Miranda.”
Claire heard a faint “You too, Alec” before she decided she’d had all the toadying up to Miranda she was willing to tolerate for the day. As she grabbed the belt loops of Alec’s khakis and pulled him back into the room with her, she heard the outside door close at the far end of the hallway. Alec closed their own door behind him, and they were alone together. As one, the two of them turned to stare at the queen-size bed in the middle of the room. Then they turned to look at each other. When Claire saw Alec step an almost imperceptible half inch forward, she moved as well. They looked at each other again, then both of them bolted for it, landing in a tangle on top of the spread. Their voices rose together with the cry, “I was here first.”
N O ETIQUETTE EXPERT or fashion maven had covered the do’s and don’ts of crashing a weekend get-together, so Lissa had to improvise her own guidelines. Scott expected the two of them to be tossed out of Miranda’s within seconds, and she had to admit it was likely. But if for some reason she and Scott—or just her, for that matter—were welcomed into the bosom of the party, she didn’t want to be stuck wearing the same outfit for the rest of the weekend. On the other hand, she mused as she flipped through her closet, it would certainly look presumptuous if she showed up with a well-stocked suitcase full of flashy and glamorous outfits. She compromised, putting together a small collection of pants and tops in complementing colors, along with a variety of accessories. She wanted people to notice how good she looked, while still finding itplausible that she was cleverly rearranging the same set of clothes.
It was Lissa’s experience that planes never arrived until at least fifteen minutes after their announced time, so she got to the airport about twenty minutes past the hour she and Scott had agreed upon. After leaving her car with its flashers on in the passenger loading zone, she made her way to the appropriate gate, expecting to see a lone and tormented bachelor wondering if she’d abandoned him. Instead, she came across a gang of cranky and tired friends and family, all of them waiting for passengers on Scott’s plane.
She found an abandoned issue of Glamour, one she’d skimmed several months earlier. She tried to read it, forcing herself to ignore snoring senior citizens as well as a toddler who was launching kick after kick at the cola machine. When a cheer from the crowd announced the arrival of the plane, she watched, impatiently, as businessmen strode past quickly, and as chattering college kids got off the plane in pairs and groups. One devastatingly handsome man, one of the few solo males not dressed in a suit, got off by himself, looked around for a moment, then walked away. Whoever was supposed to pick him up is missing a golden opportunity, Lissa thought as she watched him disappear. She turned her attention back to the crowd disembarking from the plane, but she didn’t see anyone who resembled Scott. Had he chickened out on her?
Obviously, he had. As the crowds ebbed away, leaving her in the middle of their empty candy wrappers and discarded cola cans, she saw that Mr. Handsome had returned. He glanced around, his eyes passing over Lissa, then returning to her.
“Who stood you up?” he asked. His smile told her what he thought of that person.
She flashed her own set of teeth back at him. “Nobody really. My friend’s geeky ex. What about you?”
“I was going to help some girl reporter out, but I guess she got a bigger story.”
The realization of what they’d each said hit her. “Scott?”
“Lissa?”
“But I’ve seen a picture of you,” Lissa sputtered. “You weren’t at all handsome.”
“That picture in Miranda’s book?” he asked her. “She chose that one specifically because it made me look like a dork.” As they walked to the baggage claim area, he said, “I hope you’re as pleasantly surprised as I am. I
Claire heard a faint “You too, Alec” before she decided she’d had all the toadying up to Miranda she was willing to tolerate for the day. As she grabbed the belt loops of Alec’s khakis and pulled him back into the room with her, she heard the outside door close at the far end of the hallway. Alec closed their own door behind him, and they were alone together. As one, the two of them turned to stare at the queen-size bed in the middle of the room. Then they turned to look at each other. When Claire saw Alec step an almost imperceptible half inch forward, she moved as well. They looked at each other again, then both of them bolted for it, landing in a tangle on top of the spread. Their voices rose together with the cry, “I was here first.”
N O ETIQUETTE EXPERT or fashion maven had covered the do’s and don’ts of crashing a weekend get-together, so Lissa had to improvise her own guidelines. Scott expected the two of them to be tossed out of Miranda’s within seconds, and she had to admit it was likely. But if for some reason she and Scott—or just her, for that matter—were welcomed into the bosom of the party, she didn’t want to be stuck wearing the same outfit for the rest of the weekend. On the other hand, she mused as she flipped through her closet, it would certainly look presumptuous if she showed up with a well-stocked suitcase full of flashy and glamorous outfits. She compromised, putting together a small collection of pants and tops in complementing colors, along with a variety of accessories. She wanted people to notice how good she looked, while still finding itplausible that she was cleverly rearranging the same set of clothes.
It was Lissa’s experience that planes never arrived until at least fifteen minutes after their announced time, so she got to the airport about twenty minutes past the hour she and Scott had agreed upon. After leaving her car with its flashers on in the passenger loading zone, she made her way to the appropriate gate, expecting to see a lone and tormented bachelor wondering if she’d abandoned him. Instead, she came across a gang of cranky and tired friends and family, all of them waiting for passengers on Scott’s plane.
She found an abandoned issue of Glamour, one she’d skimmed several months earlier. She tried to read it, forcing herself to ignore snoring senior citizens as well as a toddler who was launching kick after kick at the cola machine. When a cheer from the crowd announced the arrival of the plane, she watched, impatiently, as businessmen strode past quickly, and as chattering college kids got off the plane in pairs and groups. One devastatingly handsome man, one of the few solo males not dressed in a suit, got off by himself, looked around for a moment, then walked away. Whoever was supposed to pick him up is missing a golden opportunity, Lissa thought as she watched him disappear. She turned her attention back to the crowd disembarking from the plane, but she didn’t see anyone who resembled Scott. Had he chickened out on her?
Obviously, he had. As the crowds ebbed away, leaving her in the middle of their empty candy wrappers and discarded cola cans, she saw that Mr. Handsome had returned. He glanced around, his eyes passing over Lissa, then returning to her.
“Who stood you up?” he asked. His smile told her what he thought of that person.
She flashed her own set of teeth back at him. “Nobody really. My friend’s geeky ex. What about you?”
“I was going to help some girl reporter out, but I guess she got a bigger story.”
The realization of what they’d each said hit her. “Scott?”
“Lissa?”
“But I’ve seen a picture of you,” Lissa sputtered. “You weren’t at all handsome.”
“That picture in Miranda’s book?” he asked her. “She chose that one specifically because it made me look like a dork.” As they walked to the baggage claim area, he said, “I hope you’re as pleasantly surprised as I am. I
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