didn’t answer.
“Bug?”
“That’s not my name.”
“Sorry. Charity. Is that what’s going on with you?” He stood in front of her, one hand holding the suit jacket he’d had to wear in court over his shoulder, the other tucked into the pocket of his dark slacks. He’d locked his beautiful brown gaze with hers, and though Charity wanted to look away, she couldn’t. “Well?”
“Yeah,” she said. “That’s exactly how I feel—not that there’s a lot I can do about it.”
“Want me to fix you up with someone?”
She shook her head. “How about you? I heard one of the clerks in Judge Baker’s office just got divorced.”
“Nah. Too much baggage. What I was really hoping is we could just hang out. You know, so things go back to the way they were.”
“How’s that going to help either of us?”
“I don’t know,” he said, breaking his stare, with his free hand, thumping her open door’s window. “Sorry I ever even brought it up.”
So was she. Because no matter how insulted she was that he obviously didn’t think of her as a woman, she couldn’t get past the idiotic craving she had to go along with his plan. But why help scam his psychiatrist? How would that help Adam? And what about her? How would it feel to only pretend to be his date, knowing she didn’t have a shot at being the real thing? Better yet, follow her original plan to remain just friends? Maybe even sever that tie in favor of finding someone else to declare her best friend? Like a woman who might actually understand some of what she was going through?
“Wanna go with the rest of the gang to Ziggy’s?” he asked.
Yes. “Thanks,” Charity said, “but I don’t think so. Not tonight.”
“Sure? It’s all-you-can-eat baby back ribs night.”
She loved ribs. Would it really hurt to pal around with Adam just one more night?
If she were truly serious about finding a husband instead of a guy friend—yes.
“HOW COME you’re not with Adam?” her big sister, Stephanie, asked that night. She sat on the foot of her bed, painting her toenails Tequila Pink.
“Since when is tequila pink?” Charity asked, reading the name on the bottom of the bottle.
“Probably since the color designers ran out of legitimate pinks. Now, nice try at changing the subject, but you never, ever come to see me on a weeknight unless you need money. So out with it. How much are you short this month and what exotic bug am I helping to import?”
“There are no bugs and can’t I come see you because I miss you?”
“Sure. I’d love it if that were the real reason you’re here.” She put the final coat on her last toe, then screwed the lid on the bottle. Holding it out to Charity, she asked, “Want to do yours?”
“No, thanks.”
“Different color?” she asked, pointing Vanna White-style at her vast array of polish.
“Steph?”
“Yes?” Duck-walking so as not to muss her toes, she headed to her closet for a dress to wear on her date with Dr. Larry, a pediatrician. This was her first real relationship since her amicable divorce with her stockbroker ex, Todd. He was East Coast, she was West, and the two never really met halfway.
“This is going to sound strange,” Charity said. “But do you think I’m pretty?”
“Of course.”
“That was weak. Like you’re just saying that because you’re my big sister. Come on, I can take it. Tell me the truth.”
“Sweetie…” Steph returned to the bed, put her hands on Charity’s knees. “If you’d let me have my way with your clothes and hair and makeup for a couple hours, you wouldn’t be just pretty, but gorgeous.”
“Now I know you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Wanna bet? And what brought all of this on? You’ve never given two figs about your appearance. I’ve always envied that in you. Your knack for being yourself.”
“Yeah, well…” Charity made a face. “Right about now, being me sucks. All my mixed-up feelings are thanks to Adam.” She told her sister what had transpired between her and her supposed best friend—stressing the part about how mortifying it’d been that here she’s crazy in love with him, yet he only sees her as a pal who’d be handy for duping his shrink.
“And so you turned down his proposal?” Steph asked.
“He didn’t propose! He asked me to be his fake date!”
“I know,” her sister said. “You get what I mean. His proposal for the two of you to pretend date.”
“Of course, I turned him down,” Charity reasoned. “You think I shouldn’t have?”
“Well…” In the bathroom, Steph expertly wielded her hair-straightening iron. “Seems to me, if you’re serious about having a baby and husband, maybe you’re going about this all wrong. What if you agreed to be Adam’s date, only to show him how fantastic the two of you could be on another level?”
“Oh, please.” Playing around with her sister’s eyeliner, Charity said, “How am I going to do that when he doesn’t even see me as a woman?”
“That’s a cop-out,” Steph said. “I’ll guarantee if you doll yourself up, he’ll see you differently. And another thing, you’re scared that even if you make an effort to transform yourself into a bona fide hottie, Adam still won’t get the message. And then what?”
“I’m not scared,” Charity said. “Of anything.” Except maybe missing her window of opportunity.
She wasn’t sure why she wanted kids. Because as Adam had pointed out, raising them would take up a huge chunk of her time. Work would be logistically tough. But knowing that didn’t stop the wanting. The yearning every time some lucky woman returned from maternity leave, brandishing her newborn, passing him or her around. When Charity took her turn and felt the trusting warmth against her chest, the impossibly soft scents of lotion and powder, and cute little clothes, she wanted a baby all her own, all the more. Along with the adoring husband proudly standing nearby, lugging around baby equipment.
That was the eternal problem. Sure, in this day and age, all Charity had to do to get a baby would be to pay a visit to the local sperm bank. Surely a town the size of Portland had one, or a dozen. But what was the fun in having a baby if she didn’t have anyone to share it with? Meaning what she really wanted in her greedy heart of hearts was the total package. The perfect little family to match her already perfect job.
Charity pitched the eyeliner in the cosmetics basket and headed for the bathroom door. “I’d better get going and let you finish dressing for your big date.”
“You don’t have to leave,” Steph said. “In fact, why don’t you come with us? Larry’s been saying he’d like to meet you.”
“Thanks,” Charity said at the door to her sister’s bungalow. “But I’ve got a big night. Just got a Eupatorus gracilicornis in from Thailand that needs mounting.”
“Okay, but if you ever want to take me up on that makeover, I’ll be here. Seriously, Charity, enough’s enough where Adam’s concerned. Not that it’s any of my business, but it’s high time you gave the man a wake-up call.”
That made Charity laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“The notion of Adam ever realizing we could be so much more than friends. In fact, I set him up with someone in the hopes of him moving on. That way, maybe I could move along,