straight to Tony Lamas. What a fake, she thought. “Please tell the gentleman that I’m waiting for my husband. . .that’s my husband, Killer? He’s one of those cage-fighters.”
“Gotcha.” The waitress wandered off to report the bad news.
Heather hardly got a sip of her wine when another cowboy--this one looked real--came over and asked her to dance. He was real all right; he had cow dung on his boots. The boy looked like he needed a new pair of Levis. She told him the same story, but he was persistent.
“But maaa’am, I surely wud like ta daince if yud do me tha honor.”
“What do I have to do?” she shouted over the music. “Put up a sign? NOT AVAILABLE!”
The bowlegged fellow looked dejected and sauntered away.Her cell phone went off, and it was Christina letting her know her mark was in the parking lot approaching the establishment. Scott came in, paid his cover and walked right toward her. She decided not to waste any time.
“Hey big guy, don’t I know you?”
He stopped in his tracks, eyes lit up like a jack-o-lantern. “I certainly hope so. Mind if I join you?”
“Well, I was waiting for my girlfriend, but she just called and said she isn’t coming. So I guess I could use some company. I swear I’ve met you before; your face is so familiar.”
“Probably saw me on TV,” he said sitting up straight.
“That’s it! You’re that weatherman aren’t you?” She made it up. “Knew I’d seen you.”
“You’re pretty sharp,” he lied. “Yeah, I do the local weather on Channel 47. My name is. . .” he frowned as though he was a bit confused, “my name is Tom Foley.”
“Do you always have trouble remembering your name?” she teased.
The waitress returned, and he ordered a Maker’s Mark double.
A couple of those and this guy will put himself to sleep, she thought. “I’ll take another white wine, only give me the good stuff this time won’t you? He’s buying.” She turned back to Scott and reached out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Tom Foley. My name is Shirley Wingo. I just love the way you explain all those complicated fronts and high pressure thingies. For God’s sake, how do you do it?” she drawled as she bent in his direction. His eyes bulged as she almost fell out of her blouse. She reached out and put her hand on his leg.
After two drinks and the most boring small talk she had ever heard, he was practically drooling. “Why don’t we get out of this smoky place?” she suggested.
“Let’s. Would that be your place or mine?”
“Depends,” she said shyly. “I hardly know you, and I’m not that kind of a girl.” She raised her hand and stared at her nails. “I don’t go out with perfect strangers.”
“But you already said you know me.”
“Yeah, I guess I did. Well, since you’re a TV person and all, that should rule out axe murderer. So what’s your place like?” She batted her eyes trying to fake innocence.
“I have a huge house overlooking Moonlight Bay near Clearwater. The hot tub has an amazing view. I think you’ll find it very appealing. I have a large screen theater in the basement. Do you like old movies?”
“Love ‘em,” she said in her sexy voice. She sat up, took a deep breath and her wonder-bra almost exploded. “Do you have An Affair to Remember? ”
“Yep. Got it. That’s a classic.”
“First, let me call my mom.” Heather thought it would be a nice touch. She dialed Christina and said, “Hi mom, guess who I just met? No, not some loser . . . It’s the weather man, that guy on channel 47. Just wanted to let you know I’m going out with him. . . No, no, I’ll be fine. Don’t wait up.”
Heather got in her rental and followed him for the thirty minute trek to his house. He was driving a 2009 Mercedes SLK-Class sports car. Not bad, she thought. He was visibly weaving. I hope he’s sober enough to make it home. The
“Gotcha.” The waitress wandered off to report the bad news.
Heather hardly got a sip of her wine when another cowboy--this one looked real--came over and asked her to dance. He was real all right; he had cow dung on his boots. The boy looked like he needed a new pair of Levis. She told him the same story, but he was persistent.
“But maaa’am, I surely wud like ta daince if yud do me tha honor.”
“What do I have to do?” she shouted over the music. “Put up a sign? NOT AVAILABLE!”
The bowlegged fellow looked dejected and sauntered away.Her cell phone went off, and it was Christina letting her know her mark was in the parking lot approaching the establishment. Scott came in, paid his cover and walked right toward her. She decided not to waste any time.
“Hey big guy, don’t I know you?”
He stopped in his tracks, eyes lit up like a jack-o-lantern. “I certainly hope so. Mind if I join you?”
“Well, I was waiting for my girlfriend, but she just called and said she isn’t coming. So I guess I could use some company. I swear I’ve met you before; your face is so familiar.”
“Probably saw me on TV,” he said sitting up straight.
“That’s it! You’re that weatherman aren’t you?” She made it up. “Knew I’d seen you.”
“You’re pretty sharp,” he lied. “Yeah, I do the local weather on Channel 47. My name is. . .” he frowned as though he was a bit confused, “my name is Tom Foley.”
“Do you always have trouble remembering your name?” she teased.
The waitress returned, and he ordered a Maker’s Mark double.
A couple of those and this guy will put himself to sleep, she thought. “I’ll take another white wine, only give me the good stuff this time won’t you? He’s buying.” She turned back to Scott and reached out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Tom Foley. My name is Shirley Wingo. I just love the way you explain all those complicated fronts and high pressure thingies. For God’s sake, how do you do it?” she drawled as she bent in his direction. His eyes bulged as she almost fell out of her blouse. She reached out and put her hand on his leg.
After two drinks and the most boring small talk she had ever heard, he was practically drooling. “Why don’t we get out of this smoky place?” she suggested.
“Let’s. Would that be your place or mine?”
“Depends,” she said shyly. “I hardly know you, and I’m not that kind of a girl.” She raised her hand and stared at her nails. “I don’t go out with perfect strangers.”
“But you already said you know me.”
“Yeah, I guess I did. Well, since you’re a TV person and all, that should rule out axe murderer. So what’s your place like?” She batted her eyes trying to fake innocence.
“I have a huge house overlooking Moonlight Bay near Clearwater. The hot tub has an amazing view. I think you’ll find it very appealing. I have a large screen theater in the basement. Do you like old movies?”
“Love ‘em,” she said in her sexy voice. She sat up, took a deep breath and her wonder-bra almost exploded. “Do you have An Affair to Remember? ”
“Yep. Got it. That’s a classic.”
“First, let me call my mom.” Heather thought it would be a nice touch. She dialed Christina and said, “Hi mom, guess who I just met? No, not some loser . . . It’s the weather man, that guy on channel 47. Just wanted to let you know I’m going out with him. . . No, no, I’ll be fine. Don’t wait up.”
Heather got in her rental and followed him for the thirty minute trek to his house. He was driving a 2009 Mercedes SLK-Class sports car. Not bad, she thought. He was visibly weaving. I hope he’s sober enough to make it home. The
Similar Books
