fiasco, I headed for the car. Only the battery was dead again. I guess I didn’t let it run long enough.”
“Figures.”
“That’s what I thought. Pretty much par for the course considering the day I was having.” She contemplated the cake, decided one benefit of having skinny thighs was that she could pig out, and cut another piece. “Anyway, I was parked in front of the coffee shop, and so I tied Missy’s leash to the bike rack and went in, figuring maybe somebody had jumper cables.”
“And Walter saw you.”
“Oh, yeah. He saw me, all right.” She leaned forward, wishing she could adequately convey the utter humiliating ickiness of the situation. “He looked right at me... and didn’t have a clue who I was.”
“Oh.”
Tracy stifled a grin. Seeing her friend this speechless was almost worth her humiliation.
Mel frowned, clearly searching for a reply. “Maybe he was preoccupied?”
“That’s what I thought. So I said, ‘Hey Walter. Have you got jumper cables with you?’ He just sort of gaped at me, then asked if we’d met.” With a sigh, she flopped back against her chair. “If it weren’t so utterly pathetic, it would be hysterical.”
“Oh yeah. A laugh a minute.”
Tracy got up and poured Mel a fragrant cup of coffee, then got one for herself. She leaned back against the counter, letting the healing smell surround her. “It’s like I said earlier. Men just don’t notice me.”
“It’s not men. It’s Walter. He’s a first-class creep. The man has so many women in his eye, it’s a wonder he can pick out any face.”
“I’m willing to agree with you on that.” It turned out Walter had had something of a roving eye. Not that Tracy was surprised. She had yet to go out with a man who didn’t suffer from the grass-is-greener syndrome. And Tracy was grass that perpetually needed watering.
She sighed, wondering if she’d ever find a man who’d stick around. “The thing is, even
creeps
remember the women they’ve slept with. Don’t they? I know my hair’s changed, but he couldn’t even place me. Totally clueless.” She took a sip of coffee, then shook her head. “This doesn’t speak well of my skill in
that
particular department.”
“I’m sure you’re fine in that department.” A devious grin spread across Mel’s face. “But it never hurts to practice. Maybe I could set you up with—”
“Your leftovers? No, thank you.” Tracy sighed. She wanted her own men, men who chose her for her. It wasn’t as if she needed to be a knockout like her grandmother, though that would certainly be nice. She just wanted to be noticed. “I’m too shy and I’m too plain.”
“Shy? Oh, please.”
“Maybe not around you, but I don’t do well around new people.”
“Oh, Trace. Who does?”
“You do. My grandmother did.”
“I fake it. I’m
always
worrying about what people think. And I bet your grandmother was painfully shy. That’s probably how she ended up in movies—so she could live another life.”
“Maybe.” Tracy’s brow furrowed as she considered the point. The truth was, her grandmother never had liked public appearances, and she’d always called them a necessary evil. “But that still doesn’t help when I’m trying to meet a guy.”
“You know what they say. Picture them naked. It’ll put you at ease.”
Tracy laughed. “If I’d pictured Leon naked earlier today, I would’ve keeled over from heart failure. Yowza.”
“And you’re not plain,” Mel added, apparently unwilling to acknowledge Leon-the-jerk’s oh-so-substantial attributes.
“Of course I’m plain. It’s a universal truth. Like gravity. The world is round. We need oxygen to breathe. Tracy Tannin is plain.”
Mel aimed her gaze at the ceiling and held out her hands in a silent plea.
“Seriously. I’m too skinny. I’ve got no boobs, no hips, not one single curve—”
“Worked for Kate Moss.”
“—and there’s nothing at all interesting about my face,” she
“Figures.”
“That’s what I thought. Pretty much par for the course considering the day I was having.” She contemplated the cake, decided one benefit of having skinny thighs was that she could pig out, and cut another piece. “Anyway, I was parked in front of the coffee shop, and so I tied Missy’s leash to the bike rack and went in, figuring maybe somebody had jumper cables.”
“And Walter saw you.”
“Oh, yeah. He saw me, all right.” She leaned forward, wishing she could adequately convey the utter humiliating ickiness of the situation. “He looked right at me... and didn’t have a clue who I was.”
“Oh.”
Tracy stifled a grin. Seeing her friend this speechless was almost worth her humiliation.
Mel frowned, clearly searching for a reply. “Maybe he was preoccupied?”
“That’s what I thought. So I said, ‘Hey Walter. Have you got jumper cables with you?’ He just sort of gaped at me, then asked if we’d met.” With a sigh, she flopped back against her chair. “If it weren’t so utterly pathetic, it would be hysterical.”
“Oh yeah. A laugh a minute.”
Tracy got up and poured Mel a fragrant cup of coffee, then got one for herself. She leaned back against the counter, letting the healing smell surround her. “It’s like I said earlier. Men just don’t notice me.”
“It’s not men. It’s Walter. He’s a first-class creep. The man has so many women in his eye, it’s a wonder he can pick out any face.”
“I’m willing to agree with you on that.” It turned out Walter had had something of a roving eye. Not that Tracy was surprised. She had yet to go out with a man who didn’t suffer from the grass-is-greener syndrome. And Tracy was grass that perpetually needed watering.
She sighed, wondering if she’d ever find a man who’d stick around. “The thing is, even
creeps
remember the women they’ve slept with. Don’t they? I know my hair’s changed, but he couldn’t even place me. Totally clueless.” She took a sip of coffee, then shook her head. “This doesn’t speak well of my skill in
that
particular department.”
“I’m sure you’re fine in that department.” A devious grin spread across Mel’s face. “But it never hurts to practice. Maybe I could set you up with—”
“Your leftovers? No, thank you.” Tracy sighed. She wanted her own men, men who chose her for her. It wasn’t as if she needed to be a knockout like her grandmother, though that would certainly be nice. She just wanted to be noticed. “I’m too shy and I’m too plain.”
“Shy? Oh, please.”
“Maybe not around you, but I don’t do well around new people.”
“Oh, Trace. Who does?”
“You do. My grandmother did.”
“I fake it. I’m
always
worrying about what people think. And I bet your grandmother was painfully shy. That’s probably how she ended up in movies—so she could live another life.”
“Maybe.” Tracy’s brow furrowed as she considered the point. The truth was, her grandmother never had liked public appearances, and she’d always called them a necessary evil. “But that still doesn’t help when I’m trying to meet a guy.”
“You know what they say. Picture them naked. It’ll put you at ease.”
Tracy laughed. “If I’d pictured Leon naked earlier today, I would’ve keeled over from heart failure. Yowza.”
“And you’re not plain,” Mel added, apparently unwilling to acknowledge Leon-the-jerk’s oh-so-substantial attributes.
“Of course I’m plain. It’s a universal truth. Like gravity. The world is round. We need oxygen to breathe. Tracy Tannin is plain.”
Mel aimed her gaze at the ceiling and held out her hands in a silent plea.
“Seriously. I’m too skinny. I’ve got no boobs, no hips, not one single curve—”
“Worked for Kate Moss.”
“—and there’s nothing at all interesting about my face,” she
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