“Just don’t...” Cindy said, leaving the sentence unfinished but gesturing to indicate that he should stand back.
“I won’t,” he replied, in a low tone. He guessed it was not a good idea to push her when she was in this mood.
Cindy took a deep, shaky breath. He waited until she met his gaze directly and then said, “I didn’t mean to upset you. Please allow me to make amends. Let me take you to dinner on Saturday night, that is if you have nothing else planned.”
Cindy heard herself saying, as if by rote, “I have nothing else planned.”
“Then you’ll go?” he asked, searching her face as if waiting for her to change her mind.
She nodded dumbly.
He smiled, his white teeth flashing against his brown skin. “Do you like seafood?”
“Why, yes. I do.”
“Fine. I know a place, Neptune’s Table, down in St. Petersburg Beach. It’s about a twenty minute ride. Would that be all right?”
“Okay,” she said. Anything would be all right.
“I’ll pick you up around seven-thirty.” He moved toward the door, intent on getting out before she called back her acceptance.
“All right.”
He stopped, smiled back at her, and then made a hasty exit. Cindy remained in the same spot for about a minute, trying to absorb what had just happened. Then she went into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror.
Her features were the same: straight nose, full mouth, large blue eyes, complemented by pale skin and burnished hair. But she felt different.
“You have a date with a bounty hunter,” she said to the girl in the glass, and then she shook her head.
She must be losing her mind.
* * * *
When Paula unlocked the apartment door at three-forty in the morning, Cindy was sitting on the sofa, an unread book open in her lap.
“You still up?” Paula asked wearily. “Those aboriginal legends must be more riveting than I thought.”
“That’s not it,” Cindy answered, as Paula slung her purse into a chair and slipped off her shoes.
Paula looked at her.
“Drew Fox was here. He asked me to dinner on Saturday night,” Cindy said.
Paula whistled. “Boy. I must say he’s living up to his reputation as a fast worker. What did you say?”
“Yes.”
Paula shook her head. “I can’t understand you. In school you always thought I was too wild; you had to be coaxed along to do anything. And now here you are dating the local heartbreaker, totally unfazed by all the stories I told you about him.”
“I’m not unfazed by them, or by him. As a matter of fact, I find him completely unnerving. But I like him.”
“Of course you do. Everybody likes him; he’s a charmer.” Paula unbuttoned her collar and ran her fingers through her hair. “Listen, kiddo, you’re talking to a veteran of that particular war. I had a monster crush on him the whole time I was in high school, when he was friends with Johnny. But his track was too fast even for me, and he runs it alone.” She peered at Cindy’s face, which was closed. “Okay, that’s all I’m going to say. You’re a big girl, you have to make up your own mind.”
“I have. And I will.”
Paula turned her hands out, palms up, in a gesture of surrender. “Did he say where you were going?”
“Some place in St. Petersburg Beach—Neptune’s Locker.”
“You mean Neptune’s Table?”
“That’s it.”
Paula nodded. “What clothes did you bring? That’s a pretty fancy restaurant.”
Cindy looked stricken. “All I have are jeans and a few skirts. I wasn’t expecting an active social life. What will I wear?”
“Something of mine, I guess. In college that was your usual solution to such a problem.”
Cindy made a face at her. “You forced those clothes on me because you said I was never dressed right.”
“You never were. On the rare occasions that you went out at all you always looked like you were ready for a hot date in the reference stacks.”
“But the sharing was always your idea, right?” Cindy said slyly.
“Right,” Paula agreed wearily, aware of what was coming.
“Then you can hardly blame me for your generous impulses, dear,” Cindy replied. She brightened. “Got any silk dresses?”
“Let’s take a look,” Paula said resignedly, and they went together to her bedroom to ransack the closet.
* * * *
Cindy tried to keep her mind occupied until Saturday came, but found it a difficult task. Her thoughts kept wandering from her work to Andrew Fox and their brief but telling interlude in Paula’s apartment.
She and Paula had found a suitable dress among Paula’s things, a peach silk jersey shift that flattered Cindy’s coloring. It was sleeveless, with a low neckline and a shirred hem that just covered her knees. With her high heeled sandals and appropriate jewelry, Cindy was confident that she would look right for the occasion.
Paula was off Saturday night and had a date also, with a pharmacist who worked in the hospital dispensary. They were going to a rodeo, a prospect that Paula deemed questionable at best, but she liked the guy and was determined to tough it out.
“What do you think?” Paula asked, pausing in the doorway to Cindy’s room. Cindy looked up from the task of examining her panty hose for snags. Paula was dressed in cowboy boots, a tailored shirt with black piping, and western cut jeans; she had a red bandanna tied around her neck. “Too Dale Evans?”
“More like Annie Oakley,” Cindy replied, getting up to look for her bottle of hand lotion.
The telephone rang as she was coming out of the bathroom.
“Will you get that?” Paula called from her bedroom. “It’s probably Mr. Axelrod about his bathtub again. His apartment should be floating like the Ark by now. Tell him the plumber is on the way.”
Cindy answered on the third ring.
“Hi,” a masculine voice said, and she knew who it was. “Are we still set for tonight? This is Drew,” he concluded, unnecessarily.
“Yes, unless you’re calling to say something has come up and you can’t make it,” Cindy responded.
“Oh, no. I just wanted to tell you that the restaurant is on the marina, and it can get chilly there after the sun goes down, so you’d better bring a sweater.”
“It was thoughtful of you to let me know.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll see you at seven-thirty, then, okay?”
“Okay.”
There was a pause. Then, “Cindy, the sweater was an excuse. I really wanted to hear your voice, that’s all. Look for me when the sun goes down. ‘Bye.”
“Goodbye.” Cindy hung up reluctantly, wondering about his sudden admission.
“Who was that?” Paula asked, walking into the living room with her hairbrush in hand.
“Drew Fox. He wanted to tell me to bring a sweater because it gets cold near the water at night.”
Paula raised her brows. “That was nice of him.”
“You sound surprised.”
Paula drew her mouth down at the corners. “Don’t bait me. I merely made an observation.” She headed back to her room, brushing her hair.
“Anyway, he said that wasn’t the real reason he called. It was just a pretext.”
Paula paused in mid-stroke. “What?”
“He said he just wanted to talk to me, hear my voice. Do you know I recognized his right away? All he said was ‘Hi’, and I knew. And he didn’t mistake me for you, either.”
“‘My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of thy tongue’s uttering, yet I know the sound,‘“ Paula recited, batting her eyelashes.
“Something like that,” Cindy said, refusing to be cowed.
Paula shook her head, but wisely refrained from further comment. Cindy retreated to her bedroom to finish dressing, and their doors closed simultaneously, as if by mutual agreement.
Cindy was ready long before Fox was due, which was a mistake. She paced up and down the living room, wishing that Paula had not left earlier so that she would have someone to talk to in order to pass the time. When the doorbell finally rang she jumped, as if she hadn’t been expecting it all along.