"Oh, my. She gasped.

"You like? We know you love antiques. Andi found this months ago and called us. We all chipped in. I found the silver in Brazil, Sheila explained.

"Words fail me, Marianne admitted. She placed the items back into the box before she hugged each of her friends in turn. "Thank you so much."

"There's more, Thea told her. She pulled her purse out from behind the couch. She took a box out and held it out to Marianne.

Marianne opened the unwrapped box with shaking hands. "I saw it in the antique shop up the block from you, where I parked. I dashed in to get it, Thea said.

A tissue-wrapped object slipped from the box into Marianne's lap. She unwound the crinkly tissue to find a delicate amethyst colored perfume bottle. As she examined it, she discovered the amethyst tones changed as light hit the bottle. The lip of the bottle appeared to be twenty-four carat gold, and much hadn't rubbed off over the years.

"I've been admiring this for months."

Thea looked smug. "As soon as I saw it in the window, I knew you'd ogled it, coveting it."

"You guys are the best."

Sheila made a big show of checking inside her undies. "I'm not a guy, but thanks for the sentiment, she said. "Andi, didn't you get movies? I think we all need to get into our jammies and start the pajama party portion of this event."

"A sleepover? Marianne giggled. What a way to spend a thirtieth birthday. Nothing like getting together with your best girlfriends for a gabfest that included chick flicks, junk food, and liquor.

ABBA and Barry Manilow may have had a point about getting ready to take a chance...

CHAPTER SIX

She thanked God she had the weekend to recover from the hangover created by celebrating her birthday with her best friends. Monday always came with unrelenting regularity, and this particular Monday she had to be sharp. She'd scheduled interviews in the afternoon with the five most promising job applicants. It was about time to hire help now that she could comfortably afford to pay someone.

Prospective employees began showing up right after Marianne ate her lunch. She popped a mint in her mouth to kill her onion breath. The first hopeful was a young man.

He wore his long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. His clothes were clean, but very casual. He wore sandals. He didn't look like he was starving either.

"You're Doug Lamson? I'm Marianne Wilson."

"You serve great coffee, Doug answered. "I've tried all the coffee around here, and yours is by far the best."

Blatant flattery was good. But she needed to know more about his background. She perused his application and noticed he held three other part-time jobs.

"You aren't expecting this to be a full time gig, are you? Right now I'm only hiring a part-time assistant."

"Your store is busy enough you need full-time help, Doug told her. "The only reason most people wait in the lines here is because you serve a mean cuppa java, like I said."

"How often do you come in here? I recognize you, but I don't keep count."

He flashed a quick smile. "I'm in here every single day, at different times. I always seem to be here when you're in a crunch. Look, I don't care if all you can pay me is minimum wage with no benefits. I work because I like to, not because I need to."

"Can you run a register?"

"Sure. I can count change back and I can pour coffee without spilling. I don't mind lifting or moving heavy boxes or staying to keep the shop open later than you do now. You lose a lot of business, by the way, closing at five."

"You seem to know a lot about my business."

"I like coffee and I like your shop. I have references."

She'd noted that beforehand, impressed to see so many listed. She'd called them during the half-hour she closed the shop for lunch. All were enthusiastic about the young man.

"I've talked to your references already. Well, Doug, there are four other applicants for the position, so I'll call you this evening and let you know my decision."

They shook hands and the young man purchased a cup of coffee before he left.

The other interviews didn't go so well. One young woman had shocking pink and orange hair along with multiple piercings on her ears, mouth and nose. Not the image Marianne wanted to project. Another woman was too elderly to keep up with the frantic morning pace. The last two applicants couldn't speak English. So much for her promising pile of applications.

She closed the shop, then called Doug Lamson to tell him she'd like to hire him. The short conversation ended with his promise to meet her at the store first thing the next morning.

* * * *

A phone call from her father shattered her peaceful evening.

"I know it's been three months since I've talked to Mother, Dad, Marianne said into the cordless phone. She had it tucked between her ear and shoulder so she could have her hands free to clean the bathtub.

"She's not been happy since the night you walked out of the house with Nick. Her cooking is off."

"I'm sorry she's moping and you're suffering from her mood. I really am. But look at it from my perspective. I told her something in confidence. And she blabbed it the first chance she got, Marianne filled a cup with water and started rinsing the tub as she listened to her father's reply.

"I miss you. You aren't just ignoring your mother, Mari."

"You could stop by the shop or the apartment, if you want to see me, Daddy. More rinsing as she listened.

"It's not the same, not seeing you at all."

"I miss you too. I'm sorry you're the one caught in the middle between Mom and me. Let's have lunch soon, just you and me. I'll talk to you later. Love ya. She turned the phone off with her thumb.

"Josh is here! I'm going! Andi hollered.

"Have fun, Marianne popped her head out of the bathroom to respond.

"I will! You have fun moping!"

"I'm not moping!"

"See ya later. Or not!"

Andi spent much of her time with her boyfriend. Unless Josh was out of town, Marianne saw her friend on rare occasions. Which, considering her less than pleasant mood of the last few months, was probably a good thing.

With the apartment all to herself, she decided to close all the blinds. Slick with the sweat she'd worked up while scrubbing the shower tile and grout, she looked forward to feeling the cool air of the rarely used a/c unit on her bare skin. A nice strawberry margarita wouldn't be amiss either, to help her take her mind off a certain attorney.

Half an hour later, she stretched out on the sofa, drink in hand, wearing nothing but lacy pink satin undies and a matching bra. Her sweaty clothes lay in a heap in on the very clean bathroom floor. She drank several glasses of the icy drink while she watched a movie on one of the movie channels. With ten minutes until the end, she was annoyed to hear someone tapping on the door. She pulled on the long nightshirt she'd tossed onto one of the recliners earlier.

Nick didn't bat an eyelash when she flung the door open. His eyes flickered over her scantily clad body, and lingered on the ample swell of her breasts before he grinned at her.

"Hello! he said.

She giggled. "Nick. It's been a while. How'd you get in here?"

"One of your neighbors was going out as I arrived. Nice outfit, by the way."

"What? she looked down at herself, sobering instantly. "Oh! Oh! She left him standing in the hallway as she ran back to her bedroom and slammed the door behind herself.

"Marianne?"

She fell across her bed with her pillow over her head. She the quilt around her body, and ignored his calling out to her. His voice grew louder.

"Marianne? The bedroom door sprang open. The bed dipped when Nick sat beside her. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"No. Go away."

He tugged at the quilt to unwrap her. She held onto the edges with a fierce grip. The pillow on her head moved. "Well, at least I can see your head."

She groaned. "Don't you own a phone?"

"Yes. But you hung up on me last time. I left messages for you, too. Didn't think you got those, since you never called back."

She growled and rolled away from him, onto her back.

"Your eyes are green, Nick sounded astounded. "They were hazel last time I saw you."

"Green hazel. I suppose I should come clean and admit I got your messages."

He shrugged. "Ignoring me?"

"Yes."

Nick clicked his tongue. "That's refreshing. Brutal honesty. In all fairness, however, you've judged me without giving me a chance to defend myself. You've based your conclusion about me on circumstantial evidence. To make a truly informed decision, you need to consider all the angles. Gather more data. Then make your verdict."

"Compelling argument, Mr. Attorney."

"Thank you. So, how about dinner and a movie?"

"Sounds like a date."

His eyes beamed at her as he smiled. Reluctantly, she felt herself smiling back. He replied, "Personal fact finding mission."

"After all we went through, to assure our mothers we weren't interested in one another? Why? She looked away, confused.

"I couldn't stop thinking about those pink underthings of yours, Nick admitted. When she looked back at him, he'd stretched his legs on the bed as he leaned against the wall.

"You're kidding. Her voice sounded strangled to her.

"Nope."

"I knew I had you pegged dead to rights. So this dinner invitation is sexually motivated? She tensed, ready to leap away from him if he gave the wrong answer.

"No. I don't think we should have sex on the first date, he said.

"But you think we should have sex?"

A negligent shrug lifted his broad shoulders. "Sex would be nice. Whenever you're ready."

"Why would you think I'd be interested?"

"I don't. I think the reason you date geeks like Ernie is because you're afraid of sex."

"This is ridiculous! I'm not afraid of sex, as you well know."

"So how many lovers have you had? He folded his arms over his chest. She felt his eyes on her as she rolled to her feet, off the other side of the bed, with the quilt wrapped around her body like a sarong. She felt a little more in control of the situation now that she looked down at him.

"Two. She snapped her teeth together in aggravation. Why did I answer that?

"How long ago?"

She clamped her lips shut and favored him with a good glare. She took a deep breath when he laughed; a one hundred percent pure male chuckle which made her hackles rise.

"At a guess, I'd say it's been a while. I'll go even further to bet you didn't enjoy the experience. If you had, we wouldn't be having this discussion."

"Is that what you call this interrogation? A discussion?"

"So, you want to have dinner or not?"

Stunned at the abrupt change of subject, she relaxed. This talk about sex with a man who oozed sexuality from every pore of his being did little for her peace of mind. She found herself intrigued. This man had ridden to her defense three months ago, confronting her outspoken mother, demanding she apologize. She didn't know any other man who would do something so akin to facing down a fire-breathing dragon. Plus there was the indisputable fact that she was more than just a little bit attracted to him. What did she have to lose at this point?

"Alright. Dinner, she agreed cautiously. "And we don't tell our mothers. What on earth was she thinking, agreeing to go out on a date with a man her mother approved of with a scary ferocity? Had she killed all the brain cells she possessed by drinking too many homemade margueritas tonight?

He leapt off her bed. "Friday night? Say, seven?"

"Seven is good."

"Wear those pink undies, will ya?"

* * * *

Contrary to his request, she didn't wear her pink undies. She wore a plain white bra and panties. Not that he'd find out this evening. Not knowing where he would be taking her for dinner, she'd settled on dressy casual.

She wore a sleeveless white silk shell, covered with a bronze colored button up silk blouse that brought out the bronze highlights in her hair. She'd bought that shirt for that very reason. Her white silk slacks hugged her hips and butt, she wore the bronze blouse untucked. The sandals she wore were a shiny color that matched her blouse, and she'd painted her toenails to match.

She gathered her hair up into a scrunchy, and allowed it to cascade over her shoulders from a high ponytail. Some mascara and a red-brown lipstick completed her look.

Andi, home because Josh was not in town, looked up from her book when Marianne came out of the bathroom. At her friend's wolf whistle, she laughed.

"You need earrings and perfume, Andi suggested. She disappeared into her bedroom. After a few minutes, she returned with cubic zirconia studs and a bottle of her favorite perfume. While Marianne put the earrings on, Andi sprayed her liberally with the musky vanilla scent.

"Now you're perfect. Should I give Nick a crowbar so he can pry your legs apart? Andi quipped as she stepped back to look at her taller roommate.

"You're a riot. Marianne rubbed her sweaty hands together.

"Nervous? Andi guessed. "You haven't been on a date with a real man since ... Have you ever been on a date with a real man?"

"You should go on tour as a one-woman comedy show."

Andi tucked the small perfume bottle into her hip pocket. "Relax and have fun."

When Nick arrived, Marianne was glad to get away from her roomie. Andi found great sport in giving her advice about what she should do and how she should act. The buzzer sounded as Andi started to demonstrate how to spread her legs. She sprinted out the door.

Surprised when she appeared at the street door, Nick looked her over. She opened the door to step out, and bashed him in the head with the door.

"Ouch! He slapped his hand to his head, nowhere near the injury.

"If you weren't so busy gawking, I wouldn't have hit you with the door."

"You look fantastic, Nick said, his admiration plain in the tone of his voice. "Shall we?"

"Where are we going?"

"You like seafood?"

She nodded. He held the car door open for her. She watched him round the car. The casual pants he wore molded his butt and thighs. She swallowed hard. She couldn't take her eyes off him once he was in the car.

"You just gonna stare at me all night? Amusement rippled through his words.

Even over the scent of the perfume she wore, she caught a whiff of his after-shave, a woodsy scent with a hint of musk. She shook her head in an attempt to clear the sensual fog wrapped around her brain. "No."

"How was your week?"

"Busy. Since I contracted to supply your law firm with coffee, I've had more business than I know what do to with. Three more law firms have contracted with me, and another called as I closed up shop this afternoon. How about you?"

"I've made a reputation for myself, being a cutthroat divorce attorney. I have more clients than the other divorce lawyers in my office. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not, Nick answered.

"Still jaded, huh?"

"It's hard to see anything good or beneficial about marriage when all I see are disintegrating marriages. I feel like a damned vampire - always going for the jugular."

She adjusted the vent, so the cool air didn't blow right on her face. "I could see how that would be a problem for you. Have you thought of changing?"

"Changing? Oh, specialties? Don't know if I'm up to establishing myself again."

They arrived at the wharf, and she waited for him to come around and open her door. He offered a hand, and she took it. A warm breeze redolent with the tang of fishy saltwater buffeted around them. The screech of sea gulls pierced the air. The restaurant sat perched on the wharf.

"Don't you feel a bit weird? she asked as they strolled across the boardwalk to the building decorated with a large wooden replica of a boat's steering wheel.

"About what?"

She wiggled her shoulders, feeling unsure under his slanted gaze. "Sneaking around."

"Why did you say yes?"

"I don't know. I was drunk, she stopped to gaze out over the bay. She'd always loved the look of the Golden Gate Bridge arching between the peninsulas, and the vast expanse of blue water. "I don't make good decisions when I've been drinking."

Nick hooted with laughter. "I don't know a single person who does, Marianne."

Fishing nets and trophy fished mounted on plaques decorated the restaurant. Boat oars, life rings and life jackets also dotted the walls, and suspended from the high ceiling in the center of the restaurant was a row boat.

"So, why did you ask me out, Nick? And don't try to feed me the baloney about how you liked my pink panties."

They were seated under the suspended rowboat, much to her discomfort. She waited for it to fall on her head. After taking their drink orders, the young man who'd seated them left. Nick opened the large menu, giving her the impression he used it as a shield. At last he answered.

"I tried going back to my old ways after Desiree left me for Ernie. I found that women of her ilk held little appeal. I thought it might be nice to date someone who was capable of carrying on an intelligent conversation."

"And you chose me because your mother liked me? She examined her menu with a single-minded intensity usually reserved for performing, say, brain surgery.

"No, I chose you because you puzzle me. You see right through me. Believe me, I fought with myself for a couple of months about whether to ask you out or not. After all, my mother thinks you're good enough for me. Going out with you could be akin to eating lima beans."

She laughed at his comical tone. "I don't think she approves of me any longer. I'm not a virgin, remember? She couldn't wait to tell you."

"Believe it or not, I don't take a woman's sexual history into account before I ask her out."

"Are you sure? If I had to guess, I'd say you'd prefer to date women ... with a past. Chaste maidens don't seem to be your style."

"Out comes the rapier sharp tongue."

"I'm trying to captivate you again."

"It's working. Nick winked.

Their drinks were served and they gave their orders for dinner. Alone again, Nick swirled the liquid in his small glass. Marianne took a sip of her fuzzy navel.

"What do you want from me, Nick? Like flood water building behind a dam, Marianne couldn't have stopped the question from popping out. Despite all their idle chatter, she couldn't help but wonder why he'd asked her out on a date. What had possessed her to agree?

"Nothing. Let's just have a good time. What happens, happens."

The night was still in its infancy when they left the seafood restaurant, stuffed to the gills.

"Movie? Nick suggested.

"Sure."

After the romantic comedy, Nick drove her home. Marianne invited him up to her apartment. She found the door locked, and the lights off when she opened the door. Andi's bedroom door stood closed.

Marianne bumped into Nick's chest when she turned. His arms came up around her, to steady her. But he didn't let go. Instead he lowered his head to her upturned face and placed his lips on hers. She felt a spark she'd never felt before as his lips explored hers. The kiss became more insistent, and she opened her mouth under the pressure of his. His tongue swept in, tracing her teeth, mating with her tongue.

She wrapped her arms around his waist. Nick cupped her cheek with one hand, and she shivered when his fingers traced her jawline. His hand went lower, caressed her neck, then inched toward her cleavage. She pulled back.

His eyes were glazed and unfocused when she looked at him. She conceded she knew the feeling well. He lit an unfamiliar fire in her, yet she'd felt herself responding on the most primal level. The knowledge he wanted her, and she wanted him propelled her to back away from him.

"Uh, thanks for a nice evening, she stammered.

"You're welcome. We should do this again. So you may continue gathering evidence against me. So, tomorrow night?"

With her brain screaming no, her heart thudding a cautious tattoo, she went with her gut feeling. "What time?"

"How about five? Early meal, a stroll around Golden Gate Park..."

"Followed by sex? Her voice sounded hoarse to her ears.

"We've had our first date. Sex is acceptable, if that's what you want, Nick teased. "But it's not a requirement."

"I'm not ready to have sex with you, she declined.

"Fine. We'll just neck in the car."

"You're impossible."

"It's nice to know I've met my goal. I've always wanted to be told I'm impossible by a beautiful woman."

She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the sensual glint that still shone in his brown eyes. "Good night, Nick."

"Wasn't there a TV show in the Seventies where all the characters said good night to one another at the end of the show? I feel like I'm living that now. Good night, Marianne."

The tension broken by his quip, she took a tentative step towards him. "This must remain a secret from our mothers."

"Shouldn't be a problem for you, since you still aren't speaking to yours, Nick pointed out, running a hand through his hair.

"How would you know that? Aghast, she bristled with challenge.

"My mother told me."

"Your mother needs to get a life, she retorted.

"I agree. One more kiss and I'll leave you for the night, Nick negotiated.

Warily, she watched him come closer. He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, and lifted it so he could reach her mouth. She melted when his hot mouth covered hers again. Her breasts crushed against his hard chest when she closed the short distance between them.

His hand rested on the swell of her butt and his fingers kneaded the flesh through the thin silk material of her pants. When the kiss ended, she found herself alone in the middle of the living room. Her butt tingled from his parting love tap. In a daze, she moved to lock the front door behind him, and leaned against it when she'd locked it. He closed her eyes dreamily as she reveled in the fire he'd started in her.

One lump or two with that coffee?

CHAPTER SEVEN

Marianne awakened to find Andi beside her bed, a tray balanced on one hand. "Good morning, sleepyhead. Andi placed the tray on the bed.

Marianne looked at the tray as she sat up. Two steaming mugs of coffee and a coffeecake with two forks sticking out of the top filled the small metal tray. "Mmm ... coffee."

Andi sat on the bed, her legs crossed . She grabbed a fork and started at one end of the coffeecake. "So, tell me everything."

"We had a nice seafood dinner, saw a movie, and he brought me home."

Andi looked disappointed. Her sable brows drew together as she stuffed a large piece of cake into her mouth. After she swallowed she said, "You kept your knees clamped together? Why? If I didn't have Josh, I'd sure be tempted to mess around with Nick."

Marianne shook her head at her irrepressible roomie. "You would, too. He kissed me."

Andi's face brightened and she straightened her shoulders. "This has possibilities. So...?"

Marianne looked out the window, her body reacting to the memory of the two kisses. "He could give lessons."

"Oh yeah? That good, huh? Started melting some of the ice inside you, Princess?"

Marianne wadded up a napkin and tossed it at her friend. Andi retaliated with a pillow. Shrieks of laughter filled the room as the pillow fight grew more out of control. The tray sat forgotten on the bed as they hopped about, swinging the feather-filled pillows at one another. Then Marianne kicked one of the mugs of coffee, spilling the hot liquid on her bed and foot.

"Ouch!"

Andi dropped her pillow as Marianne bounced to her butt on the bed, her burned foot in hand. "Uh oh! Andi dashed from the room. She returned moments later with a wet washcloth.

Marianne stuck her foot out so Andi could place the cloth on it. Marianne gasped when the cold rough nap of the terrycloth rag touched the burn. "Oops, she moaned. "Guess I stuck my foot in it this time."

Andi lifted the rag to peer at the injury. "It's blistering. Come on, I'll drive you to the emergency room."

"I should get dressed. She stood to hop over to the closet. She grabbed a skirt off a hanger and stepped into it, holding the fabric well away from her foot. She stuck the T-shirt she'd worn to bed into the elastic waistband.

The emergency room was busy. They found a seat before Andi approached the window to sign in and get the necessary paperwork. Marianne hoisted her wounded foot to the empty chair next to her and rearranged the cold compress.

"Marianne Wilson?"

She looked up, to see an older woman peering down at her. The concerned expression the woman wore deepened the wrinkles on her round face.

"Yes, she replied. Marianne knew she recognized the woman for some reason. The bright blonde hair, the deep purple expensive-looking clothing, and the floral perfume choking the air pricked her memory.

"Do you remember me? I'm Mrs. Horton. I know your mother from bridge. Did you hurt yourself badly, dear?"

The name clicked as Marianne remembered this woman from years ago, when her mother had been active with a group of women who gathered once a week to play bridge. "I just burned the top of my foot."

"How painful. I hope it isn't serious, dear. I'm waiting here with my husband. He's having chest pains."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Marianne replied, thrilled to see Andi return with a fistful of papers. "Mrs. Horton, this is Andi Levitz. She's my roommate."

An invisible shutter closed over the older woman's face as she looked back and forth between Marianne and Andi. "I see. Well, dear, I hope your foot is better soon."

"Thank you. Your husband, too. After Mrs. Horton was a safe distance away, Marianne laughed. "She thinks you're my girlfriend."

Andi chuckled as she handed the papers and pen over. "Fill these out, darling, and I'll take them back to the window for you."

Two hours later, Marianne heard her name called. She pushed her way through the people to the door where a nurse waited. "I'm Marianne Wilson."

The nurse listened and wrote as she described the injury. Then Marianne sat patiently while the nurse took her temperature and check her blood pressure. "That's it, a doctor will be with you in a few minutes."

The nurse stuck the file in a holder attached to the door. Marianne adjusted herself on the examination bed. The paper covering crinkled and tore beneath her.

"I want to see my daughter."

No. It couldn't be. She tugged at her ears to clear them. The voice came again at a higher pitch, more determined with an edge of hysteria. "I'm Mrs. Wilson. My daughter is Marianne Wilson. I know she's here."

A different nurse peered into the room. "Your mother is here. She's making a scene. Can we send her in or should we call security?"

Marianne considered telling the nurse to call security, but knew if she did, her mother would just go to her apartment and wait there for her return. That wouldn't do, as once her mother became ensconced, there would be no getting rid of her, and Marianne had a date with Nick late in the afternoon.

"Let her in, she said with a sigh.

Three months apart didn't seem enough to be enough to Marianne when her mother swept into the room in a cloud of floral perfume, saying in dramatic tones, "Oh, my baby . I came over just as soon as I heard. How come I had to hear you were hurt from Mrs. Horton? Never mind. At least someone had the presence of mind to call me. What did you do? Does it hurt? Have you been waiting long? Let Mother see."

Marianne lifted the cold compress, and gave her mother a good gander at the ugly red skin covered with blisters. Madge put a hand over her mouth. Her round blue eyes widened as she looked up in horrified sympathy.

"How did you do that?"

"Andi and I were having a pillow fight. I kicked the coffee over on my foot."

"Carelessness. I'll wait right here with you. I can call your father from your apartment."

"My apartment?"

The weak protest fell on deaf ears. Madge fluffed herself up and patted her perfectly coifed hair. "I'm going home with you. Someone will have to take care of your foot."

"I'm a grown woman, Mother. I can do it myself. She could see right away she'd offended her mother. It didn't bother her. Much.

"You don't want your mother to take care of you? Are you still angry with me? How much longer do you intend to punish me?"

"I'm not punishing you, I just ... I just needed some time to come to terms with the fact that I can't trust my own mother."

"Of course you can trust me, Madge exclaimed.

"I don't want to argue with you, I really don't. I told you something in confidence, and you couldn't wait to tell Mrs. Galanapolous. Who then couldn't wait to tell her son. You have no idea, do you, how humiliating that was for me?"

Madge looked away. Marianne inched back on the bed so she could stretch her legs out, but she also kept a close eye on her mother. She didn't miss the quick flick of her mother's hand at her eye, like she'd dashed a tear away. Perhaps Marianne had made her point after all.

"Mom, it's just a burn. A nasty one, yes, but its not going to require bed rest. And what will Daddy do on his own? Mentioning her father might be dirty pool, but it had the desired effect. Still, Marianne saw the war her mother waged within, when she blinked her worried eyes.

"If you're sure. Your father will starve if I'm not there, Madge admitted. "I'll call you this evening, to see how you're doing. Do you mind if I wait with you? At least let me hear what the doctor has to say."

"Okay, if it will make you feel better."

Given leave to stay, Madge bustled about to the side of the bed. "Why don't you lay down? I'll adjust the compress, and find you a blanket."

Ten minutes later, Marianne almost shouted with joy to see a middle-aged woman wearing a white coat come into the room. She'd had all the fussing she could stand, and if her mother urged her to take another sip of that awful water, she didn't know what she'd do.

"I'm Dr. Agnosti. I see you burned your foot. Let's have a look."

The doctor's hands were gentle. "That looks nasty. It's swollen. Hot coffee did this? The outside edges are first degree and the center is second degree. Looks about five inches wide. We'll need to irrigate the burn, put an antiseptic cream on it and bandage your foot. I'll give you a prescription for bacatricin. You'll need to keep it bandaged. You should follow up within two days with your own physician, to have the blisters checked for infection and pus. Don't pop the blisters. That's a surefire way to invite infection."

"Is it going to hurt? Madge grasped Marianne's hand in a tight, anxious grip.

"Not much. I'm sure the burn is painful. I'll send the nurse in with ibuprofen. You can take more ibuprofen after four hours for the pain, and keep your foot elevated for the next couple of days Dr. Agnosti addressed her comments to Marianne.

Madge grasped her hand like she'd just been told she had two seconds to live. Marianne thanked the doctor as she tried to pull her hand from her mother's death grip.

"I'll go find a nurse, and we'll get this taken care of in a flash, the doctor reassured her.

* * * *

Andi steered Marianne into their apartment. Marianne wobbled on her legs, her head and foot competed to cause her pain. Her mother's presence while the burn was cleaned and bandaged caused the pounding behind her forehead. She rubbed her temples in an effort to alleviate some of the pressure.

"Oh! Wouldn't it be awful? She rounded on her roomie as a horrible thought occurred.

"What?"

"Mother finding out I'm dating Nick. We have a date tonight."

"You'll be a fun date tonight, Andi predicted. "You want me to call him?"

"No. I'll call him. I have his number."

Andi snorted. "I'll bring you the phone. Go lay down. Your mother will have heart failure if she gets here and finds that I didn't send you straight to bed."

"Oh! We can't tell her, you know. It's a secret. Her headache confused her thoughts.

"That's right. I'll keep it as quiet as if I were a member of the British Secret Service, Andi promised.

"You don't look like double oh ... double oh ... Heck!"

"Hardy har-har. Bed."

Marianne went into her room. She intended to fall face first on the bed. The large coffee stain in the center of the bed stopped her. She grabbed a pillow and headed back for the living room. The recliner would do just as well.

"Here's the phone. Why are you out here?"

"Coffee in bed."

"Duh! Andi slapped a hand to her forehead. "I'll take care of it. Here's the phone."

"I need my addy book. When Andi returned with the slim book, she placed her call. An answering machine fielded the call. She blurted her message, "It's Marianne. I got a boo-boo. Mother's picking up my prescription and bandages, so don't buzz if she's still here. She parks her maroon Buick as close to the front door as she can. The rear window is filled with stuffed animals."

The phone slipped from her hand into her lap after she turned it off with her thumb. Her eyes felt heavy. Her foot throbbed under the bandages. She snuggled under the fleecy blanket as her eyes closed.

A loud voice awakened her. Disoriented, she looked around. The loud voice screamed again, "I'll take the bedding home with me and wash it myself. I'll bring it back when it's done. Marianne! You're awake. Go back to sleep, darling. I'll see you later this evening."

Dread filled her as her mother left, but she couldn't remember why it should.

* * * *

Quiet voices awakened Marianne. Late afternoon sunlight brightened the living room and she felt hot under the fleece blanket. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles. A nice long stretch ... Ouch! Why did it hurt when her foot rubbed against the blanket? Then she remembered and cold fear filled her body.

"Andi? Who are you talking to?"

Andi peeked out of her bedroom. She opened the door wide upon when she saw that Marianne was awake. "Your date arrived early. He, um, hasn't been home today, so he didn't get your message. No sign of your mother, though."

She put the recliner into its upright position and tossed the blanket aside. The pulsing headache had ebbed. She limped across the floor, intent to see for herself if Nick was really there. He appeared behind Andi, his face lined with worry.

"Are you alright? I don't suppose you're up to an evening out, he said. He maneuvered around her roommate to swoop Marianne up into his arms.

"I'm fine."

"Sorry I didn't get your message. He carried her to her bed. Marianne marveled at how easy it seemed for him to haul her around in his arms.

The bed had been made. Marianne recognized her extra blanket. "Mother is coming back this evening."

"I heard. Should make the evening rather interesting."

"Oh, but you can't stay! Alarm filled her voice as her heart thudded against her chest.

"Don't worry. I moved my car where your mother won't see it, if she should recognize it at all. Andi's staying in, so she'll head your mother off at the pass. We've called for pizza to be delivered. We'll watch movies in your room. When Mama arrives, Andi will give the prearranged signal."

She felt heat infuse her face as it dawned on her just how high school all these shenanigans were. "It's like I'm back in high school, pretending to spend the night at Andi's while going out with the boyfriend Mom didn't like."

Her shaky laugh brought an answering smile to Nick's lips. He gazed down at her with those coffee-colored eyes which flashed his amusement. "Me, too."

She watched him make a big production out of angling the TV just so. Not to mention the care that went into choosing the perfect movie and arranging the pillows on the bed so they could recline in comfort. Once she settled onto the bed, he propped her injured foot up on a pillow.

Andi brought a pizza, a beer and a soda in just as the previews on the video started playing. "End of waitressing. You're on your own."

Nick handed a piece of pizza to Marianne. "Everything but the kitchen sink and anchovies."

"Mmmm, she murmured. She inhaled the spicy aroma of the pizza, savoring the delicious scent while she nibbled.

They decimated the pizza before the movie was half over. Nick took the box out to the kitchen and returned with another beer and soda. He handed the soda to her before he rounded the foot of the bed. She couldn't help but watch as he stretched out on the bed.

"Set the soda down, he suggested.

Ill at ease, but curious as well, she put the glass on the little table next to the bed. He encircled her waist to pull her towards him, urging her to recline. When she rested against him he seem satisfied.

Heat spread in concentric waves through the thin cotton of her T-shirt from where his hand rested against her hip. She found it difficult to concentrate on the movie. His breath stirred her hair, sending shivers down her legs. With her back pressed up against him, she started to feel overheated. And worst of all, the man didn't seem to realize the effect he had on her. Her bottom brushed his thighs as she wiggled to get away.

Nick groaned into the top of her hair. "Don't wiggle, sweetie."

The realization their closeness aroused him filled her with a sense of amazement. Merely touching her like this hadn't aroused her other lover. "Am I bothering you? she asked.

"Not at all. You just feel good."

She shifted to her other side so she could study him. He winked. The waning sunlight made it difficult to see much more, but she didn't want a light on now.

"Well? His voice deepened with passion.

She responded to his sensual appraisal, and reached out to touch his face while a longing heat infused her body with an electrical tingling.

"Is this a typical second date with you? Moving to intimacy? Oh, she shouldn't have asked that question. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"I don't know about typical. Nick rubbed his hand over her thigh.

"But you like physical relationships."

A dimple appeared next to his mouth as he smiled. "Sure. But you don't. There's no rush."

She narrowed her eyes at him in her attempt to gauge his sincerity. "You aren't going to bug me about it?"

"What good would it do? You're skittish to begin with due to a number of factors, including your mother's opinion of sex. He placed his index finger against her lips when she tried to protest.

He continued, "Let me show you there's nothing to fear, nothing dirty about love-making. There's much more to sex than the act itself."

She closed her eyes when his hand smoothed the skin on her cheek. His fingers stroked the sensitive skin on her throat, down her arm to the hem of her shirt. She grabbed his hand when he tried to slip under it, stopping his progression. His hand rested against the curve of her hip as his thumb rubbed circles in her flesh. After a while she released his hand, and he traced a path up to her unbound breast.

She gasped when he palmed her breast to knead it with a gentle movement. He pulled her to rest on top of him. She rubbed against him; his hardness strained against his jeans at the juncture of her legs.

"Mama alert!"

Marianne jerked away from Nick in a haze, her vision cloudy with desire. He put a finger to his lips, telling her without words to be silent. She buried her face in his shoulder when she heard her mother's loud voice in the living room. Ooo, but he smelled good.

"I'll just peek in on her, Madge's voice could be heard through the door now that the movie had ended. A blue light reflected off the white walls of the bedroom.

"I haven't heard her move about for a while, Mrs. Wilson. She could be asleep, Andi's voice sounded just outside the door.

Marianne rolled off Nick and he got to his feet. He walked soundlessly to the closet, closing the door between him and the bedroom. Light from the living room spilled into the bedroom as Madge opened the door to peek inside. Marianne remained motionless, her eyes closed. She willed herself to breathe as if she were asleep, and held her breath when she couldn't.

"She's not even covered up, Madge whispered in a hiss that could wake the dead in Los Angeles. Marianne heard the floor creak as her mother entered the room. She felt the whoosh of displaced air when her mother fluffed the comforter over her, then settle over her still form.

The door clicked when it was closed. She let out a long sigh of air, grateful to be able to breathe again. She waited until she could no longer hear her mother's voice before she spoke.

"All clear."

Nick came out of the closet. Marianne rolled to turn on the bedside lamp. They made eye contact and began laughing at the absurdity of it all.

"How long do you think we'll be able to keep the fact that we're dating a secret? he asked.

"Oh, with any luck, until the day she dies, Marianne replied. She crossed all her fingers.

"All the secrecy does add an element of fun to this, Nick admitted. "But we're going to get caught, sooner or later."

"Then let's make it as later as we can. I don't think I can stand the I told you so and See, your mother knew what was best for you all along that will undoubtedly become her new theme song. Besides, we just started dating. We don't know what the future holds."

His eyes became somber. "I know my future doesn't include marriage, Marianne. I'll be up front about that from the beginning. I can't believe in an institution that can be dissolved without a second thought or a bit of sorrow."

"And I can't see myself settling into the rut my mother lives in day in day out, twenty-four/seven/three sixty-five. Three sixty-six leap years. Or being dependent on a man for his paycheck. That's why Java is so important to me. It's mine and I'll never have to rely on anyone else for income."

"One day at a time then? He held his hand out, making a bargain.

She shook his hand.

"Now then, he said, his tone brisk. "Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

Lions and tigers and sex-talk, oh my!

CHAPTER EIGHT

"So, how was he?"

Marianne gagged on her coffee. "I beg your pardon?"

"He spent the night, didn't he? Don't tell me nothing happened. I wasn't born under a rock yesterday you know, Andi stirred sugar into her coffee.

She cleared her throat. "I won't say nothing happened, but not what you're thinking."

"What did you do? Tie your knees together?"

She snorted. "Hardly."

"Not talking, eh? Andi pouted.

"Cut it out! You know you don't want all the gory details, Marianne admonished. She moved the sugar bowl away from Andi, disgusted at the amount of sugar her friend liked to put in her coffee. "Why don't you just drink the sugar with a spoonful or two of coffee in it?"

Andi made face and stuck her tongue out childishly. "Okay, you're right. I don't want to know every little detail. Do you think this might turn into a relationship?"

A one-shoulder shrug. "It has the potential. He feels the same way I do about settling down. But I know he won't be happy with a platonic relationship either."

Andi reached across the table to pat Marianne's hand. "Honey, I know your experiences with sex were awful and your mother has the most outrageous notions about intimacy. But trust me when I tell you, making love with the right man is sheer heaven on earth."

"That sounds like a prelude to something else. She gazed shrewdly at Andi.

The other woman colored and sipped her coffee before she responded. "Josh wants me to move in with him."

"Do you want to move in with him?"

"I think so. He's going to cut back on his traveling now that his business is well-established. He's even found a little house on the hillside to buy for us."

The happy expression Andi wore tugged at Marianne's heart. "That's wonderful! Marianne meant it, too. Everyone deserved their happily-ever-after.

Andi looked up, her blue eyes hopeful. "I don't want to leave you in the lurch."

"Don't worry. Java's doing well enough now I can manage without a roomie. Is Josh The Guy ?"

Andi's dreamy look answered the question. Marianne lifted her coffee cup to make a toast. "To Andi's finding The Guy ."

They clinked their cups together. "Thanks, Marianne."

* * * *

Marianne held the phone away from her ear as her mother screeched, "What do you mean you can't come for a family dinner Saturday night?"

"I have a date, she admitted, her words slow and reluctant. "Yes, I'm quite over Ernie. No, you don't know who he is. He's a guy who came into my shop a few months ago."

She tossed the phone onto the bed and ignored the loud sputtering that emanated from the instrument. Once she couldn't hear her mother's voice any more she picked it up again.

"I'm still here. You don't honestly expect me to listen to you holler in my ear, do you? Look, I have to go to my doctor before I go to work. No, don't bring me any lunch. I'll just pop on over to the deli next door."

She sighed as her mother launched into another diatribe. "Mother, I'm hanging up now. I'm going to be late. No, my foot doesn't hurt much. Good-bye."

Another over-cast Monday morning. The doctor appointment didn't take any time at all so she wasn't too late opening the shop. A line of people waited for her, however. Her diehard coffee patrons.

"What did you do to your foot? one lady asked.

Marianne glanced down at her foot. "Burned it with hot coffee."

"Hazards of the job, another customer joked, invoking laughter.

"Come on in. It will be a few minutes before the coffee ready."

Half an hour later, she'd served the last of her customers. She took advantage of the brief lull to check her displays. The phone rang while she worked.

"Good morning, Marianne."

"Hi, Nick. A thrill of pleasure cascaded through her.

"You sound like you're in a barrel. His disembodied voice filled the little shop.

"I put you on speaker phone. I'm stocking. What are you doing? I thought you had a court date."

"Leaving in five minutes. Wanted to check to see how your foot is. You went to your doctor today, didn't you?"

"Appointment was quick. Foot is fine."

"You're breathing hard. How am I supposed to concentrate in court after listening to your heavy breathing?"

She laughed at his wicked question. "I'll stop breathing."

"We still on for Friday and Saturday night?"

"Yep. Had to wiggle out of dinner with the folks. Mother isn't too happy. Told her I have a date with a guy who came into my shop a few months ago."

There was a short pause before Nick's voice sounded over the speaker again. "You were telling the truth. I did come into your shop."

"I know. What's your mother up to these days? Has she hired a private eye to follow you about?"

A warm chuckle sounded before he replied. "No, not yet."

"Good luck in court, she offered.

"Thanks, his voice was dry. "I'll call you tonight."

"What are we going to talk about?"

"No talking. I thought I'd just breathe hard and heavy in your ear for a while."

She snorted loud enough to be heard over the phone lines. "Bye, Nick."

"Bye, Marianne."

Amazing how that man could turn her name into a sensuous caress. She rubbed her cheek where Nick liked to touch her, imagining he'd been there, running his fingers over her face. She hung the phone up, checked the coffee and made ready to face her next wave of customers.

* * * *

Nick tossed his briefcase onto the plump leather sofa which startled the college student who sat at the other end. The young woman appraised him, an eyebrow arched just so.

"I'll share the couch with you. Come here often? The girl purred.

"Ever since I started dating the owner, he replied as Marianne joined him. She thrust a cup of latte into his hand.

"Lucky her. Too bad for me, the girl said, her disappointment evident as she gathered her belongings. She left a few minutes later.

Alone, Nick set his latte down and grabbed Marianne. He pulled her tight against his body. Their long, lingering kiss sent tingles all the way down to her toes.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Finished a hearing in court and I was driving by. You wanna go grab a bite of dinner? I have to go back to the office to prepare for another hearing in the morning."

"Sure. Doug can close shop. Marianne was glad she'd let the young man talk her into hiring him. He was worth more than his weight in gold, and he'd only worked for her for a couple of days.

Doug waved a cleaning rag at her. Someone had spilled their coffee all over one of the café tables and left the mess without a word. "Sure. See you tomorrow, Boss Lady."

It took a short moment to gather her things together. She found Nick had gone outside to wait. "Where to, Big Guy?"

"You're just saying that so I don't go chase down that little co-ed. He grinned at her, and took her hand and they strolled down the busy sidewalk.

"You're right. I could see you were poised to leap out the door after her. I'd be worried, though."

"Worried about what?"

"She's so young, and you aren't. You wouldn't be able to keep up with her. It's a well-known fact men reach their sexual maturity in their late teens. She blinked at him, feigning guilelessness.

He stopped to peer at her through gathered eyebrows. She couldn't help the giggle that escaped at his pretense of sternness. "You think I'm old, do you? Past my prime?"

"Almost dead, she confirmed.

"Darling, if I was that old, I'd've keeled over already. You're too damned sexy. Why, just the sight of you in your pink undies could give a man a heart attack."

She blushed, feeling her face heat all the way to the roots of her hair. Nick pumped his left arm up to punch the air with his fist. Marianne laughed out loud.

"Victory to the man. He winked at her.

"You're bad. With a capital bad , she teased. She threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped an arm around her and dropped a kiss onto the top of her head.

"Let's have a bite of Italian food, he suggested.

They continued on, hand in hand down the hill with their heads together as they chatted.

* * * *

The sun sat on the horizon when they emerged from the bistro. The last sun rays of the day reflected off the tall buildings which made the windows look like shining silver mirror. The reddish haze the dying sun cast into the sky gave everything a surreal glow. Shadows descended during the walk back to where Marianne parked her car that morning.

"Want a ride to your office?"

"Anything to spend more time with you, Nick agreed.

It took all of five whole minutes to drive to his office, a block and a half from her car. She pulled up outside the building. Nick reached over and shifted the car into park.

"Thanks for dinner, again."

"Quit thanking me. You can show your appreciation in other ways."

She tensed he leaned towards her. Wary, she eyed him. "I thought you weren't going to rush me."

"I'm not. I want to kiss you."

"But you want more."

He sat back against the door and folded his arms over his chest. "Marianne, I don't know what's going on in that head of yours. You are a beautiful, intelligent woman. You have a killer body. No man with a pulse is going to be immune to your charms."

"Ernie never pressed the issue. He mentioned it once, I said no. End of discussion."

"Sweetie, I said a man with a pulse. Not one of those doormats you like to date."

"Ernie wasn't a doormat!"

The gust of air Nick expelled ruffled her hair. "Answer me this, Marianne. Did you feel in control all the time when you were with him? Did he always bow to your wishes?"

"Of course I always felt in control with him. And I don't remember if he always bowed to my wishes or not."

"Liar. He did. You're stressed now because you don't feel in control around me, do you?"

"How can I, when all I think about is how I feel when you kiss me or touch me?"

"And how is that? Nick cross-examined her.

She glanced away from his intense gaze to stare out the front windshield as she tried to put the words together that would explain in a clear enough manner. "I get hot all over."

"That's it?"

"No. I just don't know how to say it, she defended herself. She fanned her flaming hot cheeks with one hand. "Look, you didn't grow up with my mother telling you..."

"Telling you what? That sex is for married people? Only the man enjoys it and women just have to put up with it? Sex isn't dirty, you know."

"Did you loose your virginity in a drunken haze, in the backseat of a car?"

"As a matter of fact, it was in the backseat of a car. I wasn't drunk, though."

The humor in his voice felt like a slap in the face. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

He laughed. "I was dating Judy Bailey. We were both sixteen and mad for each other. Her mother hated my guts, my mother felt the same way about her. I bought my first car, just after our sophomore year ended. We parked up on one of the hills, looking over the city. After we necked for a while, we got carried away."

"So you lost it together."

"Nope. She wasn't inexperienced. Yes, I did enjoy it. That's all we did on our dates all summer. We'd go grab a burger from the drive-through window, and go find some place to park. We'd eat first... he waggled his eyebrows at her. "She moved away just after our junior year began. After a few months I had another girlfriend."

"Did you sleep with her too? Marianne knew her demand sounded accusatory, but she didn't care.

Nick shook his head. "Nope. She was saving herself for marriage, or so she told me. Didn't matter one way or the other to me."

"Then."

"You're hung up about this. What happened to you? His challenge ended on a soft note, but the intensity wavered between them nonetheless.

"I don't want to discuss this any more. Marianne said with all the finality she could muster.

"Too bad. Let's get this out in the open. You were drunk and in the backseat of a car."

"It hurt, she whispered.

"Of course it hurt, he answered gently.

"He never called me again. That small admission cost her more than she wanted to admit. She took great gulping breaths of air as remembered shame flooded through her entire body. She rested her chin on her chest, not wanting to see Nick's expression.

"You felt used."

How astute of him. "Yes. She kept her voice low. This topic topped her list of things she didn't like to discuss.

"Was that your only experience?"

"No. She didn't know how much more of this she could take.

"The next one wasn't any more pleasant, was it? His probing question made her flinch. She felt his hand on her knee, a soothing, warm reassurance.

"No. He told me I was frigid, she confessed.

She heard the seat creak under N

Ah, so many possibilities.

CHAPTER NINE

The phone was ringing when she opened the door to her apartment at two o'clock in the morning. Nick followed her inside. "Andi's not home."

"How do you know that?"

"She'd be sitting in the living room, glaring at the phone. She's a light sleeper. The phone quit ringing as she switched on a lamp. The little red light on the answering machine blinked rapidly. The phone rang again.

"May as well get this over with. She sighed.

Nick rubbed her shoulders while she lifted the phone from the cradle. "Marianne!"

The voice on the other end, undeniably her mother, screamed as she put the phone to her ear, wincing. "Mother."

"Do you know what time it is?"

"Two sixteen."

"In the morning, her mother stressed. "I've been beside myself."

"Why are you calling? Did you leave all the messages on the machine? You killed my tape."

"Is that how I raised you to talk to your mother?"

Marianne shrugged her shoulders under Nick's massaging fingers. "What's so important it couldn't wait until a decent hour?"

"I saw Nick Galanapolous leave the restaurant."

Oh great. The proverbial stuff was going to hit the equally proverbial fan. "No kidding. I didn't see him myself. He must have been there after I was."

"Who were you with?"

"What?"

"Who were you with? her mother repeated. Madge's voice brightened as she continued, "Were you with Nick?"

"Why would you think that? I was with my date."

"A date I never saw."

"Linus was in the car when you came in, Mother."

"I didn't see any men sitting in cars talking on sail phones."

Marianne heaved a gusty sigh. "Then you parked in a different part of the parking lot."

"I want details about this Linus."

Hades. What had she gotten herself into this time? Then it struck her. She knew who to describe as the mythical Linus. The man Sheila had referred to as ‘Mr. Yummy’ at the nightclub at the beginning of the week.

"Mother, he's over six feet tall. He works out and takes care of himself. His hair is sandy blonde and his eyes are ... green. He's an ... accountant. We met at a nightclub a few weeks ago. Sheila introduced us."

"Sheila? Sheila Landowe - thatSheila? Are you still friends with her? Honestly, Marianne, what kind of man do you think he could be if he's hanging around her? I know you think I'm stupid, but I know what kind of girl she is. She's loose ."

She bit back a chuckle. Loose did describe Sheila well. Her mother continued her tirade. Marianne shifted the phone to her other ear.

"I think you could do better. You're ashamed of how you met him. It's all very clear to me now. You shouldn't see him again."

"I told him that tonight, Mother. We are just ... incompatible. She nudged Nick with her elbow when he nuzzled her neck.

"You're just saying that because you think it will make me shut up. I'm wise to you, my dear. I've been your mother for a very long time."

"I've had no other mother in my entire life. Are we done? I'm tired. I'd like to go to bed."

"Me, too, Nick whispered in her ear. She dug her elbow into his stomach again.

"This is a fine way to leave things. It's too bad you didn't run into Nick. He's such a gentleman."

The gentleman in question now had his hands under her shirt, tugging at her bra. Marianne shivered when he ran his hand down her spine. He patted her backside before he thrust both hands back up under her shirt.

"If you say so, Mother. I don't know him well enough to make such a judgement."

"And that's a shame. You had your chance. You can't blame me for letting such a catch walk right out of your life. You haven't heard from him, have you?"

"He comes into the shop now and again, but that's it. I've turned customer service over to Doug. I don't even speak to Nick."

"Must have been very disappointing for him - you not being a virgin and all. I'm sorry to say Chloris was heartbroken. And I don't blame her. I wouldn't want my son to marry a woman with loose morals."

"You don't have a son, and you just called me a slut, Mother, Marianne snapped. She rubbed her forehead.

"I did no such thing! I don't use words like that. Madge sounded offended.

No, Marianne thought, you just bury them and believe no one is actually smart enough to catch on. "Whatever. Mother ... it's now two thirty-one. Good night."

"We aren't finished with our discussion."

"I was finished the instant you called me a slut. Good night."

She put the phone back on the charger, then unplugged the cord from the wall. The phone had just trilled again. "Sorry. The only explanation I have for her is that she's insane."

Nick pulled her back into his embrace, his warm breath tickled her ear. "I understand. My nut of a mother has called me every other day to bemoan the lack of your virginity and to commiserate with me over your unsuitability to be my wife."

"You don't say."

"She doesn't believe me when I say I don't want a wife in the first place. In the second place, virginity doesn't even make the top ten requirements."

"You have requirements for a wife you don't even want?"

He propelled them towards her bedroom. "Of course I do. Would you like to hear them?"

"I wouldn't miss this for anything, she agreed.

"Let's get comfy first, he suggested. He turned on the bedroom light.

"You staying?"

"If I'm allowed. Nick waggled his eyebrows at her.

"We aren't having sex. Best he understood that right away.

He grinned at her wolfishly. "I know. But I like holding you, among other things."

She harrumphed. "I'll go change in the bathroom."

"Don't take too long."

She returned ten minutes later, clad in a sleeveless cotton nightgown that fell to her bare feet. Nick, already in the bed, whistled his appreciation. She clicked the light off and dove in next to him.

He brought his arm up to encircle her shoulders, and she cuddled against him. There wasn't another sensation in the world she could think of that she liked nearly as much as she enjoyed the feeling of his arm around her, his chest against her back. She entwined one of his hairy legs with hers. His free hand rested on the swell of her breast and they lay there together in the darkness.

"You gonna tell me this list of yours?"

He cleared his throat. "Yes. The requirements for being my wife. She must be well-fed and curvy. His hand caressed the curve of her hip and returned to cup her breast. "She must laugh at all my jokes."

"Even the lame ones? she asked.

"Behave, he ordered. "Yes, especially the lame ones."

"I see. That's a pretty stiff requirement."

"There's another good one. She must be able to meet my stiff requirements."

"Uh-huh. She wiggled up closer to him, her bottom brushed his thigh.

"You're teasing me, he accused.

"I'm not a tease. I intend to follow through. One of these days. She yawned, which ruined the effect she was after.

"I know, sweetie. Do you want to hear more or are you about to fall asleep? Nick massaged her shoulders, his thumbs making slow circles against her skin.

"You're so warm, she whispered. Marianne rolled onto her side so she faced Nick. Her eyes already adjusted to the darkness, so in such close quarters she could see him pretty well.

"No, I'm hot. Hot for you. Hot and patient. Nick caressed her cheek as he arched closer to her so that they touched again.

"Good thing you aren't hot and impatient . Marianne's voice wobbled. His breath tickled her forehead.

"Only when we get to the point of making love. Then I'll be impatient. Until then, this is good enough."

"Honest?"

"Honest. I'm a lawyer. You can trust me."

"We could do more than just cuddle. She wanted to take the words back as soon as she'd said them. What would she do if he said Hey! That's a great idea! - she was clueless to all the possibilities. What would he expect?

Nick's hand traced the curve of her leg as he felt his way, searching for the hem of her nightgown. Her nightie had hiked up to her knees. His fingers tickled when he pinched the fabric to draw it up slowly, until it bunched around the tops of her legs. At his gentle push, Marianne rolled onto her back. The bed shifted beneath her when he moved to straddle her hips.

He tugged at her garment and pulled it off over her head. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly when he turned on the bedside lamp, unable to watch his slow perusal of her body. His breath tickled the sensitive skin behind her ear as he leaned over to speak to her. Pressed intimately together when he leaned forward, coherent thought was all but impossible. How could she form a sensible idea with his ... self ... squeezed up against her?

"Please look at me, he whispered to her. "You are beautiful, sweetie. What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know. Her hoarse admission was barely audible.

"Then let me show you what the possibilities are, and you can stop me when you'd like."

"That's not very fair to you, she protested. "I don't know if I'm prepared to return ... er ... um... The last sensible thought in her head fled when he buried his head between her exposed breasts. His tongue worked in circles around each mound as he rubbed the peaks that pebbled to attention. She fisted her hands at her sides, resisting the urge to grab his head and end his sweet torment.

He looked up at her, his expression pleased. "I'm not asking you to. Cold showers were invented for that very reason. Relax."

Words became unnecessary. His hands roamed over her exposed flesh. Goose-bumps rose in their wake. He blew on her tender skin. She bucked against him. Nick rolled her onto her stomach, and lifted her thick tresses out of his way to give him access to her neck. She jumped out of her skin when he nipped her earlobe, then traced her ear with the tip of his tongue. His chest hair tickled the delicate skin on her back. She shivered. Strong, warm fingers kneaded her shoulders, down her back and over her bottom.

Deft fingers relieved her of her purple flowered panties before he nudged her over once again. Now completely bare, in the dim glow of the night table lamp, she felt the first vestiges of panic. Before she could speak, his mouth found hers. No tender kiss, this. In this kiss lived raw sexuality. Sensuousness. He demanded all she could give and at the same time he gave everything he had. His tongue imitated the act of lovemaking, plunging in and out, stroking her tongue, tasting her soul, before he diverted his attention elsewhere.

At the height of the crescendo he created, she couldn't withstand much more. The oddly musical sound of her blood crashing through her ears in time to the rapid beat of her heart lulled her back to earth.

The night had gone black except for the rainbow colored flashes of light whizzing around behind her eyelids. Darkness greeted her when she opened her eyes. She became aware of the muscled arms that surrounded her, of Nick's chest as it rose and fell beneath her ear. The pounding of his heart overtook the whooshing sound of her own heart. A gentle hand stroked the back of her head in slow, even movements. She marveled at the sensation of his thigh between her legs as she wrapped her legs around his.

"Sweetie?"

"Mmm... Words were still beyond her.

"As much as I enjoy holding you, I need to go take that shower now. He lifted her away from him to settle her on the mattress beside him. The bed jostled as he left it and her.

He left the bedroom door open. She could hear the shower running. With him gone, her warmth left. She shivered. What had she done? She'd behaved like a, like a ... She couldn't bring herself to say the word.

Selfish. She could say that much. Selfish had to be her middle name. A man stood in her shower, letting cold water cascade over his incredible body - a chest that undulated with sinewy muscle, hard thighs. She pictured him running his hands through his hair, water droplets spraying around. She wondered if she could wrap both hands around his upper arm, when the muscle flexed. Oops! Get back on track. This man was taking a cold shower because she couldn't ... Ah heck! She didn't even like to think it.

"You're cold."

Marianne started. Lost in her dreamy thoughts of the man, she didn't hear him return. Selfish , she told herself. Here he was, dripping and frozen from the shower, and he was concerned about her being cold. She turned away from him, too ashamed of herself to face him.

"Hey! Nick grabbed her hip, halting her motion. "That's not allowed. He climbed onto the bed and brought her against him. He used his foot to drag the blanket up to where he would reach it with his hand.

"Talk to me, Marianne. What did I do wrong? Worry colored his words.

Twist the knife one more time, add more salt, she thought. "Nothing. Not you. Me."

"You did nothing wrong. His worry changed to adamance this time.

"I'm selfish, she mumbled.

He kissed the back of her head. "Sweetie, you think too much."

"Did you ... enjoy yourself?"

His hand cupped her shoulder. "More than I can say. Marianne, I didn't do anything I didn't want to do. I thought I should thank you for letting me indulge in lovemaking with you."

His words salved her conscience. He had proven himself trustworthy, for he hadn't pressured her for more. Her eyes fluttered closed, feeling safe in his embrace.

* * * *

Nick listened to her fall asleep. Her bare skin against his drove him almost beyond his ability to control himself, but he had promised her he'd abide her wishes. What he itched to do this moment, aside from enjoy holding her, was to find the two idiots who'd used her so badly she now was frightened of intimacy. Oh, and strangling her mother might be fun too, for the lunatic ideas she'd saddled Marianne with over the years.

He couldn't help the swell of pride he felt building. He'd pleasured her beyond her past experiences. The knowledge he'd kept his brain where it belonged - in his head, added to his sense of accomplishment. It was just a matter of time before she came around. He could wait. He was a patient man. She was worth the effort.

* * * *

Marianne awakened feeling more relaxed than she'd felt in years. Longer than she could remember, if the truth be told. The kudos went to the man who still slumbered beside her. Naked. She was naked, too. Instead of jumping right out of bed to find something to cover herself with, she snuggled closer to Nick.

"Good morning."

She started. When had he awakened? "Good morning. I thought you were still asleep."

"I was until you wiggled into my side."

Marianne didn't know what to say. But luck was on her side this morning. Nick didn't seem to be at a loss for words.

"Glad you're still in bed with me."

Crimson on olive skin wasn't pretty. This she knew from past experience. First her mother would publicly humiliate her, then tell her how unbecoming the red staining her face was for someone of her classic Mediterranean coloration.

"She blushes. Like a fine wine, Nick teased. He nudged her with a bare knee.

She clutched the floral sheet to herself in an attempt to hide. Nick wouldn't permit it for one second. When Marianne tried to leave the bed, he trapped her, holding her hands together in one of his, above her head.

"Where do you think you're going? This is the most pleasant wake-up I've had in months. Maybe even years."

"Oh sure, and next you're going to tell me I resemble the goddess Athena."

"Never met the goddess. I suspect she'd pale in comparison. Nick scooted close, and released her hands once he'd covered her body with his own.

"Silver-tongued devil."

"Tongues? If you insist. His mouth seared hers. His tongue probed her closed lips with wicked tastes that inflamed her. Marianne sighed, giving Nick the opening he wanted.

His hands stroked her, making her writhe. The fitted sheet twisted beneath them, popping off the corners of the bed when she elevated herself and him off the bed in her response to his bold touches.

Then Marianne felt the cool air rush to fill the space Nick vacated. She turned on her side towards him, noticing he sat on the edge of the bed with the top sheet over his lap. His back arched and the early morning light danced off the sweat that glistened there.

She knelt behind him. His shoulder became a pillow for her forehead as she wrapped her arms around him. "I'm being unfair to you. Self-loathing echoed in her whisper.

Nick pulled her around to sit in his lap. "No, sweetie. I'm being unfair to you. I'm pushing when I shouldn't. I promised you I'd respect your wishes, and I will."

"Meaning we can't do this again, she guessed, reading the words he refused to verbalize in his eyes. "Until I'm ready to follow through. All the way."

"I'm not a marble statue, he admitted. "And you're too tempting. You've been hurt enough, I'll not add to it."

Too good to be true! Her brain screeched in protest. No man is that good . She made no complaint when Nick swung her around and laid her in what remained of her bed. When he curled himself around her, she began to breathe again.

His finger lifted her chin. She started, shocked to find him so close to her. His mouth descended to claim her lips with unexpected gentleness. A chaste kiss, yet her insides turned to gelatin.

"You are anything but frigid, sweetie. You need to be stroked the right way. Do you trust me?"

To her surprise, she found she did. "Yes."

"I'm attracted to you in a way I've never been to another woman before. I want to know every part of you. I think you feel the same way, Nick told her. "We will sleep together, it's just a matter of where and when. But there is no rush. So, what do you want to do Friday?"

She felt relieved. He'd been calm about accepting her neurotic stance on sex and he still wanted to go out with her. "I'm in the mood for Greek food."

"I'm Greek, he announced liked this were a news flash of grave importance to the continued existence of the entire world.

"But you're not food."

"Not yet, anyway."

She coughed. Nick leaned over to her again, and kissed her forehead. He caressed her cheek as he drew back.

"I don't understand why you're coughing all of a sudden. I'll call you later."

Her wheezing attack ended when he slammed the car door. She watched him saunter with a jaunty hop to his step to the building's entrance. She sat for several more minutes after he'd gone inside. Then she lunged for her cell phone .

Did someone call for a sexorcist?

CHAPTER TEN

The music in the club echoed off the mirrored walls. The floor pulsed with the beat of both music and dancers. Marianne wended her way through the throng of milling people, on her way to the back corner booth. Hidden behind a wall that shielded the booth from the view of the rest of the club, it was the perfect place to meet friends. Sheila sat scrunched in the corner of one seat, nursing a drink. "Hey!"

"Hey yourself, Marianne returned. "Glad you're back from Brazil. How long were you there this time?"

"For a couple of days. That shoot's over. I'm starting a new gig next week. So, what's up? You made it sound so urgent, Sheila prodded.

"The guy I'm dating wants to have sex."

Sheila grinned. "I have yet to meet a guy who doesn't want to have sex. With men, honey, it's all about Dick."

"He's willing to wait until I'm ready."

"The problem is you don't know when you'll be ready? Sheila nodded. "I could just shoot your mother. Sounds like you found a keeper. Lucky you. But let's talk about your mother."

"Why? She makes me nuts."

"Exactly my point. Remember the sleepovers we'd have at your house? How we'd always have a Disney movie to put in to watch until she went to bed? Then we'd get out the good ones."

"She could never understand why we were so tired the next day. Good for us she slept like the dead. Marianne balled Sheila's cocktail napkin in her hands.

"Thing is, she infected you. Her goal was to keep you from ever having sex. She did that by instilling in you the belief that sex is nasty. Dirty. Wrong. What you need is a sexual exorcism."

"I beg your pardon?"

Sheila's face lit up with mischief. "You heard me. We need to drive the Sexless Demons your mother instilled in you out, so the Sex Demon can take up residence. When's your next date with Mr. Wonderful?"

"Friday. But it's our third date. I'm not comfortable having sex with him so soon. We don't know each other well enough."

Sheila waved a hand out as if she were dispelling smoke. "You'll know when the time is right to get horizontal, but the time will never come unless we rid you of the Sexless Demons. So, Thursday night, your place. Get lots of liquor. Ooo ... Mr. Yummy is coming on over. I'm gonna go dance."

"I'm going home. I'm going deaf from the noise, and mute from screaming at you to be heard."

"See you Thursday. Seven. Sheila rose to her feet to greet Mr. Yummy.

Marianne shook her head and rolled her eyes as Sheila plastered herself against the gorgeous hunk of manhood who'd come over to ask her to dance. She slid out of her seat and fought her way to the front door.

The bouncer at the door nodded to her as she brushed past. "Pity you're going home alone, babe."

She ignored the comment, grateful to be out of the club. Sheila always did pick the oddest places to meet. But that shouldn't be a surprise after all these years.

"Sexual exorcism, indeed. She snorted as she climbed into her car. She nosed into traffic as the thought occurred that Sheila's wacky idea might actually work.

* * * *

Thursday evening rolled around. Marianne returned to her apartment, a large paper bag filled several bottles of liquor cradled in the crook of her arm. Andi was already home and running the vacuum cleaner. The top of the squat coffee table couldn't be seen for all the candles, and the couch had disappeared under an enormous pile of pillows.

Cinnamon, cloves and citrus filled the air just enough to entice the senses. Marianne took her bag to the kitchen. She set each bottle on the counter next to the glassware that sat out, ready to be used. The vacuum cleaner stopped.

"Hey! The girls are bringing dinner. You are to go take a long, hot bath. Sheila dropped by with a present for you earlier and instructed me to tell you to use it during and after your bath, Andi hollered.

Marianne trooped to the living room. Andi finished winding the cord on the vacuum. As she wheeled it to the closet where it was kept, she pointed to a golden foil-covered box. Marianne took the box into her room.

She peeked into the box, feeling like a kid who got an unexpected surprise. There was a bottle of bubble bath, shampoo, conditioner and shower gel - all of the same deep, richly scented fragrance. A bottle of matching body lotion and cologne spray completed the first set of items she pulled out of the gold-flecked white tissue.

She found three folded garments at the bottom of the box. The satiny material shimmered copper, bronze and gold. The garments were tiny. She stared at them in disbelief. There were a pair of thong panties, a spaghetti-strapped chemise and a sheer robe that might, just might, fall to the tops of her thighs. There was no chance in Hades this robe would cover her ample chest, however.

"Am I supposed to wear this? she called.

"No! That's for you to wear after the Sexless Demon has been banished ... when you're with Nick. Wear shorts. Be comfy! Andi shouted back at her.

She gathered her goodies up in her arms, heading for the tub. Several minutes later, steam billowed about the small room, steaming the mirror. She added the bubble bath to the water. Marianne left the water to run, and went to the tiny separate shower to wash and condition her hair. Five minutes after that, she wrapped her hair in a towel, then sank into a tub overflowing with musky-floral scented bubbles.

"Hey! Did you drown?"

Marianne jolted awake. The hot water lulled her into a little nap. Andi's pounding and shouting had awakened her.

The water had cooled considerably. She washed with the shower gel, rinsed and stepped out of the tub. She dried off and slathered the lotion all over before fastening the towel around herself, sarong-like. The air in the hallway was much cooler than the steamy air in the bathroom, and even though it wasn't cold, she still felt goose bumps raising on the tops of her shoulders.

When she emerged from her room, she saw Sheila and Thea talking with Andi in low voices. "Hey."

The conversation stopped. Sheila smiled as she joined them. "That's the sexiest scent I ever found. So now you've had an infusion of Sexy-Scent . Now it's time for Sexy Food."

"I'm in trouble, Marianne muttered. "You're talking in capital letters."

Thea hugged her. "Nope. We're helping you. Sit. We'll bring the food out to you."

She couldn't believe her eyes when Andi returned with a plate filled to the rims with hotdogs, strawberries, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, oysters, and cheese crisps.

Sheila came out with two filled fluted glasses. "Champagne, to compliment the strawberries. Wine, a full-bodied Chardonnay, to compliment the cheese crisps. I adore a full-bodied wine."

"You adore full-bodied men, too, Andi retorted.

"The fuller the better, Sheila purred. She stretched with all the nonchalance of a well-satisfied kitty cat, which caused teenagerish giggles all around.

"This is rather, um, interesting, Marianne replied, after many deep breaths to calm the giggles. She waited until the other three returned with their own plates and drinks before she ate anything.

"Strawberries and champagne is romantic, Mare, Sheila explained. "The whipped cream and chocolate is for fun . She licked her lips.

The women giggled. "Cheese crisps and hot dogs? Marianne prompted.

"They're so ... phallic."

Thea, Andi and Marianne screamed with laughter at Sheila's sultry sigh. Sheila added, "The buns ... I think that's self-explanatory."

"I like a man who has squeezeable buns, Andi announced. She dug her fingers into the hotdog bun.

Marianne lifted her hotdog. The bun fell apart in her hands. "I prefer a man with buns you can squeeze without worrying they'll fall apart if you get carried away."

"She's getting into the spirit of things. Sheila hiccoughed. She lifted her bun. "This is what Man thinks he's endowed with, she picked up a crisp with her free hand. "This is what Man really has!"

Marianne reached for her champagne as she choked on the strawberry she'd just dipped first in chocolate, then in whipped cream and popped into her mouth. Andi pounded her on the back. Irrepressible, Sheila grinned. "Now, I'm going to teach you about the mechanics of sex."

"I'll need more champagne."

Thea jogged to the kitchen and returned with a couple of bottles. She refilled Marianne's champagne while Sheila waited. When Thea sat back down, Sheila began her lesson.

She held an empty hotdog bun aloft in one hand. "This is Woman - The Vagina if you will. She lifted a hotdog with her free hand. "This is the Man. The Penis. Sex is where the Man slides his Penis into the Vagina of the Woman. For this to be an enjoyable activity, preparations must be made."

Sheila placed the hotdog back on the plate so she could finger some relish. She smeared the relish into the hotdog bun. "These preparations are more familiarly known as Foreplay. During Foreplay, the Woman becomes Excited and Lubricated."

The women held their breaths as Sheila squirted mayo into the center of the bun. "Once Lubricated, it is easy for the Man, the hotdog appeared again. "To gain Entry, sliding smoothly inside."

The three women burst into applause as Sheila took a big bite out of her hotdog. She nodded in acknowledgment of their accolades. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

"And I thought Elvis was dead. Andi giggled. Sheila threw a pillow at her.

"Are you loosening up yet? Sheila asked.

"The alcohol helps a lot. Marianne held a glass up in a toast.

"Alcohol is great for freeing you of inhibitions. Sheila winked and arched her eyebrows..

"I know that. How do you think I lost my virginity in the first place? Marianne demanded.

"Luck? Sheila downed the last couple of inches in her wineglass.

"Very funny."

Stuffed on the weird assortment of food and drink, the women took turns using the bathroom, then returned to spread blankets and pillows on the floor. Andi put a movie into the DVD player. They stretched out side by side on the floor. Sheila passed out candy sticks.

"More phallic symbols? Marianne inquired. She tore the plastic wrapping off the candy with reckless abandon.

"No. This is to practice licking technique."

Marianne almost put the candy down. "What are we watching?"

"A naughty, naughty movie. What else? Andi demanded.

Silence reigned through the entire movie. When it was over, Sheila passed around more candy sticks as Andi put another movie in to play. After the second movie ended, Sheila bounded to her feet.

"How you feeling, Mare? Sheila asked.

"Buzzed."

"Repeat after me, Sheila instructed, flinging her blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Repeat after me. Marianne mimicked Sheila and flung her hair over her shoulder.

The others snickered. Sheila forged ahead. "Sex is good."

"Sex is good."

"Sex is fun."

"I like sex."

"You like sex. Marianne couldn't help but tease. Sheila really did deserve the taunt.

"We all know I like sex, Mare! Say it, just like I said."

"I like sex."

"I'm gonna have sex with my hunk-a-hunk-a manly man."

"Good. We're finished. Sheila beamed. "Do you feel sexorcised?"

"I'm sure I will in the morning, she replied, pulling a blanket up around her shoulders.

* * * *

"Oh no!"

"What? Nick twisted around in his seat to see what Marianne stared so intently at over his shoulder. His dark head whipped back around, his mouth quirked so she couldn't tell if he was as horrified as she was or if he was amused.

"They're going to see us. She glanced about in a frantic panic. Her hair billowed around, blinding her for a moment. "What are we going to do?"

She pushed the hair out of her eyes, astonished to see Nick's empty seat. Then she felt something bump her knees under the table. She reached for her drink to soothe her dry mouth. She hoped the maitre-d’ would take her parents in the opposite direction, but her luck had deserted her.

"Marianne! What a surprise! Her mother swooped over to her table. "You aren't here alone."

"Er, no. Belatedly she realized Nick's empty plate sat right where he'd left it. With the evidence plainly visible, she had no choice but to prevaricate. "I'm not. But he had to take an unexpected phone call. A business call. He took it to the car, so as not to disturb anyone."

"That's considerate. Nothing worse than having to sit next to some idiot gabbing away on one of those sail phones, her mother proclaimed, glaring at a nearby diner who had a phone to his ear.

"Cell, Mother, not sail. Anyway, I'm going to pay and join him in the car."

"You're going to pay the check? Dark eyes wide open, her mother's aghast statement echoed through the restaurant and drew the attention of several diners.

"It's not an issue. We thought we'd go dancing. A new club is opening tonight and we need to get there early."

"I'll walk to his car with you. I'd like to meet him. Madge nodded.

"Aren't you on your way to be seated? You shouldn't keep the maitre-d’ waiting. Daddy looks like he could eat his hat."

"Your father can go be seated. I want to meet your date."

"I'm sure Daddy would like to meet him too, but honestly, Mother, this isn't serious enough for the whole meet the parents thing. She jumped a bit in her seat when Nick tickled her ankle.

Her mother's brow furrowed. "Why are you ashamed to introduce your mother to your young man?"

"I'm not ashamed of you."

Like a dog with a bone, her mother pressed on. "If you are ashamed of the young man you are dating, then you shouldn't be dating him."

"Madge, quit pestering her, her father suggested. "She's a grown woman after all. If she doesn't feel comfortable making introductions yet, then let it drop. If it's serious, I'm sure she'll bring him around to the house."

Marianne resisted the urge to shout, "Hooray for Dad! as her mother finally let it go. She didn't miss the flash of disappointment on her mother's face or the stubborn tilt of her chin. So much for her hope to not have to rehash this at some later time. Her father took her mother by the elbow and pulled her away from the table. After one last lingering glance over her shoulder, her mother allowed herself to be led away.

Relief flooded over Marianne as her fear of being discovered with Nick ebbed. She waited for several long minutes before she craned her neck to see where her parents had been seated. They were nowhere to be seen.

The maitre-d’ materialized at her table, offering the check on a little tray. His broad grin was infectious and a twinkle in his black eyes teased her. His dark moustache smiled at her. "I put Mama and Papa at the back of the restaurant, he informed her, his Mediterranean accent thick with amusement. "So they will not see you and your young man make a mad dash for the door."

She put eighty dollars on the tray and handed it back to the man. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome. Please join us again. You are very entertaining."

Great. She was entertaining. At that moment she felt more like a bread stick than an entertainer. Under the table, she could feel Nick nibbling her knees. "I'll see you at the car, she whispered.

Italian espresso, a fine accessory for any fashion.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Nick stood on the steps of the courthouse while another satisfied client wrung his hand in gratitude, gushing praise.

"Mr. Galanapolous, I can't thank you enough. I'd pay twice your fee just to see the look on that cheating bastard's face again."

Nick nodded, smiling the cool smile he used for just this situation. His dark sunglasses concealed his true inner thoughts and the fact that he wasn't looking at the now former Mrs. Wyatt T. Anderson, but instead stared at the back of a very familiar woman. When Mrs. Anderson took her leave, he remained rooted to the cement step, waiting for the slender blonde woman to turn around.

Almost as if she knew someone watched her, the woman turned. Nick's heart lunged for his feet. The long blonde tresses fell in a straight shining mass on either side of a delicate heart-shaped face. That bow-shaped mouth, hard and unsmiling as it was now, stirred memories he'd rather didn't surface. His muscles contracted. Damn. She still had the same effect on him as she had eight years ago.

The Bitch was back.

He set his briefcase at his feet before it slid out of his sweaty hand. He reached into his jacket pocket for his cell. Marianne's chipper voice greeted him and he told her he'd be there soon. He strode away from the specter of his past, putting her firmly in her place in his mind.

Marianne met him at the entrance to her shop, her brow furrowed in concern. She held a large cup of coffee in one hand, and from the aroma surrounding her, it was a dark roast she offered him.

"Hi. You okay? You sounded funny on the phone."

"Saw a ghost. He wondered why he burdened her with this.

"A blonde one?"

"Why do you ask? Nick sipped at the coffee as they stood framed in the doorway. The sounds of cars racing past, some beeping, made it hard to have an intimate conversation.

"She's across the street, staring at us."

He forced himself to keep his gaze on Marianne. Without giving away her intentions, she pushed him out into the middle of the sidewalk, amid pedestrians who scurried around them to alter their paths to avoid smacking into them. Her arm snaked up around his neck so she could draw his head down towards her. She reached up to palm his chin, and planted herself all but on top of his shiny Italian leather shoes. Marianne drew one leg up behind him and hooked her knee around his thigh.

When her mouth touched his, all thoughts of the Bitch fled. Instead, he felt his briefcase slide from his hand, heard it hit the pavement at their feet. The coffee followed as he wrapped his arms around her, one hand on the tender swell of her bottom, grasping her through her soft denim shorts. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, cautiously at first, but as he responded, her attempts became hotter. No woman had ever kissed him with such a mixture of sweet innocence coupled with fire.

The sound of applause brought him out of the fog she'd created. She dropped her head to his shoulder to hide her face. He suspected her face burned bright red, hot as the sun. "Careful, he whispered to her, stroking her back. "Someone will think we're lovers."

"Then my work here is through, she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Vixen, he accused her. He kissed the top of her curly hair before he turned her around, and urged her back into her store with a gentle tap on her backside. He paused long enough to pick up his briefcase and coffee cup, then followed her inside.

Customers had unabashedly glued themselves to the front window, and they greeted the lovebirds with an enthusiastic round of applause. One of the regulars, a businessman, shouted, "Now that puts the personal back into personal service!"

"Is there an extra charge for a kiss with the coffee? another comedian called.

Nick grasped Marianne by the elbow before she could flee into her little office. "Sorry, gents, but no. She's all mine."

Good-natured grumbles filled the air as the patrons resumed whatever it was they'd been doing before the Great Kissing Scene on the sidewalk. Standing together, they both heard the cool voice saying his name.

"Nick, what a surprise."

"Suzanne. I thought you lived in Europe."

"I've been back for about nine months, she replied. Her gaze zeroed in on Marianne.

"Marianne, this is Suzanne Bloom. Marianne owns this store. Reluctant to give his ex any extra information, he didn't volunteer more. Marianne didn't need any grief from the likes of Suzanne.

"Would you like something, Suzanne? Marianne queried. "I have an extensive Italian espresso menu, among other things."

"Oh, I don't think your Italian espresso could even compare to the real thing. I lived in Italy for seven years."

Nick saw Marianne's jaw tighten at the patronizing tone Suzanne adopted. "Is that so? Marianne shrugged. "Whatever. Nick, are we still on for this evening? You promised to cook for me."

Torn between the desire to swing Marianne into his arms and kiss the breath out of her or laughing in Suzanne's shocked face, Nick didn't reply right away. Marianne ran a finger down his chest, just to the left of the buttons of his shirt.

"Steak sound good? he asked. He trapped her questing finger in his hand.

"I like red meat. Marianne licked her lower lip and Nick thought he'd explode. "My place? Seven?"

"Just as planned, he confirmed.

"Good. I'll be the one wearing a chef's hat. Marianne pointed to the top of her head and gave him a sly wink.

Two could play that game. "As long as that's all you're wearing."

"Won't I need an apron? This question, while whispered, blasted through the air. Marianne's sultry voice coupled with the mischievous arch of her eyebrows tested Nick's resolve.

"I'll be your apron. He wrapped his arms around Marianne for a moment. She arched against him, all but purring like a satisfied feline.

"Deal. Suzanne, I'd say it's been a pleasure, but, it really hasn't been. Marianne stood on her tiptoes, planted a chaste kiss on his lips, and turned to walk away.

He watched the gentle sway of her hips, ignoring Suzanne as she stood there, making attention-getting sounds. When Marianne disappeared into her office, he knew just how to handle his ex.

"You sound like a little pig when you make those noises. If you'll excuse me now, I must return to my office."

"You can't think I'd fall for her contrived display, do you? she snarled.

"Ah. The jealous claws come out at last. Bravo for keeping them sheathed this long. I don't care what you think, Suze. I stopped caring the day I learned what you really are."

"Liar. You care and you know it. Why else are you still single, if you're not pining for me?"

"Could be the fact that I'm a divorce attorney, and all I see is the worst of what marriage will do to people. Quite frankly, I'm grateful I dodged that bullet with you. But don't mistake my single status for monkhood. I am not a monk. How can I be, with my gorgeous Marianne?"

"You remember, don't you, how we used to rock the bed? Suzanne turned seductress with a tempting lilt in her voice.

She still thought highly of herself, that much was evident, but he wasn't a young man to be impressed by the fact someone so sexy paid attention to him anymore. He didn't miss her one bit. She wouldn't believe that unless he resorted to cruelty. Loathe to be mean for the sake of being mean, her next words changed his mind.

"I'll bet no woman you've been with since me has rocked your world like I rocked it, Nick."

"You were a good ride, Suze, from a boy's perspective. I'm a man now, with adult preferences. From what I remember of you, you aren't even in the running anymore."

He left her sputtering. He spied Marianne again as he turned to leave. He smiled at her and let himself out. He looked through the window, to catch one last glimpse of her before heading back to his office. What he saw gave him the biggest chuckle he'd had in years. Marianne tripped and the liquid in the cup she held doused Suzanne. The sight of Suzanne dripping in what he hoped was Italian espresso did wonders for his grim mood. He felt a weight lifted from him, and he walked on, more determined than ever to make Marianne his.

* * * *

"You have no place to barbecue? What am I supposed to do with my grill?"

"I don't know. Marianne shrugged. The little barbecue he held looked barely able to hold a hot charcoal fire.

"I know. I'll grill the steaks in your kitchen. You have a fan over the stove, don't you?"

"Of course, but you can't be serious. We can't barbecue in the kitchen!"

"Why ever not? Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I lost it when you showed up with that little ... what's it called? Little Barbie ? Is it from Australia? Marianne squinted at the dull black metal cover.

"No. But Barbie fits easier on the cover. He strode into the kitchen, arms loaded with the grill, and several shopping bags. He set everything down on the counter next to the sink. The barbecue fit on top of the stove, which left him enough room to turn the steaks.

He stacked the charcoal briquettes in the bottom of the grill, followed by wood chips soaked in a smoky hickory. He lit several matches and stuck them into the pile of briquettes strategically.

"If you used starter, we could eat some time tonight, Marianne offered. She leaned against the fridge. Where was her camera when she needed it? Nick presented such a sight as he puttered around his grill.

"I don't want to eat steak flavored with fire accelerator, do you? Be patient. Make yourself useful and peel the corn. He pointed to the bags heaped by the sink.

She made a face at him but moved forward to do his bidding. Soon the kitchen filled with the delicious aroma of smoky hickory. Nick turned on the stove fan, so they wouldn't suck smoke.

"Hey! Smells like someone's barbecuing in here! Andi popped her head into the kitchen. Her jaw dropped.

Marianne glared over her shoulder. "Shut up. He made me help. You here for dinner?"

"There's plenty, Nick added. He set the grill over the charcoal. He nudged Marianne out of the way so he could rummage through the bags.

"If Marianne isn't doing the cooking, Andi accepted. "Josh is here, too."

"Oh, Lawdy. Best call for pizza. Once he's done filling his plate, there will be nothing left to eat, Marianne complained, her good-natured ribbing gained her the desired scowl from her roomie.

"Very funny. Andi stuck out her tongue.

"You're the one who's always telling me about his appetite being so outrageous, Marianne folded her arms across her chest as her friend choked.

"I meant his sexual appetite, and you know it. What's gotten into you? Andi demanded, her demeanor brightening as an apparently delightful thought occurred. "Don't tell me you let Nick get into your panties."

"No, I didn't, Marianne threw a wet dishtowel in Andi's direction.

"I have so been in your panties, just not the way she's thinking, Nick protested. He set several small bottles to one side, then took over the task of cleaning the corn. Within moments, he washed four ears of corn and wrapped them in foil with hunks of butter, chopped onion and garlic.

Marianne couldn't take her eyes away from his hands as he wielded a knife, chopping the onions and garlic so quickly his hands were a blur. Just thinking what those hands could do to her, what those hands had done to her, made her hot, left her breathless.

Andi left them, and from the sounds coming from the living room, the TV had been turned on. Marianne waved a stiff hand before her face in a futile attempt to cool the fever that burnt her up from the inside out.

Nick looked in several cupboards until he found a plastic measuring cup, unaware of Marianne's yearnings. "I'll whip up a quick marinade. I prefer to soak my steaks overnight, but we don't have time for that, if we want to eat tonight."

When he got no response, he glanced up from his task. A delighted smile danced across his features. "What did I do?"

"Chop. Robbed of her ability to speak, she could say no more than that.

Surprise mingled with his happy expression. "That's all?"

She nodded, then shook her head. He kept at his task, thankfully, which gave her time to figure out what to say next. "I, you ... That is to say..."

He finished measuring the various liquids into the cup. He stepped toward her and held a hand out towards her. She took it, and he pulled her to stand flush against him. She breathed deeply. He smelled of onion, garlic, hickory and several other mouth-watering scents.

"How far do we go tonight? he asked her, his lips moving across her forehead.

"I don't know. At least as far as we've already been. That's what I was thinking about while I watched you choppy-choppy."

"Good enough for me."

"I'm getting closer to being ready, Nick. Marianne felt the sudden urge to explain. She didn't want him to walk away from her now, especially since she was so close to capitulating to his charms, as it were. Regrets weren't her roommate of choice, and she realized that she'd regret not sleeping with Nick. Even if it did take her time to work up the courage to take the ultimate plunge with him.

His smile became gentle as he cupped his hands on either side of her face. "I'm not going anywhere, Marianne. When you're ready, I'll be the man in your bed. Make no mistake about that."

"How terribly arrogant of you, she teased. Relief pulsed through her with every beat of her heart.

"Yes, I suppose it is very arrogant of me, but it's how I feel, sweetie."

"You called me when you first saw her, didn't you?"

He took the abrupt change of subject in stride, but he didn't release her. He kissed both her eyelids before he answered. "Yes I did. I thought of you right away."

"I'm glad. You needed me. I can't tell you..."

He hushed her. "Don't worry about Suzanne. She holds no power over me any more. You have that privilege. Time to turn the corn."

She felt bereft when he stepped back from her to tend the foil-wrapped corn on the grill. She rubbed her arms as a chill settled over her. Moments later, Andi charged into the kitchen, her eyes wild with a mixture of panic and amusement.

"Your mother is at the door downstairs. Josh will come in here and pretend he's barbecuing. Nick, you can hide in my room, since Dragon Mama never goes in there. Go splash some water on your face, Mari. You look like you just got laid."

Nick turned the tongs over to Josh, who promised solemnly not to put the steaks on the grill. Marianne saw Nick to Andi's room. One look around, and it was obvious why Madge never went in there.

"It's a mess, but it's a clean mess. Marianne pushed him inside the room. She closed the door then went into the bathroom. Her mother could talk all night, given the opportunity, so she needed to find a quick way to get rid of her.

She heard her mother's voice calling her as she turned the water in the shower on to emit a cool spray. She hurried out of her clothing and stepped into the shower. The shock of the cool water made her gasp, but she stuck her head under the stream falling from the showerhead.

"You're in the shower? Madge hollered through the door. "Andi, why didn't you tell me she was in the shower?"

"She must have just gotten in, Andi replied. "Your mom's here. You gonna be long?"

Marianne twisted the hot water lever. "I just got in. Long day at the shop. My back aches. I thought I'd stand under the hot water for as long as it lasts."

"Half an hour, she heard her roomie tell her mother.

"I can't wait, Madge raised her voice again. "I can't wait, Marianne. I'll call you later. Your father and I have reservations for supper at the club."

"Sorry, Mom. Have fun!"

"Should you really be letting Andi's boyfriend barbecue in the kitchen?"

"No place else to do it. Tried it in the stairwell once, and the fire department came."

"I'll call you."

"I heard the first time. She sagged against the side of the shower when her mother didn't scream back through the door at her. Minutes later she heard Andi singing something about the witch being dead.

Nick came into the bathroom. He handed her a towel when she stepped out of the shower. She stepped into the towel, pink from head to toe, and not just from the heat of the water.

"I'll go put the steaks on, he announced.

"Good. I'm starving."

"I can tell just by looking at you that it's been a while since your last good, home cooked meal."

"I don't cook."

"That's a matter of opinion."

* * * *

Moonlight shone in through the partially open blinds, casting a white haze over Marianne and Nick as they lay entwined together on her bed. He lifted a strand of her hair; the ends curled around his fingers. She shifted to fit herself into his side.

"You're very patient with me, she said, her voice soft and lazy. "I'm ready to make love with you."

Nick said nothing, content to play with her dark, curly hair for the moment. Marianne propped herself up on her elbow. Uncertainty washed over her as she peered down into his face.

"Don't you want me any more?"

"Oh, sweetie, I still want you. But our first time will be special. Not spur of the moment. I don't want you to have any regrets afterward."

"What are you doing next weekend? She cozied back up to him. She loved having his arm around her shoulders.

"Making love with you."

Take the next base...

CHAPTER TWELVE

Any reservations Marianne had about her Friday night date with Nick vanished when he arrived that evening. She dressed up, pulling out an expensive, yet rarely worn black dress she hid in the back of her closet.

Made of rayon, the shoulders were sheer, and the material continued to expose the top of her cleavage. The lace over-laid bodice hugged her ample bosom, clinging down to the skirt, which flared just below the fitted waist. The skirt pleated to swish seductively around her knees. Sheer black hose and black sandal pumps completed the outfit.

She surveyed her appearance in the mirror on the back of her door. Her eyes rested in critical speculation on her chest. Nothing left to the imagination there. She examined her swept-up hair, hoping the pins and hair spray would be enough to hold the unruly curls in place. She even fussed over her make-up, using more cosmetics than usual. Tiny gold and diamond hoops were her only accessories.

The intercom announced Nick's arrival. She met him at the door, ready to go.

His eyes swept over her like a man at last allowed a cool drink of water after forty years in the desert. She took the hand he offered, grateful for the support. Her knees, for some unfathomable reason, had turned to cooked spaghetti noodles when she saw him.

His black tux looked like it had been tailored just for him. He wore it so naturally it seemed more like a second skin than clothing. The heady scent of his after-shave cologne made her lightheaded as she inhaled the warm spicy scent.

She noticed a duffel bag on the backseat. It made no big impression on her as her mind was preoccupied with Nick. How he looked. And smelled. Ooo, the sensuality inherent in the up-curved corners of his mouth. He possessed the right magic to dispel her anxiety about intimacy. She could very well forget her doubts if he smiled at her.

She'd steeled herself for this date all week. It took all the willpower she possessed to not take off for the border rather than go through with this date. With what she knew he had planned to end the evening. Unless by some weird coincidence, he forgot.

They pulled up before an exclusive supper club. A uniformed carhop opened her door and helped her out of the car. Nick took her by the elbow to guide her up the curb and the red-carpeted steps into the club.

She blinked at him when he looked down at her, a quirky half-grin lifting one corner of his mouth. The maitre-d’ appeared to know Nick, for they were escorted to a private table without so much as a "Your name, please?"

"What may we bring you to drink this evening, Mr. Galanapolous? the maitre-d’ asked as he pulled out a chair for Marianne. The manner of address confirmed her earlier conclusion that Nick had been here before.

Without Nick to nudge her into the seat, she doubted she would have realized that it was being held out for her. He took his seat before he replied, "Champagne. Your best."

"Very good, sir. Nichelle will be here to take your orders."

After the dapper man left, Marianne leaned forward to whisper, "Where are the menus?"

Nick winked at her. "Nichelle will tell us what's being offered tonight. You'll have a good choice. The food is excellent."

"Come here often? She couldn't keep the astonishment out of her voice.

"Company parties."

Nichelle arrived with the champagne. She rattled off the dinner menu, memorized their choices and left as quietly as she'd arrived.

Marianne glanced around. The lights were dim. The sconces on the walls provided the only illumination aside from the candles on the tables. The muted sound of music filtered around the low murmurings of the other diners.

"Care to dance? Nick pushed his chair back.

Marianne contemplated the hand he offered her. How would she be able to retain her composure while they danced - bodies pressed together, as close as two people could get in a public situation...

"Well?"

"I'd love too."

The dance floor wasn't over-crowded with dancers. A strobe light cast golden sparkles over the floor, walls and people. The live band played a slow song. Nick pulled her up against himself, and encircled her waist with a secure arm to keep her right where he wanted her.

In heels, she could rest her chin on his shoulder if she chose. Instead, she closed her eyes, letting him guide their steps in time to the music. The tempo increased as the music changed. Nick flung her away from him, pulled her back in, and curled his arm around her shoulders.

"I didn't know you were such a good dancer, she told him at one brief point when they danced close together.

"It's one of my many hidden talents."

With those words, she gasped as he bent her back. The music came to a halt and a ubiquitous voice announced the band would be taking a short break.

Covered plates awaited them at their table. She'd ordered prime rib, medium rare. Nick ordered a seafood plate. When he first offered her a bite of his shrimp, she shook her head.

"Try it, he urged. Hiss eyes reflected gold the candlelight.

She nibbled the shrimp speared on the end of his fork. She then offered him a bite of her prime rib. Some more champagne, a chocolate-laden dessert and more dancing rounded out the fairytale Marianne had stumbled into.

It was late when they left the club. His car sat running by the curb, just brought by the valet. The drive back to her apartment took little time. The full moon cast a silvery light into the interior of the car, and Marianne was content to sit back and hold Nick's hand as he drove.

Nick shouldered the duffel bag after he helped her out of the car. His warm hand covered hers as he disentangled the key ring from her fingers. Inside, he followed her up the stairs, one hand on the small of her back.

* * * *

The apartment was dark, she hadn't thought to leave a light on, and Andi was all but moved out now. They would have it all to themselves. She made her way to the kitchen, pausing long enough to switch on the dining room light.

Her hands shook as she pulled down a couple of wineglasses. She arranged the chilled bottle of wine, glasses and corkscrew on a plain silver-plated tray. After several moments spent rearranging things, she wandered back to the living room.

"Wine? she asked.

The duffel bag had disappeared. Nick stood before her in the light cast from the dining room - his tie removed, the top buttons of his shirt undone, the tuxedo jacket tossed onto the couch. Marianne ran her tongue over her lower lip. Oh goodness. His dark chest hair contrasted against the crisp whiteness of his shirt where it had been unbuttoned.

Nick took the tray and set it on the low coffee table before the couch. She watched him open the bottle, and pour the wine. He left the glasses on the table when he turned back to her.

Her heart raced. The smoldering looks he'd been giving her all night clued her he hadn't forgotten what would be happening later, and later had just arrived. Nick cupped her face in his hand. His undemanding kiss reassured her and the distance between them closed when she opened her mouth to mate her tongue with his. He tasted like champagne and chocolate.

She felt her hair cascade down her back, surprised she hadn't noticed his tugs at the pins that held it up on her head. She arched away from him when he brought his lips to nip at her neck. She moaned when he pulled her upright again. One large hand found the hidden zipper that went down the back of her dress.

His hands seared her shoulders when he tugged at her dress. The soft shushing sound the dress made as it fell to pool around her feet echoed in the silent room. Now his hands worked the clasps of the strapless bra she wore. The stiff black nylon undergarment parted from her skin to fall to the floor while his hands roamed over her bare back. Nimble fingers picked at the still-fastened shirt buttons When his shirt opened to reveal his chest, she pressed against him.

His hungry lips devoured hers, before they trailed to the hollow of her neck, down to the narrow valley between her breasts as he lifted her off the floor.

The wine sat forgotten. Marianne thirsted for Nick alone. He touched her like no other had ever done, tracing her skin with his fingertips, leaving a tingly trail of quivering flesh wherever he touched. When she pulled back, he didn't let go of her, but gave her time to catch her breath. She felt secure in the knowledge if she told him to stop, he would.

"You're driving me wild, she admonished.

His eyebrows went up and down in one quick motion. "Good."

"You're holding back, Marianne whispered. She reached up to run her thumb over his lips.

"I don't want to scare you. He kissed the palm of her hand, then each fingertip.

"Do you want me? She had to know the answer. She loved all the things he did to her body, yet even in her pleasure-induced haze she'd recognized his reticence. She needed to know this wasn't an experiment for him - thawing an ice princess just to see if he could.

"Oh yeah. Nick's growl sounded deep and throaty.

"Then don't hold yourself back. Don't deprive..."

He swept her up over his shoulder, an effective interruption of her plea. Her bed was the final destination. She blinked in the bright light, surprised to find the room so well lit.

"Let me turn off a few lights. She sat up on the bed after he lowered her to it, oh-so-gently.

"No. I want to see all of you."

Apprehension filled her for a moment, drowning the mood. "But, shouldn't the lights be off?"

"Why? Nick removed her shoes. He reached for the top of the silky stocking on her left leg and pulled it off. He followed the same procedure with the other leg.

Stumped, she couldn't think of an answer. His hands teased her thighs as he tugged at the lacy pink panties she wore. He murmured, "You wore the pink ones."

Marianne basked in the pleasure she heard in his voice. A little of her unease abated as he caressed her satin-clad bottom. Nick's hands slid under the elastic waistband to separate her from her the material that clung to her like a second skin.

He pushed her back onto the bed after he removed her undies. His warm hands soothed every inch of her body, lingering over her sensitive skin. She opened her eyes just a sliver when she felt him move back. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him remove the rest of his clothes.

Nick stood there beside her bed. His hair mused from her hands, his expression sensual, his body-oh dear-that body! He did deserve the appellation "Apollo and that's what she said when he bent over her to move her all the way onto the bed.

"Apollo."

He nipped the end of her nose. Marianne plastered herself against him. Her fingers tangled through the coarse dark hair on his chest. She moaned in protest when he moved away to put on a condom.

She heard the crescendo of their hearts beating together when he shifted her beneath him. This left her no choice but to open her legs to accommodate him, he was so heavy. But oh, the heat rolling off him couldn't be denied. She knew he felt the heat with which her body responded. Marianne lifted her hips when his hands moved to cup her bottom and lifted her to meet him. The rest of the world faded away. She grasped his shoulders, hoarse from the intensity of the moans he elicited, and when he collapsed on top of her, spent, she cried joyous tears.

Nick rolled over, pulling her to rest on top of him. As their breathing returned to normal, he ran his hands over her slick body, as if reassuring himself she was real. Speech eluded her for several minutes.

He spoke first, his voice raspy. "Still with me, sweetie?"

Marianne sighed. "I think so. The room is still spinning, though."

"Which way?"

"Clockwise, I think, she murmured. She buried her face in his shoulder.

He smoothed her hair off her face, then lowered himself to kiss her forehead. His hand lingered on her jaw, just under her ear. "You're incredible, Marianne."

She wriggled in happiness. Nick's deep chuckle made her shiver. "Don't do that, sweetie. You won't get any sleep if you do."

She moved against him again, kissing his neck. He reached over to the night table, his hand knocking a few condoms to the floor as he grabbed one.

"Glad I came prepared."

* * * *

Goosebumps covered her shoulders as Nick lathered her back. His strong fingers massaged her shoulder blades, then slid down to the curve of her bottom and back up again. Warm water from the showerhead splashed them. The tiny shower was just big enough for one person. With two, it became downright cozy.

She'd never known intimacy beyond the bed with a man before. Her previous lover hadn't been interested in much more than relieving his needs. This standing so snug next to Nick in the shower thrilled Marianne. His hands moved over her skin with the assurance of luscious familiarity.

At last soap-free and squeaky clean, they emerged from the shower together. Nick pulled a large bath towel off the rack to wrap around her before he secured another towel around his waist. Marianne grabbed another towel off the sink to wrap around her dripping hair. She bit off a shriek when Nick whirled her around into his arms and tangoed out of the bathroom.

She grasped his arms when he dashed her back against his thigh. Laughter left her breathless. Her towel slipped and he fastened his mouth onto one of her up-thrusting breasts. The fiery sensation that spread down her abdomen culminated in a white hot shivery feeling that fanned through her body. They tumbled onto the bed, a jumble of arms and legs.

"Ah, sweetie, I'm sorry to say I'm out of condoms, Nick whispered in her ear.

"How can you be out?"

They nestled together amid a mess of bedclothes and damp towels. "I thought I was being optimistic, putting in as many as I did. We used them all."

"There's a drug store on the corner, just a few blocks away, she told him, her tone turned from disappointment to hopeful.

He patted her hip. "Let's go out to breakfast. We'll stop at the drug store after we eat."

The coffee shop bustled with Saturday morning patrons. After a wait of half an hour, Nick and Marianne were seated in a booth. One of the vinyl bench seats had a rip running the length of the seat, so they sat side by side.

After they placed their order, Marianne rested her head on Nick's shoulder after the server left. "Tired? he inquired.

"Hmm. She stifled a yawn.

"You should get more sleep."

"Couldn't sleep. There was this incredible man in my bed last night. And how. In retrospect, her previous fears about intimacy seemed silly. As many times as they had loved throughout the night, Marianne felt safe in her conclusion that each time would only improve on the time before. Provided he'd want her again.

"Oh? Nick placed his hand on her knee

"He didn't let me sleep much, she whispered.

He squeezed her knee. "How rude of him."

"I hope he'll want to visit me again. There. She said it, she put her insecurity out there for him to walk all over if he so chose. But she needed to know what was on his mind.

"I'm one hundred and ninety-nine percent sure that he does. In fact, I have it on good authority that he intends to visit you all weekend. After he makes a necessary purchase at the drug store."

Relief billowed through Marianne. She hadn't scared Nick away. To the contrary, in fact. The man had a sure talent for making her feel desirable. If nothing else came of this relationship, she'd discovered there was nothing to fear about intimacy.

Mid-morning sunshine cut through a haze of thin clouds as they left the restaurant. They strolled through the corner drugstore hand-in-hand.

"I'm not going down that aisle. She pulled her hand out of his, hanging back in the wide aisle that ran perpendicular to the condom aisle.

"What's the matter? Don't you want to have a say about which ones I get? Nick teased. He halted a couple of steps into the aisle and looked back at her. His eyes danced with mischief as his mouth widened into a big grin.

"No. I'm going to the candle aisle. Marianne glanced about, looking for a clue to direct her towards the scented candles.

Nick grabbed her wrist and pulled her along with him. "This won't take long. Look at all the choices. We could get glow-in-the-dark, ribbed, lubricated or unlubed. This brand has a feather attached at the end. All the better to tickle you with, my dear."

"Nick! She found the floor to be very fascinating.

"What? I'm taking care of you, you know. Which of these do you think you'll like? Or we could get one of each and try them all. I like these. He pulled a box off the shelf to show her. "They come in four glow-in-the-dark neon colors. They're ribbed and lubed. An added bonus! They come in industrial-sized packages. No other brand comes one hundred to a box. How many boxes do you think we'll need for the rest of the weekend? Two or three?"

"Way to go, dude! Another male voice intruded into the conversation.

Marianne wished for a major earthquake to hit right at that moment, with the only damage being that she disappeared into the earth never to be seen again. She couldn't believe it when Nick carried on a conversation with the stranger.

"Have you used this brand? Nick held up the box in question.

"Oh yeah. They do glow in the dark. The orange ones are the best ones for that. Orange glows the longest. And the ribs are killer. Not wimpy ribbed scuba-suits like some of the others, but ribs your girlfriend will be able to feel, man."

"Wonderful. Marianne wondered if her face had turned fifty shades of beet red. It sure felt like it had.

"Thanks."

"No problem, man. Rock on! The stranger snatched a box of condoms from the shelf and left them in peace.

Nick hugged her tight. She kept her head down, unable to meet his eye. He chuckled when her shoulders began to shake.

"You are-words don't even begin to describe what you are! she muttered into his chest.

"Are you mad at me? Nick asked with a tiny hint of worry in his voice. He rubbed her back.

"How can I be mad? I'm laughing too hard."

"Still want to get some stinky candles? He took a deep breath as if preparing himself for an answer he didn't want to hear.

The answer she gave him along with a wicked cackle. "Yes. And you are going to sniff each available scent."

"That's cruel and unusual punishment, he protested. "I know this because I studied law."

"So sue me, she suggested sweetly.

Mama strikes again...

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"G'morning, Boss, Doug greeted Marianne.

Monday morning came, yet one more time. Sleepy and languorous from the weekend spent in bed making love with Nick, she didn't welcome the end of the weekend and the dreary return to the highly over-rated Real World.

"Coffee, she muttered. "Must. Have. Coffee. Soon."

"Good weekend, then? Doug slid a steaming cup across the counter. He finished his previous task of grinding coffee beans a few moments later.

"Yes. You? How did Saturday go here? Marianne sipped at the hot coffee judiciously, but savored the flavor of the strong brew.

"Great. Many, many surprised customers, Doug answered. He wiped the counter top and tossed the dirty rag into the sink.

"Good. You don't mind working the weekend? She stretched her arms over her head in a futile attempt to wake up all the way. If she had a choice, she'd have stayed in bed when the alarm sounded this morning. What good was being the boss if you couldn't enjoy the occasional day off?

"Nope. I don't have a life. But from the looks of you, I'd say you do. Doug assessed her from head to toe. His blue eyes twinkled with a devilish charm. "Yeah, baby. It's written all over you."

She yawned. "Very funny."

"Your mother stopped in, Saturday."

Marianne almost dropped her coffee at the abrupt change of topic. "What?"

"She expected to see you here, Doug grinned self-depreciatingly. "She gave me the first, second, and third degrees."

"What did you tell her?"

"I said that I wasn't privy to my employer's private life and whatever you did on the weekends wasn't any business of mine. She asked all sorts of questions that, frankly, made me uncomfortable. It's none of her business if I'm single or not. She seemed shocked when I told her I preferred to date men. Like she didn't know my type existed."

Marianne groaned. Her mother came into her store about once in a blue moon, so Marianne hadn't thought it necessary to warn Doug. "I'm so sorry, Doug. Mom is rather sheltered. She's special in her own way."

Doug nodded. "I'm sure she is."

"I appreciate your discretion, she spoke as she wondered how to broach the subject of keeping secrets from her mother.

"Look, Marianne, if you want her to know what you're doing, you'll tell her. Otherwise, my lips are sealed. I wouldn't want you talking about my personal life, so I won't talk about yours."

"Are you a mind reader? Relieved didn't begin to describe how Doug's discretion made her feel.

He looked uncomfortable. "No, I know from experience when parental-child relations are strained."

"Sorry to hear that, Doug. She offered a bright smile.

He shrugged. "There are just some things that are hard for parents to accept. My parents are mystified by my desire to work, given the size of my trust fund. Just as they are mystified I'm dating someone named Curtis."

"Why can't parents just be thrilled when their children are happy? she mused.

"Beats the hell outta me."

* * * *

Madge Wilson walked into Java on the Go with the unmistakable air of a woman on a mission. Her gaze swept the store, lit on Doug as her brows furrowed in question.

"Where is Marianne?"

Doug jerked his head toward the counter. "She's checking stock."

"So she is here today?"

"Hello! Mother! Marianne, still crouched to rearrange the stored stock, raised her hand to wave.

"You were gone all weekend, Madge accused.

"Yep. Busy. Marianne kept her answer brief. Athena's corset ! What was the point in observing that her mother complained when Marianne had no social life, and now she whined because Marianne found a life. No pleasing her mother, as usual.

"Your father and I would like to see you once in a while, dear. We're having the Petersons over for dinner Friday night. You remember the Petersons, don't you?"

Marianne stood up, hands full with several bags of coffee. "Sure I remember the Petersons. They had that mousy little girl named Wendie Sue and that obnoxious boy. Oh, what was his name...? Oh! Walter! She put the bags on the counter top.

"They are all coming over. Wendie Sue married a physician and has a little baby now. She's younger than you are. Walter is still unmarried, Madge announced.

Marianne bit her lower lip, and bobbed her head. "Mother, don't even start. I don't give a whirling baklava that little Wendie Sue is younger than me and married with a baby. As for Walter being single, can't say as that comes as a big shock. He was beyond strange. Marianne found it difficult to remain stern as Doug snickered in the background. Her mother didn't seem to notice.

"Is that any way to talk about such good, old friends? Walter is very successful you know. He's in computers, Madge reprimanded while she drew herself up in a huff.

"Mother, if this is another attempt to fix me up with someone..."

"It's not!"

"And I live on Mount Olympus, Marianne snapped. "You're as transparent as a window. I'm busy Friday night. I will be busy any night you think to invite any more of your old friends over who also happen to have unwed sons."

"Marianne, darling, Madge crooned. She held her manicured hands out in a beseeching manner. "You can't be happy. You turned thirty this summer. You only have a few years left to have healthy children! I want you to be happy. When did it become a crime for a mother to want what's best for her daughter?"

Marianne grasped her head between her hands, attempting to stave off the migraine that threatened. "How many times are we going to have to go over this until you understand I'm happy the way I am? Quit. Good heavens, wasn't three months a big enough hint for you? Butt out of my life!"

She brushed past her mother, ignoring the astounded customers who gaped at the scene. Marianne paused long enough to tell Doug he had the shop. The door bounced shut after her as she stepped out into the warmth of the early afternoon. The sounds of traffic replaced the sound of her mother's nagging voice in her head. She took a deep breath and began to walk.

The hilly streets were crowded with rush hour traffic before Marianne started up the last hill to her store. The blinds over the front windows and door had been closed. She expected to find the shop closed, and was surprised to find Doug waiting for her. And he wasn't alone.

Nick's eyes narrowed when he saw her limp into the shop. "There you are."

"Did we have a date? Just add another tick in the stupidity column for the day. Was it too late to call for a do-over for the entire day?

"No. No. I came by to take you to dinner. I have to work late again."

"Have you been waiting long?"

"A few minutes. You okay? Doug said your mother came by earlier."

She rushed to him when he held his arm out towards her. His arms came up around her as she clutched her hands behind his back. Doug cleared his throat, making a big production of letting them know he was leaving.

Alone, Nick pried her away from him. He held her at arm's length to look at her. "Mama is meddling again."

"Trying. What am I going to do about her, Nick? She's driving me crazy. She sagged against him, grateful for his support.

"There's always Alcatraz, he suggested.

"There's an idea with merit. She doesn't swim, so unless she learns to fly like a bird, she'd be stuck there, Marianne said, her flagging spirits revived due to Nick's gentle teasing. "You have to work late?"

"Client appointment. Shouldn't be more than an hour. Two at the most."

"Hmm ... there's always the television. She walked to the back counter to check if Doug had left the appliances ready for the next morning. He had.

"You need some sleep, sweetie, Nick observed.

"You're right. I do. Some sex-crazed lunatic kept me up all weekend."

His eyes smoldered at her and swept over her body with an experienced, knowing gaze. "If the lunatic didn't need sleep too, he'd be back at your place tonight."

"I hope he's well-rested by the weekend."

"He will be, Nick promised. "He has plans for you."

She grasped his lapels in her hands when she rejoined him with the wild notion that perhaps she'd never let go. Scary how fast she'd come to rely on his steady presence in her life. "What sort of plans?"

He kissed her before he replied. "Plans requiring nudity. Sharing. Assembling."

"Assembling?"

"Sliding part A into part B, over and over again."

"Oh. Building ."

"Yes. Building."

"What kind of building? She rubbed against him and pressed her breasts against his chest as she moved her shoulders seductively.

"A high rise. He tapped her nose with his index finger, before he kissed her again. Hard. A demanding kiss that required a response, but also promised pleasure to come.

* * * *

If her mother called once, she called ten times a day. For the entire week. Marianne reached for the phone as she listened to what had to be the millionth message on her machine. Her parent's line rang once.

"Marianne? Is that you? You haven't returned a single call!"

She held the phone away from her ear. "Mom, you don't have to scream. I can hear you if you speak normally."

"You know I don't trust those cordless phones! her mother screamed again.

"Mother. Marianne sighed. Her mother had covered the receiver to yell at her father. She could hear every muffled word clear as a bell. "Listen to me. I'm not coming over to dinner tonight. What? No! Look, I'll come by to say hi, but that's it ... I'm not staying and I am certainly not going to accept any sort of date with Walter Peterson ... Because I'm not, that's why ... I'm sure he's an upstanding young man ... No, I'm not being sarcastic ... Mother! Do you want me there or not? If not, I'm going to help Andi pack ... I will stay for half an hour ... Fine. No, I won't dress up ... I'm helping Andi when I get back ... I'll be there as soon as I can ... You have to let me hang up or I can't leave ... No, I'm not patronizing you or being sarcastic ... I'm hanging up ... Right now ... Bye ... Bye ... Bye ..."

She clicked the phone off, setting it on the end table. It started to ring again. Andi carted empty boxes and tape into her room. "Your mother is nuts, Mare."

"Ya think so? Do me a favor. Call me at Mom's at seven o'clock. Insist that the building is falling down around your ears if you have to, just rescue me!"

"I'll tell her the tape gun went haywire and I'm taped inside a box and I can't get out."

"Works for me. Thanks! Sorry to bail on you. Marianne grabbed her purse and keys and strode to the door. Better to get this Peterson thing taken care of before her mother self-imploded and took Marianne along with her.

* * * *

The Petersons were just as Marianne remembered them. Bland. Wendie Sue made a big production of introducing her husband, Dr. Stan Smith, and showing off her baby son, Stan Junior. Walter, a thin, nervous, nerdy-looking young man, hugged her like they'd been the best of friends. Mr. and Mrs. Peterson beamed proudly while their son mauled her. Mrs. Peterson exchanged significant glances with Marianne's mother.

"I'm only popping in for a moment. My roomie is moving and I promised I'd help her pack tonight, Marianne explained. She'd have to be blind to miss the disappointed expressions around her, or the Olympic eyebrow raising Mrs. Peterson engaged in with her mother. Good gods on Mount Olympus, if there had been a team for eyebrow raising, Mrs. Peterson could have been the captain.

"I made this promise before I knew Mother invited you all over, she added. She looked away when she saw Walter swallowing hard enough to down a good-sized frog. Yipes!

"Your mother tells us you're still single, Mrs. Peterson caroled.

"Single and proud of it, Marianne confirmed, her worst fears being fulfilled. "I own a gourmet coffee shop downtown. I just hired a full-time assistant, so the business is doing well."

"Walter is still unmarried too."

Red flags waved madly. She knew what was coming next, and she did her best to hide her disgust at Mrs. Peterson trying to set up a date for geeky Walter. Yeech. The human race would be doomed if she was the last woman on earth and Walter the last man. Sorry, people, but a gal needed to draw the line somewhere. And between herself and Walter seemed to be the ideal place for that line.

"Perhaps you would enjoy an evening out with Walter. His computer business is doing very well, like your own business. I'm sure you would have a splendid evening. Mrs. Peterson beamed fondly at her geekling.

Her mother gave a significant sideways nod, and her tweezed-practically-into-nonexistence eyebrows arched high on her forehead. Marianne sent her a grim glare as the solution to this awkward situation presented itself. After all her admonishments to the contrary, her mother still refused to give up her quest to marry Marianne off. Well, Mama was going to get what she deserved. Marianne had had more than enough and knew just what to do to put an end to her mother's meddling for good. She took a deep breath.

"I'm not a virgin."

The announcement caused a long moment of stupefied silence. Then the screeching began.

"Did she say what I think she said? This came from Mrs. Peterson.

"What are you doing? Her mother hissed through a grimace of clenched teeth.

Her father coughed. Mr. Peterson said nothing, just watched the chaos. Wendie Sue blushed while she cuddled Stan Junior. Walter appeared to be thunderstruck. His oily face shone as he stared at her.

"I'm saving you the trouble of calling Mrs. Peterson later to explain that I threw my virginity away years ago, without the benefit of marriage, Marianne answered.

"Why on earth would you bring that up now, of all times? Madge wailed.

"I didn't want it to come as a surprise later."

"Does this mean you want to go out with me? Walter asked, his high tenor voice eager.

Hoisted on her own petard. Curses! She marshaled her thoughts together while she tried to come up with a nice, coherent answer. She had no options left. She had to tell the truth. Well, a version of the truth.

"I'm sorry, Walter. I'm seeing someone now."

Her mother perked up, her appalled expression brightened as she glommed onto the news that Marianne had a boyfriend. Walter said spoke, his disappointment evident, "I didn't know that. Is it serious? He cheered considerably now, and Marianne saw his face brighten a tiny bit.

Oh, time to kill this budding blossom of hope Walter harbored. She nodded. "Yes, it is. We're having sex. In fact, tonight after I'm finished helping Andi, he's coming over so we can have wild gorilla sex all weekend. We thought we'd try it in the laundry room, when the washing machine goes on the spin cycle. If you'll excuse me, I'm sure you'll all understand my haste. The spin cycle doesn't last forever."

Her father escorted her to the front door, taking the opportunity to speak with her while they were alone. "You sure know how to stir up a hornet's nest. Your mother won't rest until you bring your young man home to meet us."

"No way, Dad. No offense, but I don't want Mom to scare him off, she replied in haste. Alarm bells of another sort were ringing.

"I understand. But if this relationship of yours becomes any more serious, I'll want to have a talk with this man, Marianne, her father told her. "Unless you have something to hide?"

"Me? Hide something? Darn the squeak in her voice.

He laughed, great deep belly laughs. Tears leaked from his eyes while he wheezed for a breath. He opened the front door, and ushered her outside before he said anything.

"You're dating Nick Galanapolous, aren't you."

The question stated as a fact brought her up short. How had he known? Before she could utter confirmation or denial, he patted her shoulder in a paternal gesture of support.

She unlocked her car door. Her father reached out to open it for her. She got into the car and rolled the window down. He leaned into the car to kiss her forehead. She started the engine, but left it to idle while she finished her conversation with her father.

Her father straightened up and said as he slapped the roof of her car, "Honey, your secret is safe with me."

Marianne believed she could trust her father more than she could trust her mother. Maybe her dad knowing the big secret would work in her favor.

* * * *

She saw lights ablaze in the street-facing windows of her apartment when she drove into the parking lot. Music and laughter greeted her as she let herself inside. Piles of boxes were stacked along the wall, so she skirted around them carefully.

"Roomie! Andi yelled. "We have company. Josh came with the moving truck, and Nick came just as your mother called to howl at you, about five minutes ago."

Marianne looked around, but couldn't find Nick. Andi continued her spiel. "Your mother is having Texas Longhorns. Demanded I tell her who you were seeing and if I knew for a fact you were having sex."

"What did you tell her?"

"Not a damn thing. I said if you were having sex, it was about time. She hung up on me, but I'm not sure why. Andi pulled an angelic face.

"Where's Nick? Marianne walked toward her bedroom.

"I think he's lighting candles in your room. He seems rather antsy. Hey, talk him into meeting up with Josh and me for dinner tomorrow night, Andi requested.

"I heard, Nick appeared in the doorway. He suggested a restaurant on the wharf that met with universal approval.

Marianne and Andi hugged. "You'll be back tomorrow for your boxes?"

Andi grinned as they separated. "Yeah, but not too early. We wouldn't want to interrupt anything. I could be scarred for life if I catch you in the act. I think it's fantastic you met someone who makes your blood boil. It's about time."

Marianne turned to face Josh. She put her best stern face on and pointed her finger at him. "You make her happy, or I get to hurt you. Understand?"

"I'll make her delirious with happiness, Josh agreed. "It's not like we're moving to the far side of the moon, you know."

Andi came to stand beside Josh. She wrapped her arm around his waist as she leaned against him. "Yep, one day you and I will be trying to match-make our children with each other."

Laughter bubbled from Marianne's middle. "I hope not. I'm hoping to still have a life then. More hugs and good-byes, then Andi and Josh left.

The phone rang, but Marianne let the machine pick it up. Who else would call at this time of night, besides her mother? Besides, Nick pulled her over to a recliner to cuddle her on his lap. Madge's voice echoed through the apartment.

"Marianne? I know you're home now. I think it's very inconsiderate of you to not answer the phone. Marianne? A gusty sigh sounded. "Don't think I don't know you're there, listening. Your behav..."

The answering machine clicked off and disconnected the call. The phone rang not two seconds later. Her mother continued as if she'd never been interrupted.

"Your behavior has cost me my dear friendship with Mrs. Peterson, I'll have you know. They refused to stay for supper after you left. How am I supposed to sleep tonight, with the knowledge that you're ... you're ... you..."

The machine clicked off again. The phone rang a third time.

"Persistent, isn't she? Nick murmured, his hands inside Marianne's shirt.

"It's one of her many middle names, she replied with a moan.

"...Knowing you're sinning the night away? I could cry with the shame of it all. You've hurt me deeply, Marianne. Deeply. I don't think I'll ever recover. This time, her mother ended the call.

"Oh good. She's done."

"She didn't ruin your mood? Nick breathed into her ear.

"No. She made me more determined than ever to sin the night away, she confessed.

"Let's continue this in the bedroom, he suggested. He helped her to her feet.

Possessed by insane demons...

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Marianne awakened to the aroma of cinnamon apple pancakes grilling. She peered through sleep-hazed eyes to determine Nick had left the room. She grabbed the first item of clothing she saw as she tumbled out of bed.

His tee shirt covered her to mid-thigh. She tugged it over her butt as she wandered to the kitchen. Clad only his boxer shorts, Nick stood with his back to her while he tended to something on the electric griddle on the counter. She coughed.

"Good morning. He cast a glance over his shoulder. "I thought I'd leave the coffee to the pro."

She went to the coffee maker. In no time at all, coffee perked to add its rich aroma to that of the pancakes. "Good morning, she replied.

"Sleep well?"

"Did we sleep? Marianne feigned a double-take. Her body pulsated with desire, just from being in the same room with Nick. For a wild moment, she considered the wisdom of tempting him away from his breakfast cooking in order to get cooking with her. Hunger for food won a shallow victory.

"Not much. Your plate is ready. He pointed with the spatula toward a plate piled high with steaming fluffy pancakes. A new bottle of syrup sat on the counter by her plate. He handed a saucer with a stick of softened butter on it to her.

She slathered the butter on the stack, adding a generous puddle of syrup. "Smells good."

"I was going to serve you breakfast in bed, he admitted.

"We can go back, she told him. Oh yes, breakfast in bed would gain a new definition if she had anything to say about the subject.

He handed her another plate filled with pancakes. "I'll bring the coffee."

Back in the bedroom, she set the plates on the foot of the bed and climbed back under the covers. Nick followed a few minutes later, his eyes on the shirt she still wore. He left the coffee mugs on the top of her dresser.

"Oh no. You can't eat pancakes dripping with syrup while still dressed. I want to lick the drips off you."

She removed the shirt. It fluttered to the floor. She lunged for her plate and dug into the stack with a voracious hunger. Through her first mouthful she mumbled, "This is good."

"I like to cook, Nick answered, his gaze lingered on her lips as she chewed and swallowed.

"I can't stand to cook. I'm a disaster in the kitchen."

"I noticed your cupboards were very bare, but your freezer is well-stocked."

"I have to eat somehow. Can't always bring dinner home from the deli."

He reached over to finger a drop of syrup from her chin. He licked his finger clean. She watched in fascination, her pancakes forgotten. He caught her eye. His demeanor changed as he lifted her plate from her lap and turned to place it on the floor on his side of the bed. His plate went to keep hers company.

A couple of hours later they laid spent in the tangled sheets, holding hands. "If I'm not careful, you're gonna make me a believer in true love, Nick announced.

"Your hormones are talking."

"No, sweetie. I spend more time here with you than I do at my own place. I can't imagine sleeping by myself any more."

She held her breath, wondering when he'd spit out the "but part. "But? she prompted, tired of waiting on edge.

"But what? I find myself wanting to do something I never expected to do."

"What's that? Uncertainty colored her words. In her experience, it was time for something bad to happen. Something this good couldn't last for very long.

"Let's think about moving in together, he suggested.

The tangible relief she felt coursed through her veins. He didn't want to break things off with her, he wanted to continue them on a more permanent level. She hadn't lived with her other lover. But this relationship differed from that one. Nick wanted to see her for more than a quick romp in bed. Romp was way too generous a word for what had happened during her first love affair. Screwed described it more appropriately.

"That's a serious step, she answered. Her voice shook in betrayal of her innermost thoughts.

"It's something to think about. It's a higher level of commitment either of us has ever made, so we shouldn't make any snap decisions. I just know I want to be with you all the time."

"I'll think about it, she agreed. He kissed her forehead. It held a certain nameless appeal she couldn't begin to fathom, but she could definitely think of worse ideas.

"Why don't we spend next weekend at my place? You've never been there."

"No, I haven't. Why not? Marianne propped herself up on an elbow and traced shapes on Nick's hairy chest.

Nick cleared his throat. "You'll see."

"Sounds cryptic, she replied with a frown.

"I don't mean to be, sweetie, Nick replied. "You have syrup all over your ... self."

"Time for a bath, then. Join me? Nick chased her into the bathroom making engine revving sounds. In retaliation, she poured floral scented bubble bath under the water cascading from the faucet.

Marianne climbed into the tub. He eyed the bubbles doubtfully as their scent filled the air.

"I'll smell like a woman. He folded his arms across his chest, his feet spread apart. He was planted in place.

"Only until you shower later. She turned the water off then crooked a seductive finger at him. "Join me or are you just going to complain about your manhood being threatened by perfume?"

"Well, if you're going to put it that way. He got into the tub behind her, sitting gingerly. Water and bubbles sloshed over the edge of the tub and soaked the bathmat.

They took turns scrubbing one another. When the last of the bubbles melted, they climbed out of the tub. Nick dried her off first, then stood as still as a statue when it was his turn to be tortured. Once dried, he offered his arm to escort her to her bedroom.

"When you move in with me, we'll have to do that more often. I have a big tub."

"You do? Big enough to swim in? I'll turn into a mermaid."

"But that would be no good. You'll have scales all over one of the best parts of you."

"Men. It's all about one thing with you guys, isn't it? Try as she might, she couldn't muster much more than an amused attempt at sternness.

"Yes, he admitted without shame. "It's all over once we discover sex. The rest of the world just isn't as important as watching for the next opportunity to get laid."

She snorted as she turned the covers down. "You could let go of my arm. It would make this easier for me."

"I don't want you to fall down."

"Why would you think I'm going to fall down?"

"I have rubber knees still. Don't you? That bath was an erotic experience."

"Yep. It's all about one thing."

He pushed her onto the bed. "I admitted it is. You're getting mouthy."

"Not as mouthy as I'd like to be, she confessed.

Nick winked at her. "By all means, show me how mouthy you can get."

* * * *

Despite the fact the decision was made, and Marianne would move in with him, she hadn't asked him any questions about his condo. As she sliced the cheesecake to put on little plates, covered them and put them in the glass fronted refrigerated display case, she wondered about this omission. He'd said he had a big tub. That's all she knew about her new living space.

"Doug, do you think it's weird Nick's never taken me to his place before?"

He looked up from measuring the coffee into the machine. "You spend your time together at your place. I don't know. You think he has something to hide?"

"No. I don't."

"Then why you got your panties bunched about it? He measured the water.

She laughed. "That's descriptive."

"You worry too much, Marianne. The man's head over his freaking heels about you. That makes him so sexy."

"Hands off, bud. He's mine."

Doug laughed. "I have my own Prince Charming, babe."

"So I'm worrying too much? But isn't it weird we've been seeing each other for months now, and I've never been to his place?"

"Be flattered he seeks you out, and shut up about it already. You're giving me a migraine."

"I thought gay men were supposed to be more sensitive than your run-of-the-mill, ordinary men, she teased him.

Doug threw a dish towel at her. "Oh please. Keep this up and I'm going to need an anti-PMS pill."

She bent over to pick up the rag that fell short of his intended target. "Okay. I'll shut up about it now."

"Thank heavens for small mercies. Doug snorted. "He asked you to move in with him. A man who has something to hide wouldn't do that. So when is moving day? Just so I know when I can move into your place."

"This weekend. You sure you want all my furniture? Even that girly couch?"

"It's a gorgeous couch, Doug answered. "I love it."

"It's yours. I'm getting tired of the print."

"Thanks. Does that mean I can do whatever I want on that couch?"

She closed her eyes in supplication. "Sheesh! Men! You all have one thing on your minds."

"You didn't know that? Doug passed her, a garbage bag hefted over his shoulder.

"I'd always suspected, but Nick confirmed it for me last night."

"Darling, you need to get out more."

The bells on the door jangled as he left. She heard him talk to the people waiting outside for the store to open. When he came back, he held the door open for the small crowd to enter. With her day begun on such a busy note, she didn't have any more time to worry about why she'd never been to Nick's condo. Besides, the lunch she'd scheduled with her mother to break the news she would be moving in with a man loomed in the near future. That was cause enough to worry, without borrowing more. A girl could only worry one subject to death at a time, if she wanted to do it right.

* * * *

The cloud marring their blissful horizon had a name: Madge Wilson. With the certainty that Christmas always comes on December 25th, Marianne knew her future living arrangements couldn't be kept secret for long. But that didn't stop her from attempting to postpone the inevitable. Filled with determination to finally come out of her mother's formidable shadow, Marianne left Java to meet her mother for lunch.

"But why would you want to move, dear? Andi just left. You have the whole place to yourself, Madge pointed out. She stirred sugar into her tall glass of iced tea.

The muffled sound of breaking plates gave Marianne enough time to consider her answer as her mother swiveled around in her seat to glare at the restaurant's kitchen doors. This had bad idea written all over it. She must be possessed by insane demons to be broaching this subject with her mother, the one person on the entire known universe who wouldn't understand.

"I don't feel comfortable there by myself."

"Where are you moving?"

She hedged, "Into San Francisco. I'm telling you this ahead of time as a courtesy, Mother. Oh, before I forget. She slid a scrap of paper across the table.

"What's this? Madge picked it up and looked at it.

"My cell phone number, I know you lost it the last time I wrote it down for you. You can call that any time and if my phone is on, I'll answer."

Madge placed the paper inside her wallet. "I don't understand."

Marianne ignored her mother's complaint. The fact that her mother had two olive green rotary telephones spoke for itself. Madge looked at her watch. "This is the slowest place. We placed our order twenty-five minutes ago. I want more details about this. I don't like the secrecy."

"I'm a grown woman, Mother. I wish you could respect my privacy."

"You're moving in with that new boyfriend of yours. You can't fool me. You're acting on the sly because you are ashamed of yourself. It's not too late, Marianne. Your conscience must be killing you."

"Not at all. Marianne smiled, feeling like the Cheshire Cat when her mother blanched.

"Oh, my dear. You don't have to put a brave face on for Mother. I raised you to know pre-marital sex is wrong. Sex is for making babies."

"Sex is for pleasure. Babies are a side benefit. We've also discussed having a child together. Marianne grinned at the memory of that sleepy middle of the night conversation. She'd told Nick that despite all precautions, sometimes babies happened. He'd replied he couldn't think of a sweeter accident.

"After you've made it right before God and your families. Madge looked pleased with her supposition. "See, you do want to be married."

"Eventually, if we're ever ready for that step."

"You can't have a baby if you aren't married, Madge persisted. Her chin jutted forward.

"Why not? Marianne demanded cheerfully.

"It's not the natural order of things. I suppose I can eventually get over the fact that you had sex before you were married, but no grandchild of mine will be born out of wedlock!"

"I don't think you have much of a vote in the matter, Marianne stated, her tone flat. She'd never said they'd have the children before they got married, her mother had just leapt to that conclusion.

Lunch arrived. Madge didn't touch her clubhouse sandwich. The lines on her face creased with her distress. Marianne bit into her BLT, glad for the silence.

"I failed as a mother, Madge murmured. She shoved her plate away. "You've broken my heart."

"That's not my intention, Mother. Why can't you just be happy for me? I've found a wonderful man to love."

"Who is this man? I know you told your father. He's been gloating ever since the disaster with the Petersons. Such a ruckus you created, you know. Walter was very disappointed. And Amanda Peterson hasn't spoken to me since."

"I told you not to meddle, Mother. That mess is your own doing. Cross that her mother attempted the lay a guilt trip on her, she reached for her purse.

"What are you doing?"

"Paying for lunch. I have to go."

Madge looked up at her as she stood. "I wish I knew what I did to make my own daughter hate me so much."

"Think hard. You might have a lightbulb moment, Marianne suggested. "You wonder why I don't tell you everything in my life? I'll tell you.

"It's because you turn every little thing into a federal issue. You're so stuck in your 1950's morality, you can't be happy because I am. Did you ever stop to think that the reason I'm so unconventional is because you've done nothing but stuff your vision of my life down my throat since I was a baby? Why don't you get it that I don't want to make my decisions based on your old-fashioned ideals? And why, can't you see that continually ramming those ideals of yours is going to push me away from you? I can't take the smothering anymore! I'm finished."

"You won't be happy as long as we have this discord between us, Madge predicted.

"Thanks for your support. Marianne walked away without a backward glance.

* * * *

Nick walked into the conference room to face the elderly partners of the firm. Mr. Abbott and Mr. Lane sat at the head the table, conversing in low tones. Mr. Lane beckoned Nick to join them.

He took a seat across from Mr. Abbott. He kept his mouth shut until one of the partners addressed him. Mr. Lane spoke. "Nick, thank you for making time for us in your busy schedule. No statements to the contrary, either. My secretary spoke to yours, so I know you're seeing us between consultations. We'll keep it brief. I'm sure you've heard the rumors floating about."

"Yes, sir. He didn't bother to play dumb. Mr. Lane always spoke directly and expected the same from his subordinates.

"Most rumors around here are incorrect, but this one isn't. We're pleased to extend you the offer of full partnership in the firm."

"I'm pleased to accept, Nick replied.

"Well said, Mr. Lane said. "To celebrate this new partnership, and the new name of the firm, our wives are putting together a small dinner party. We've heard rumors there's a young lady in your life?"

"Yes, sir. Marianne Wilson."

"Another rumor proven true, Mr. Abbott interjected.

"Is it serious, Nick? Mr. Lane asked. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out three cigars. He offered one to Mr. Abbott, then to Nick.

He tapped the cigar against his thumbnail. "She's moving in with me this weekend."

"Your disgust for the institution of marriage is legendary, son, so conservatives though we are, we're pleased you've found a young lady worth, er, living with. Mr. Lane offered his lighter to him. "Appearances mean a lot, in the upper circles of society. Would your Miss Wilson be amenable to being styled as your fiancée?"

"I'll have to ask her, sir."

"You'll have more social responsibilities, as a full partner, Mr. Lane explained. He flicked the ashes of his cigar into the ashtray before him.

"I understand, sir."

The older partners rose. Nick did the same, and shook hands with both men as they held out their hands to him. "Welcome to Abbott, Lane and Galanapolous, Mr. Lane exclaimed.

Nick grimaced, which caused the older men to chuckle. "The letterhead alone is a frightening thing to contemplate."

"We'll be seeing you Friday night. Seven in the evening. I'm sure you know where, Mr. Abbott said. They walked to the closed oak doors.

"We'll be there."

He checked with his secretary to see how many appointments he had left that afternoon. "Please call Marianne, Mrs. Potter. Give her my apologies for not calling her myself with the request she come by here after she's done at work."

Mrs. Potter reached for the phone, with a professional, "Yes, sir."

* * * *

Nick started when the intercom buzzer sounded from somewhere under a stack of files. He went to his door. Marianne chatted with his secretary. Her bright smile gave him cause to breathe easy. He hadn't known how she'd react to getting a call from Mrs. Potter with his request she stop by to see him.

Marianne stepped around the large cherry wood desk. "Busy day?"

"You could say that. Thanks for coming by."

She shrugged, like it happened every day. "Such a hardship, seeing you."

"I can tell. You haven't even kissed me hello yet."

His complaint got the desired reaction. She kissed him. Back inside his office, he closed the door. He watched her look around his office, seeing it through her eyes. His large oak desk dominated the far end of the room, placed between the two large windows that overlooked the city.

The wingback chairs set just so before the desk. She turned to look to their immediate left. A black leather sofa sat flush against the wall. A large green and blue rug lay on the floor, anchored with two armchairs and a glass coffee table. The long wall to their right was filled with tall bookshelves that matched his desk.

"What do you think?"

"Very lawyerish. Now I've been to your office. She strolled across the room to his desk.

"Are you free Friday night, to attend a small dinner party being hosted by Mr. Abbott, Mr. Lane and their wives, to celebrate my being made a full partner?"

"Sounds good. Marianne traced the grain of the wood on his desktop with her finger. "You made partner?

"They called me in earlier this afternoon, between clients. I wanted to call you myself, right away, but I had someone waiting."

She threw her arms around him and planted several ecstatic kisses on his face. He laughed as he grasped her upper arms. "There's more."

"Like what?"

He looked over her shoulder, out the windows. The late afternoon sunshine cast a bright light over the buildings which glanced off windows, casting shadows elsewhere. "My stance on marriage is well-known here, or so I'm given to understand. But with large offices, there's a rumor mill here that's been grinding about my new girlfriend. The partners asked how serious we are."

Her eyes grew round as her mouth formed a small circle. "What did you tell them?"

"The truth. That we're going to live in sin together. Now comes the part you may not like so much."

"They said we couldn't live together. She dropped her arms to her sides and stepped away from him. Her palpable disappointment caused Nick to response quickly.

"No, they didn't. It was suggested, however, for the sake of appearances, that we be engaged. Engagements don't necessarily lead to marriage. I know this from firsthand experience. I'm expected to be more social. This expectation extends to you too, since they realize you're important to me."

She pulled a comically appalled face. "A company wife. No. A company fiancée . How absolutely dreadful."

"You're being mouthy again."

"Yes. You're gonna get that a lot, since I'll have to be on my best behavior for these awful company things I'll be attending with you. Fulfilling my fiancéely duties."

"That's not a real word."

"Well, I'm not your wife, so I can't say wifely."

"You're not going to jump up and down? Scream and holler? Nick regarded her with the partial expectation she'd soon throw a temper tantrum. Not that he'd blame her after all the trouble he'd taken to tell her marriage wasn't on his to-do list.

"No, you're getting me mixed up with my mother; she's the lady who does that. I leave the wailing to her. Besides, I know you'll make it worth my while. She loosened his tie, her tongue caught between her teeth.

"You're insatiable."

"That's your fault, Bub. We have to celebrate your partnership the right way. And our engagement."

An hour later, they left his office, disheveled but happy. She held his hand, allowing him to guide her through the maze of hallways to the elevator. They passed several people on their way out, smiling and nodding polite greetings to everyone. When the elevator doors closed them in, she said through her guffaws, "You're gonna get a standing ovation tomorrow morning."

Are men really worth the effort?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The jewelry store down the block from Nick's office was just about to close when they arrived. The owner let them inside saying, "One minute later, and I'd have been down the road."

"We're shopping for an engagement ring, Nick explained while Marianne gravitated toward the displays.

"What size diamond? The jeweler's expression retained a professional detachment.

"Let's start at a carat, and work our way up from there, Nick decided.

"Have a seat over there, and I'll be right with you."

They were presented with a black velvet covered tray. Marianne couldn't believe her eyes. "Don't you have smaller diamonds? These are enormous."

"This one, the owner picked out an emerald cut solitaire, "is a carat. The others with solitaires in a setting of smaller diamonds, go up to five carats in total weight. He picked up another ring, by far the flashiest one in the tray. The pear shaped full carat diamond sat above a wide gold band, perched on golden prongs. Four half-carat weight diamonds surrounded the prongs, while smaller diamonds had been inlaid on the band itself.

"That's too much. She shook her head at the ring.

Nick peered at the tray. He found a two-carat solitaire flanked by deep red rubies. He liked it right away. "May I? he asked.

"Oh, I don't know what that one is doing in here. It's not a traditional engagement ring. But go ahead."

"We aren't traditional. Nick lifted Marianne's left hand to slide the ring onto the appropriate finger. The diamonds and rubies flashed as she brought her hand up for a closer inspection.

"Would you have earrings to match the rubies? Nick asked.

The owner placed the tray back in its place, locking it in before he moved across the store to find the right tray. Nick took her hand again so he could see the ring. "It's beautiful. Just right for you, I think. Do you like it?"

"I love it, but Nick, I can't, she whispered.

"Hush. You can so accept it, and wear it, he told her. He kissed her knuckles above the ring.

"Here we are. I brought several styles, from simple studs to more elaborate."

Marianne peered at the tray. The deep red rubies twinkled at her as she looked at each pair. She finally pointed to a pair of quarter-carat studs. Nick nodded when the owner looked at him in askance.

"Very well. I'll box these. You'll want to wear the ring, I assume?"

"Yes, Nick replied.

"Please, she added. She stood when Nick did.

He moved hair away from her ear to speak to her in a low voice. "Why don't you wait outside? I'll be out after I settle the bill."

"I want to help you pay for this, she replied in a soft voice.

"No, sweetie. It will only take a moment. Please?"

She gave him a good glare to tell him this argument wasn't over before she did as he asked. Marianne kept her back to the store, watching the traffic speed past while she fumed. She couldn't just let him do stuff like this without contributing. When he emerged from the store, she intended to give him a good piece of her mind.

She'd worked hard for her financial independence, and she had no intention of abandoning said independence to a man. This relationship would continue on equal footing, or it wouldn't continue at all. Nick emerged from the store.

He forestalled her complaints as he hustled her down the sidewalk towards a sidewalk café. "Let's eat. I'm starved."

"Nick, we have to talk about this. Keep it reasonable, don't resort to desperation , she told herself.

"What's to talk about? I bought my girl a ring and a pair of earrings. It's a gift. You do know what a gift is, don't you?"

"Of course I do, but - Jewelry didn't come with an inexpensive price tag. She'd never be able to give him a comparable gift - she couldn't afford it.

"No buts, unless we're talking about yours. Smile, say thank you, and give me a tonsillectomy, he requested.

She smiled. "Thank you, but I'm not sure I'm qualified to perform tonsillectomies."

"You're qualified, sweetie. You've had a great deal of practice. If you prefer, we could have a nice game of tongue hockey instead."

"I don't like you spending so much money on me. Marianne refused to be deterred. Not when the subject was something so very important to her.

"I like spending money on you. One of us is going to have to deal with disappointment. And it ain't gonna be me, Marianne. Why can't you accept a nice gift? Nick's eyebrows arched high on his forehead.

She wavered, given that he had a point. But then, so did she. "I don't ... It's not that easy."

"I don't expect anything in return."

Marianne set her mouth in a line, trying to figure out how to explain her feelings to him without offending him. Sure right now he said he didn't expect anything in return, but what about a year down the road? A painfully clean house, hot meals, freshly ironed socks would be what he expected in return for being the dominant breadwinner.

Oh, and mustn't forget the sex. She'd pay for it, sooner or later. At this time, however, she couldn't figure out a way to explain it to him, so she let it go. She aimed what she hoped was a genuine smile at him.

"That's better. Nick handed her a small jeweler's box.

She opened it. Nestled against a white velvet background, the ruby studs she'd picked out less than twenty minutes previously twinkled at her. She put the earrings on and put the empty box in her purse. When she looked at her plate again, another jeweler's box had appeared.

"What's this?"

"Another gift. I'm testing your resolve to accept presents."

She opened the box, stunned to find a gorgeous pair of dangling gold and ruby earrings. Delicate pendulums of gold set with a quarter-carat multi-faceted ruby at the top and bottom with an eighth-carat sized rubies between the larger gems nestled against the black velvet box.

"Oh my."

"I hope you'll wear them Friday night."

She cleared her throat. "I'll have to go shopping."

"Do I get to go too? He leaned towards her with all the eagerness of a young boy offered an irresistible treat..

Sure, she thought, just what she needed: another gift in the form of a dress. She couldn't take any more gifts from him for at least the next five years, as she figured it, maybe more. "No, I want to surprise you."

* * * *

Marianne climbed into the back of the limo, grateful the evening from hell had ended. The little dinner party for Nick turned out to be not so little, at least by her definition of the word. Nick shone. She felt like a pretender - a useless wannabe swimming in the deep end of the pool with sharks.

Too many insincere giggled compliments about her engagement ring and probing questions about how she'd managed to catch the most eligible man in San Francisco gave her a pounding headache. The expensive champagne left her fuzzy-headed, which added insult to injury as far as she was concerned.

"I can't wait to be alone with you. Nick nuzzled her neck. The limo sped toward his condo. "Have I told you how gorgeous you are tonight?"

Marianne managed a weak smile. "At least three hundred times."

"You didn't enjoy yourself this evening. I'm sorry."

"You're a popular guy. I met a lot of jealous women who wanted to know how I captured you. The time had arrived to learn to shrug it off and learn to live with the jealousy she'd seen reflected in the expressions of every single woman she'd been introduced to that evening.

"Is that right? He put an arm around her shoulders. "We could have left sooner."

"No, we couldn't have. This was your evening. You worked hard for this. She wigged her feet out of her shoes and stretched her legs out as far as she could.

"Your evening should improve now. We're going back to my place."

Marianne felt a chill pass through her body. Why didn't that sound reassuring to her? All this time spent together, forging a relationship, and she just now would see where Nick lived. Despite all his reassurances, she still thought it odd he'd never taken her to his home before.

"There it is. Nick lowered the window to give them a better view of the building where his condo was located.

She looked about. This wasn't going to be any modest apartment he lived in, no sir. This high rise was smack dab in prime real estate land. Nob Hill. Suddenly sober, she felt the first vestiges of alarm. Anyone who owned a condo here had mucho dinero. Rolling in it, as a matter of fact.

Her heart thudded in time with the thunder boomers overhead. The limo pulled into a side parking lot, next to the building. The umbrella-wielding doorman dashed out from under the awning over the entrance to open the door for them.

They walked quickly as lightning flashed across the dark clouds, gaining cover just as the rain began to pour.

"Nick? Her voice sounded like a croaking frog. She swallowed hard.

"Marianne."

"Do you live in this building? She eyed another uniformed doorman, who waited by the large glass double doors which led into the lobby.

"I do."

"I was afraid you'd say that."

"Why? He nodded to the doorman, who opened the door for them and held it until they were well past him.

The elegant furnishings of the lobby coupled with the soft trickling sound of a water fountain did little to alleviate her growing alarm. The modern architecture and flawless interior decorating screamed the building's exclusivity.

She sagged against the wall of the elevator after the doors closed, her eyes intent on the panel of what looked to be about one hundred and fifty buttons to push. Her breath caught in her throat when he punched one of the largest numbers on the panel.

"You live on the top floor? Her voice sounded weak to her ears.

"Yes, I do. It was the first condo that came available in this building, and I wanted to live here. Are you afraid of heights?"

"No."

"What's wrong? Nick eyed her, his brows knit together in concern.

What wasn't wrong? There was an entire part of him she didn't know. And he hadn't actively hidden that from her, she'd just been too dumb to ask. When the elevator doors opened onto his floor, she followed him the few steps from it to his front door.

He unlocked the door and ushered her inside. The dim overhead light showed her she stood in an impressive sized foyer. Her heels clicked on the tiled floor as she walked in far enough to not block Nick's entry into his condo.

The sand colored walls were smooth and clean, uninterrupted except for one large oil painting that hung on the wall opposite of the door. To her left, a bank of shuttered doors indicated a closet. Carpeting started where the entry narrowed into a corridor.

"We don't have to stay in the entry, Nick said from behind her. He propelled her forward, his hand on the small of her back as he pushed her gently. Her heels stopped clicking when she stepped on the carpet, and for a wild moment, she wondered if she'd walked off the edge of the earth. Moments later, she found herself in the center of a great room which had views of both the Golden Gate and the Bay Bridges. Marianne stood in the center of the long room, wide-eyed.

"You live here alone? She felt her mouth go dry. When he'd said he'd owned his condo, she never pictured this. She wandered over to a large window to gaze at the bay. She rubbed her hands over her arms - a futile attempt to warm herself.

"Yes, I do. Always have, as a matter of fact. Nick joined her. He wrapped his arms around her, his hands clasped together against her stomach. She tilted her head back to his shoulder, inhaling the musky aroma of his after-shave cologne. At least she had the familiarity of his unique scent and him.

"My entire apartment would fit in this room alone, she whispered. Overwhelmed, she wondered what she had agreed to, after all, if he could afford this then he had to have money coming out of his ears. And he'd bought her an engagement ring as well as two pairs of earrings.

"Not quite. His whisper tickled her ear. "You're nervous being here, aren't you? Having second thoughts about living with me?"

"I'm nervous of the differences I see between us, she admitted. Those differences scared her. He owned this place. It was his . What she could see of the furnishings from her vantage-point told her this home belonged to a man. All wood and leather, no pastel colors to be found.

The enormous windows making up the three exterior walls of his condo provided a panoramic view. She could feel the plush carpet through her shoes, and the carpeting stretched wall to wall. The kitchen, located just behind them to the right, had been designed so that the cook could participate in whatever was going on in the great room. The pine cabinetry didn't look like they were kitchen cabinets so much as they looked like works of art.

The hallway she'd just walked through, ran along one side of the kitchen, closing the kitchen to view at the large entry. She wondered what lurked behind the doors in the corridor. Nick urged her back to the hall. His hovered over, but did not touch, her bottom as they walked.

He opened one of the doors. "My mother calls this the powder room."

Marianne giggled, unable to stop herself, as she peeked into the little room. She'd heard the term before and found it hilarious. The half-bathroom smelled like roses. Rose trellis wallpaper hung on the walls. The hand-towel hanging from an ornate rod matched the deep red of the roses on the wallpaper.

"Your mother decorated the powder room, didn't she?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "How did you guess? All the feminine touches like the stinky dried flowers on the toilet? The trellis wallpaper? Oh, I know! The rose-shaped soaps gave it away!"

Marianne relaxed her guard enough to laugh again. "Do you use it?"

"Hell no, I don't use it. Mother stops by once a month to change the stinky stuff and the towels. I think she cleans it too, but for the life of me, I can't figure out why. It never gets used. You see the pink toilet paper? There's three more just like it under the sink. Mother bought it. Three years ago."

"It's an affront to your manly chromosomes, huh?"

"Very funny. It's hideous. I know, you can redecorate it. Hire people, do it yourself; whatever you'd like. I get migraines just walking past the closed door."

Marianne looked at her feet. Even the deep pink bathroom carpeting was too much. "We have to talk. She glanced up, resolute in her decision to have this discussion right now. How could she belong here? Why did he think she belonged with him? Her style was more denim and cotton T-shirts than the elegance that exuded from his home.

"About?"

"You're, you're very wealthy. Not able to face him, she whirled around. She pressed her hand against the doorjamb to steady herself.

Nick yanked her around. "What does that have to do with anything? You accused me of that before, a couple of times. It doesn't change the fact I find you hard to resist."

"I'm not moving in with you because you have money, she announced. "Or because you need someone to redecorate this awful bathroom. And if I were you, I'd find someone to do that pronto."

"I know that, Marianne. I didn't tell you about my assets, just so I could be sure you wanted me for myself, rather than my bank account. Been bitten by that bug before once. A bug named Suzanne. Why does this bother you so much?"

"I don't make the kind of money you do."

"So what? His fingers bit into the soft flesh of her shoulders when he shook her ever so slightly. "It doesn't matter to me. I don't love you because of your bank account balance. Sweetie, we can go to the bank any time you're ready and open a joint account."

"You love me? Shock made her voice wobble. She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling before she spoke again. "So soon."

He grabbed her fingers. "Soon? Maybe, but how can you doubt I love you when I've asked you to share my life with me? While we were busy back-pedaling away from each other, after our mother's meddling matchmaking attempt, I couldn't help but take notice that you are one hell of a classy lady. You never strayed far from my thoughts those few months after the blow up with your mother."

"I thought about you all the time too, she admitted. "I had to guard myself against you."

"I know you did, Nick said roughly. "I don't understand what the problem is now."

"I don't feel like your equal. There. She'd said it out loud. Nick's turn, and his reaction would decide her next move. Marianne caught her breath as she waited for his response.

Nick exploded. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my life! And I've heard some doozies, Marianne."

"It's how I feel! She wailed.

"I don't get it, Nick conceded defeat. He released her and ran his hands through his thick dark hair. He kept his arms up behind his head as he expelled every last ounce of air in his lungs.

"Look around you. This is your home. Your turf. Your furniture and possessions. You have the upper hand. She flung a careless arm out to include the entirety of the condo. "I can't contribute to the rent or mortgage, because there isn't one. I know you well enough to know you'll balk at any effort I make to contribute to the household upkeep. I'll feel like I have to earn my keep."

Nick cocked his head to one side. "You think I'm going to demand home cooked meals? Dole out an allowance in exchange for services rendered?"

"Can you blame me? she cried. Cruel, the twist of fate that had snatched the dream away. She couldn't do this, not when they were on such unequal footing.

"Not at all, he responded, his tone dry. "I blame your mother."

"I won't live like her, so where does that leave us?"

"Standing here staring at each other like idiots when we should be making love. Of course you belong with me. Furniture can be replaced. You can't be."

"That's all you think about. Sex. Marianne threw her accusation out, loaded with bitterness. She ignored the rest of what he'd said, too upset to hear him.

"No. I think about other things."

"Such as? she demanded.

"Fixing breakfast for you tomorrow morning. Walking in a rainstorm hand in hand with you. Helping you fix my ugly bathroom. Spending the rest of my life with you."

She contemplated his words, gauging his sincerity. "You don't believe in marriage. Even though you gave me an engagement ring, you don't believe in marriage. The ring is for show, something to show off to say to your new partners - hey, I'm socially acceptable, we're engaged! Tears dripped down her face as she concluded his veracity to be questionable. She pushed past him, striding back to the great room.

Rain lashed the picture windows and cascaded down the glass like someone poured it out of a pitcher.

"That doesn't mean we can't have a commitment to each other. You yourself said moving in together makes us exclusive. We can live together, share our lives, our dreams. Have a baby some day, just like we dreamed about. Nick followed her. He rubbed the top of her right hand with his thumb before he grasped her left hand. He twisted the engagement ring there "You don't think I hand out ruby and diamond rings to every woman I've slept with, do you? Isn't this ring on your finger tangible enough proof?"

"I don't know what to think, Nick. I think you knew what you were doing by not bringing me here before now. Suzanne stung you pretty badly, so of course, all women must be like her. You didn't trust me!"

"I do trust you, Nick protested.

"You said it yourself, you had to know that I wanted you for you, and not your assets. But you did it wrong. The test wasn't a fair one. By not sharing all of yourself with me, you didn't give me a fair chance. Marianne fiddled with the ring around her finger, loathe to remove it, but fast coming to the realization she had to take it off and give it back.

"I can't be with someone who doesn't trust me. Deep down, you know you don't. She held the ring out to him.

Nick shook his head. "No. I won't take it back."

"I can't do it this way. I can't keep the ring, it's only for show. I need to be more than window dressing. There's no way I can be with you without a true commitment."

Marianne set the ring on a nearby table before she walked away from him. The hallway to the foyer closed in around her. Her heart broke when she twisted the doorknob of the solid oak door. He hadn't followed her, he didn't try to stop her from going. His choice.

Will they live happily ever after? Tune in and find out...

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"You're seeing somebody, Chloris announced. She swept into Nick's office much like a queen bee.

"What makes you say that? Nick queried. He slid the papers he'd been studying into a folder. Great. His mother figured it out after the affair ended. He didn't want to discuss this now. He didn't like what he'd seen in the mirror Marianne had held up to him.

"You're never home anymore. You weren't home much to begin with, but you're never home on the weekends either. So, you're seeing somebody."

He considered his mother over his steepled fingers as she made herself comfortable in one of the leather wingback chairs on the other side of his desk. "Why don't you just ask your question."

"Why would you think I have a question? She looked up from readjusting her clothing, in an attempt to look surprised.

"Why the sudden interest in my love life, Ma? You've never been this interested before. He tapped his foot against the thick carpet beneath his desk. Ever since the matchmaking attempt, she'd avidly tried to insert herself into his privacy. The amount of trouble she went to, to insinuate herself, bothered him for a reason he couldn't put his finger on. Perhaps if he asked the right questions, he'd figure it out in time.

"All my friends, except Madge, of course, are grandmothers. I feel like I'm being excluded from the sisterhood."

"A grandmother sisterhood? Isn't that an oxymoron?"

"I assume you take after your father in many ways, she hedged. "Ways that would account for your not being home. Is it possible I could be a grandmother and not know it?"

"Anything is possible. He narrowed his eyes. He didn't like the implications, but was in no position to complain. He had a healthy libido, and he refused to be embarrassed by the fact.

"So you admit you're having pre-marital sex."

"I wouldn't call it pre-marital, as I don't intend to ever be married. What's the rush? Why are you in such a big hurry for grandparenthood?"

He watched her straighten up into a ramrod-perfect posture. "It's a matter of pride. I married before Madge, I had a child before she did. I know her daughter is seeing someone, probably someone who doesn't care that she's used goods..."

He held up a hand, schooling his features into the expression he used in the courtroom - cool and detached. "Is this just a one-upmanship contest? Thanks. As for Marianne, who are you to pass judgement on her? He didn't have any intention of listening to his mother slander the woman with whom he had fallen in love with, and so thoughtlessly pushed away.

It mattered squat that the relationship had been a secret from their families and he had to pretend indifference. In this instance, he couldn't sit back and remain sanguine. He waited for her answer, controlling his growing anger with his mother.

"Your father expected me to be a virgin on our wedding night. Why can't my son expect that of his bride?"

His anger flared through him, making him wonder if he had morphed into a demon. "What bride? I told you, I'm not ever marrying. What does Marianne have to do with this anyway? I thought we settled that."

"Such a disappointment the way it all worked out. It would have been perfect."

"Manipulating people into fulfilling your dreams rarely works out the way you plan. You and Mrs. Wilson forgot the most important thing. Marianne and I are adults. We don't need our mommies to arrange our lives for us."

"Was that what you objected to? You liked Marianne? Even if she's not innocent?"

He closed his eyes for a brief moment. Would it do any good for him to explain this to her, since she obviously didn't understand? The problem wasn't that he didn't want to line it all out for her, but that he wasn't sure how to go about it without insulting her values. The same values she'd tried to instill into him as she raised him. Would he be able to explain this without making her feel like a failure of a mother?

"Ma, you have to understand. I don't place the same value on a woman's innocence that you do. There are other considerations which are more important."

The expression on her face conveyed her shock. From the way she eyed him, he thought he might of sprouted horns out the sides of his forehead to go along with his morphing demon alter-ego. "Like what? What could be more important than a woman respecting her future husband enough to save herself for him?"

"For one thing, I don't regard that as a sign of respect for me. But to answer your question, what's important to me is she's happy with herself. Confident. Not afraid of living or new experiences. She's intelligent and independent."

"Not beauty?"

"She could look like the neighbor's bulldog, Ma, but if she has a beautiful soul, it wouldn't matter to me at all."

"I didn't fail as a mother, then, did I? Tears filled her hazel eyes. "I did alright by you. I'm sorry about shoving Marianne at you. You two may have found each other on your own, but in my impatience, I ruined everything."

He came out from behind his desk to offer her handkerchief . He handed it to as he perched on the edge of his desk right before her.

"Do you really feel so strongly against marriage that you can't overcome it? She dabbed at her eyes with the white pressed linen. "Is this woman you're seeing not special enough for you to reconsider?"

"She's very special. But I have already ruined it, he confessed.

"How did you ruin it? Chloris asked. Her mothering instincts charged to the fore; Nick recognized the look of quizzical compassion on her face.

"My aversion to marriage. We were going to move in together. For appearances sake, due to being made partner, I gave her a ring."

Chloris looked appalled. "You didn't! Oh, Nick! Tell me you didn't do it that way!"

"I wish I could. Now I wish I could fix it, he admitted.

"Do you want this woman in your life?"

"Very much."

"Enough to change your mind about marriage? To offer her an honest proposal? His mother's probing gave Nick pause to think. The gloomy feeling which descended the night Marianne fled his condo started to lift.

He leapt out of his chair, lunging around his desk to hug his mother. "You're a genius! An absolute genius!"

Chloris demanded, "You're going to fix your mistake?"

"Yes, I'm going to try."

"Will I ever get to meet her? She folded the hanky into quarters and placed it in her purse.

"You already know her. The admission came out with a great deal of reluctance. He didn't want to betray Marianne's wishes, but he didn't want to leave his mother hurting either.

"I do? Are you going to tell me who she is?"

"You'll find out soon enough, he predicted.

Chloris nodded. She pursed her lips together into a smooch and put her fingers to her lips, locking them. Her eyes twinkled as she announced, "Unlike some people, I can keep a confidence. She winked.

* * * *

"Quit taking your misery out on the coffee beans. Doug snatched the grinder out of Marianne's hands and held it aloft.

"Doug. She sighed. Doug danced out of her way when she reached for the grinder.

"You've been stomping around all week. Your eyes are so red you could fill in for a broken stoplight. What gives?"

"I suppose I should tell you, as it affects you too. I'm not moving in with Nick. You can't move into my apartment this weekend."

"I figured as much. Good thing I haven't packed yet. Doug set the grinder down on the counter. With deft movements, he poured coffee into two cups. He held one cup out to her.

"You straight people can take a simple problem and blow it way out of proportion. So, what's the big deal? You saw his condo and it's too ritzy for you?"

Marianne didn't care for the way he mocked her. "That's only a small portion of the problem."

Doug opened the refrigerated display to pull out two pieces of cheesecake. "You had to know he has money, darling. The suits he wears! Those to-die-for Italian leather loafers are enough to send me into to raptures just thinking about them. He's taken you out to nice restaurants in that fab car of his."

"It's not the money, Doug."

"No, it's that he didn't show you a bank statement first. I don't blame him. Take it from one who has a hefty trust fund. You never divulge that kind of information until you know it's serious. Why, Curtis doesn't know about my money either."

"You don't trust him. She stabbed at the cheesecake with the plastic fork.

"I grew up with money, Marianne. I don't blame Nick for wanting to be accepted for who he is, rather than what's in his bank account. Whoever said it first got it right; money changes everything. It's a noxious weed with the ability to change the color of your life. Money ain't green by accident. Nope. And they don't call jealousy the green-eyed monster for no reason."

"I'm not jealous of his financial status, Doug."

"I know you aren't. Do you know why? Because you got to know the man before you got to know his money. So, you're going to throw away this marvelous man? Doug folded his arms across his chest; exasperation filled his face.

"He is supportive of you. He's devoted to you, and I suspect he can make you orgasm like the world has exploded beneath you."

Marianne looked away, embarrassed. Her cheeks warmed considerably. "I don't want to discuss my sex life with you."

Doug made a raspberry sound. "Spoilsport."

"I've watched my parents over the years. Dad earned the money, Mother ran the house and waited on him hand and foot. I'm familiar enough with her views on sex to guess their sex life is less than spectacular, not that I have any great desire to contemplate my parents doing the wild thing."

Doug laughed. "I've met your mother, darling. You are nothing like her. Give Nick some credit. He's not your father. He isn't gonna have the same expectations."

The bell on the door chimed as someone entered the shop. Caught up in her woe, Marianne paid scant attention to the new customer.

"No, I know he won't, but Doug, he gave me a ring not because he wanted to marry me, but because it made our living arrangements more acceptable to his conventional partners. She tortured her cheesecake. She'd reduced the generous wedge to small bite-sized pieces, yet she hadn't taken a bite.

"Then he did it wrong."

Marianne swung around, taken aback to hear her mother's voice.

"He did it wrong and he's a ... what was that horrid word you used in high school? He's a budhead ."

"Butthead, Doug corrected. He patted Marianne's arm on his away around the counter to make a beeline for the display hutches across the room.

"Butthead. That's it."

"Mother, what are you doing here?"

Madge had the grace to look abashed. "Your father read me the riot act. I suppose he tired of hearing me rant about your living arrangements. When he told me the man in question was Nick Galanapolis, it shocked me. Combined with your parting words after our last luncheon, I realized I needed to think."

Marianne blinked. As she twisted around to face her mother squarely, she knocked her coffee cup over with her elbow. The tepid liquid spread across the countertop unchecked.

"Your happiness is more important to me than anything else in the world. Better late than never, to come to this conclusion. Madge smiled, her uncertainty reflecting in her eyes.

Faced with this nervous version of her mother, Marianne wondered if she'd been transported to an alternate reality. She'd never known her mother to ever admit being in the wrong.

"You see, there's nothing in the world I've relished more than being a wife and mother. My nirvana. Is it a crime for me to want the same joy for my daughter? I went about it wrong, and for that, I apologize. Until your father pointed it out, I didn't realize how much anguish I caused you. Madge held her arms out, making the first gesture of reconciliation.

"You're okay with my choices? Marianne finally found her voice. It sounded raw, scratchy from unshed tears.

"If you're happy, I'm happy. If you're not, I have some boodie to kick. Nobody treats my daughter this way and lives to tell the tale."

Marianne laughed, the ludicrous thought of her mother rushing off in her defense wearing butt-kicking shoes and trying to talk tough tickled her. She rose from the stool and hugged her mother, not minding the nose-prickling amount of perfume Madge wore.

"Let's stick with butt, rather than booty, Mother."

Madge sighed. "I never get the terminology right, do I?"

"S'okay. It's rather endearing."

"So, tell mother all about what Nick did. I have a good mind to call Chloris about his behavior. I know she'll be heartbroken, but she is his mother after all and should be aware of this."

Marianne shook her head. The more things changed, the more they didn't. "Let's go to the back of the store. No one's using the chairs back there. Doug, would you please bring us some coffee and cheesecake?"

* * * *

The arrangements were made. The setting defied description. Perfection, or as close to it as he could come. Nick left his condo to intercept Marianne before she left her shop.

He met Doug at Java's door. The younger man glared at him. "Is she still here?"

"In the back. She's been miserable, Doug replied. "Lord knows I've gotten the brunt of her mood. She dumped coffee over my head on Tuesday, when I suggested she get medicated."

"I hope to mend some fences."

"Well, the left-over coffee is cold. Doug slipped past Nick and disappeared into the crowd of people on the sidewalk.

Nick went into the shop. The familiar scent of coffee wafted on the air. It was comforting, for it embodied Marianne. He heard her thumping about at the other end of the shop. With a quick hand, he locked the front door.

"We're closed! Marianne shouted. Mentally, she cursed Doug for not locking the door behind himself when he left. Her mood had improved tremendously since the heart-to-heart with her mother, but a week of emotional upheaval had taken it's toll on her. Nothing held more appeal than a long, hot shower, and the prospect of her girlfriends coming over for homemade margaritas and girl-talk.

She strode out of her office and came to a complete halt when she saw Nick. His forlorn expression kept her from ordering him to leave. Nice to know he was as miserable as she'd been. That thought cheered her. She stepped back when he moved towards her.

"I owe you an apology, Marianne."

Yeah, he had that right. She owed him one, too. He reached into his jacket pocket while she argued with herself.

"It should have occurred to me the first time I made this proposal to you that I'd made progress. I never would have offered any other woman even the hollow proposal I gave you in my office. My mistake was that I missed the signs."

"What signs?"

"The signs I had offered you the real deal, I just hadn't gone about it in the right way."

Marianne shook her head. "I don't understand. It was all for show."

"To begin with, yes. But the point is, Marianne, I wouldn't have been willing to put on this show with any other woman."

She nibbled on her lower lip as she considered his words. "Are you just saying that or do you really mean it?"

Nick palmed a small velvet-covered box in his hand. He held it out to her. Marianne closed the distance between them. She didn't touch the box, just looked at it, then back up to look him in the eyes.

He opened the box to reveal a diamond-encrusted engagement ring. She recognized it immediately. "This is for real, Marianne. I can't say I'm ready to set an actual date, but I can't lose you either. I meant it when I said I love you, back at my condo last Friday night."

"Oh, Nick. She wiped her fingers across her wet face. Tears ran rivulets down her face.

"Can we be engaged for a while? Will you help me work through my insane feelings about marriage?"

"Yes. I will. I love you too. I'm sorry I let my issues blind me. Of course I'll help you figure it out, just so long as you understand you're doing the cooking or we eat out. I'm a lousy cook."

Nick spit into the palm of his hand, then held it out to her. "Deal?"

She made a face as she copied his actions before grasping his outstretched hand. "Deal."

He jerked her towards him to seal the pact with a kiss.

"Now, what do you say we go consummate this deal? He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Right after we wash our hands, she agreed.

Coming in April 2006

from

Moonlit Romance

Learning to Trust

by Laura Hamby

Janie Powell is a woman on the run. Leaving an abusive ex-fiance behind, forming attachments is low on her list of priorities. However, a certain hardware store owner with the most amazing eyes tempts her resolve. Learning to trust him and embracing the future requires nerves of steel. Will her past let her go?

Myles Channing has his hands full with high-maintenance women. Besides being a woman who needs love and nurturing, Janie is a woman Myles himself could fall in love with easily. Will he be able to teach her to trust men again, him in particular?

Find the rest of this continuity series on sale in May, and June 2006 by authors Shara Jones, and Meg Allison

Visit www.moonlitromance.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.