Come Fly With Me (47 page)

"No
one
but
a
desperate
woman
wears
a
sexy
dress
on
a
Wednesday
night,
and
if
I
put
on
strappy
sandals
I'll
get
frostbite."

"You
are
desperate,
you
just
don't
know
it.
And
I'll
carry
you
the
two
blocks,"
he
offered.

She
shook
her
head
adamantly.

"I
knew
you
weren't
serious
about
meeting
men.
You're
using
the
dating
service
as
a
crutch,
just
like
the
guy
who
signs
up
for
gym
membership
and
then
goes
once."

They
stared
at
each
other.
Finally,
Allison
caved,
"Fine,
whatever,
I'll
put
on
some
stupid
dress
and
catch
the
death
of
me
in
five-degree
weather.
Come
get
me
in
a
few
minutes."

"Maybe
give
yourself
more
than
a
few
minutes
to
get
ready."

"No,
this
little
experiment
is
simply
to
please
you.
Nobody
will
be
trolling
at
the
bar
on
a
weeknight
anyway."

"Nobody
will
be
overtly
trolling,
but
men
are
always
looking.
It
would
do
you
well
to
always
remember
that,"
Kenyon
said.

"I
hate
men,"
she
responded.

"You're
in
a
slump,
but
tonight
we're
looking
for
a
homerun."

"I
hate
baseball,"
she
responded.

"Go
put
on
some
make-up
and
a
smiley
face
and
meet
me
downstairs
in
ten."

****

Allison
wasn't
planning
to
accept
Ken's
offer
of
carrying
her
to
Sam's
Place
and
selected
a
pair
of
over-the-knee
leather
boots.
Her
only
nod
to
their
earlier
conversation
was
the
low-cut
clingy
sweater
and
mini
skirt
that
she
dragged
on.
She
saw
his
disappointment
when
she
took
off
her
coat
and
hurried
to
stave
off
his
critique
of
her
pathetic
outfit.
"I
told
you
this
was
a
waste
of
time.
There's
no
one
here.
I
stand
a
better
chance
with
the
cows
in
Iowa,"
Allison
said.

"We're
here
for
all
of
seven
minutes
and
besides,
the
cows
might
be
the
only
ones
willing
to
make
a
moove
on
you.
I
told
you
to
put
on
a
sexy
outfit.
I'm
taking
you
shopping
next
week."

"I
have
things,"
she
whined.

"Work
with
me—let's
get
your
head
into
this,"
he
said.
"What
are
you
having?"

She
looked
at
Samuel.
"Hey
Sam,
can
you
get
me
an
ice-cold
appletini?"

"Sure
thing,
no
margaritas
tonight?"

She
smiled
at
him,
"I'm
off
those
for
a
while."

Kenyon
looked
at
her,
"Margaritas?
Did
you
get
confused
and
think
this
island
you're
on
is
Bermuda?"

"Don't
I
wish?
Every
year
at
the
start
of
winter
I
promise
myself
I'm
moving
somewhere
warm,
permanently."

"I'm
with
you."
He
swirled
around
on
his
stool
and
faced
the
door,
straightening
as
he
did.
He
nudged
Allison
with
his
elbow,
"Isn't
that
the
Alex
guy
from
the
auction?"
he
whispered.

Allison
turned
and
slowly
glanced
over
her
shoulder.
She
observed
carefully
as
Alex
helped
the
willowy
woman
off
with
her
coat,
and
she
frowned
as
the
blonde
tossed
her
hair
subtly,
leaning
in
to
Alex.

"I
don't
think
so,"
she
said
as
she
turned
back
towards
the
bar.
"Well,
we've
been
here
for
like
an
hour
and
no
one
is
interested
in
me,
so
let's
leave."
Allison
clamped
her
teeth
in
irritation
as
she
saw
Kenyon's
eyes
still
fixed
on
Alex.
"I'm
ready
to
go,
Kenyon,
either
you
can
leave
with
me
or
you
can
continue
looking
at
Alex."

"You
just
said
that
wasn't
Alex,
and
besides,
I'm
not
looking
at
him.
I'm
looking
at
the
gorgeous
woman
he's
with."

Out
of
the
corner
of
her
eye,
Allison
saw
him
hold
up
his
drink
in
salute
and
wave
them
over.
"What
are
you
doing?
It's
bad
form
to
try
to
steal
another
guy's
girl
right
out
from
under
him."

"Maybe
she's
his
sister."

"I've
met
his
sisters."

"Well,
don't
look
now,
but
they're
coming
over,"
he
said
gleefully.

"You
will
suffer
for
this—I
promise."
She
turned
just
in
time
to
hear
Alex
introduce
himself
and
his
date,
Carrie.
Allison
politely
did
the
introductions
on
her
end
and
hopped
off
her
seat
ready
to
call
it
a
night.

"It's
been
fun
bumping
into
the
two
of
you.
Hasn't
it
been
fun?
But
we
were
just
leaving."
She
swatted
at
Kenyon
in
a
vague
attempt
to
get
his
attention.