Outward Habit


by JP Kraft

Opinion's but a fool that makes us scan
The outward habit for the inward man
- Pericles, II.ii.55.

"Okay, Cassy, it's all set." Brad Connors, head of the PBPD's computer information systems, whispered as he passed the detective's desk.

"Thanks." Cassy winked and favored the man with a flashing smile. The smile turned to a satisfied smirk as she spotted her partner pushing his way through the palm tree decorated doors. **It's payback time, Thomas.**

"Morning, Cass," he mumbled around a mouthful of doughnut, while juggling a steaming cup of coffee and a handful of files.

"You keep eating like that and you won't be able to get those pants buttoned," she teased.

He threw her a scornful glance. "Nah, I still weigh the same as I did in college. Why do you care if I can't button my pants, anyway?"

"I don't," she said coldly. "But I don't want to be embarrassed tomorrow night at the party."

"Party?" A look of confusion flashed across his face. "There's a party?"

"Yes, there's a party."

"Oh, oh right, the getting to know your co-workers' party." He swallowed the last bite of doughnut and washed it down with the remainder of his coffee. "That is such a stupid idea," he sputtered. "I know my co-workers; what's the point of this party?"

"The point, Thomas, is that we don't know everyone who works in the department."

"Yes we do."

"Okay, hotshot, who's Paula?"

"Paula's the woman in records who logs in our DMV requests and sends them to us when she gets the information."

"Right, and how often do you contact Paula?"

"Oh, I don't know," he frowned. "Maybe three, four times a month?"

Cassy nodded in agreement. "So what does she look like?"

"She well she's she ." He shrugged. "You got me."

"My point exactly," Cassy gloated. "There are people in the department who we work with on a regular basis, but we don't have a clue who they are. So this party' is to help us all get to know each other better."

"And you'll both be there, won't you, Sergeants?" Lipschitz glowered over the rim of his glasses at them.

"Right, Harry."

"Sure, Skipper."

Leaning down, he rested a hand on Cassy's desk. "Make sure he gets there," he muttered in her ear.

"Oh, he'll be there," she said brightly. "He's even bringing a date."

Tom waited until his captain was out of earshot before exploding. "What?"

"It's part of the fun." Her smile grew brighter. "Everyone who isn't married, or otherwise involved is assigned a mystery date. Check your interoffice mail. All the women are getting notes telling them what time to be ready and all the men are being given addresses and pick-up times."

Acknowledging her words with a nod, Tom scrambled through his mail. "Okay, here it is." He ripped open the envelope, quickly scanning the contents. He blinked and looked across the desk at Cassy. "This isn't your address."

"Of course not."

"But, I mean, you're my partner."

"Duh, you already know me. The whole purpose of the party is to get to know new people, or get to know old people better."

"Well, I'm a cop, Cassy, and I hate surprises." Going to his pc, Tom selected an entry and typed in the address he held in his hands. "I'm locked out," he protested indignantly.

"Well sure, otherwise there wouldn't be any surprise. None of us is able to find out who our dates are until we meet at the front door."

"So you're telling me that you don't know who your date is? That you're going out with a stranger?"

She shrugged. "He won't be a complete stranger. And I'm sure his tux will have pants."

"You're still mad about the kilt?"

"Do you have any idea how stupid you looked?"

"Yeah, not nearly as stupid as you wanted me to look, based on the number of women who tried to pick me up."

"Don't flatter yourself," she scoffed. "The only thing they were trying to pick up was your skirt."

"Kilt."

"Whatever," she sneered at him. "The point is that whoever I'm going with has pants to match his tuxedo jacket."

His eyes grew wider. "Tuxedo? This is a formal party?"

"Yep, so I'd polish up the old chariot if I were you."

"Cass ," his tone softened.

"No way."

"Cassy, come on," he wheedled.

"No. I am not letting you use my car."

"It's my car," he hissed.

"Was your car," she countered, rising from her desk and walking briskly to the door. "See you tonight, Tom."

The satisfied smirk stayed on her face all through the short drive home.

straightening tug. Standing first on one leg and then the other, he shook out his trouser legs, eyeing the break critically. Once more he checked the numbers on the small neat house against the numbers on the crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

"Okay." With a slightly trembling finger, he pushed the doorbell. His mind kept running at warp speed through all the names and faces of the unattached women he knew in the department.

When he'd first joined the Palm Beach PD, he'd done his fair share of dating from the office pool. Never seriously, though, until Cassy. He'd fallen head over heels in love at first sight. They'd broken the cardinal rule: thou shalt not become romantically involved with thy partner. Well, he'd paid for his sin. She'd broken his heart and his bank account. He'd accepted his loss, albeit with something less than a gentleman's grace, particularly where his dog and his car were concerned, and moved on. At least he thought he'd moved on, until Harry teamed them up again, and Cassy saved his life by putting a bullet into a perp a split second before the perp put a bullet into him. A lot of old feelings were stirred up in that instant between life and death. Feelings he didn't want. Feelings he was still struggling to resolve. Well, maybe his mystery date could help with the resolution.

He pressed the doorbell again. Maybe she wasn't home. Maybe she found out he was her date and she decided not to go. Maybe-

The latch clicked, and the door swung open.

"Tom?"

**Oh my god.**

Her large brown eyes were subtly shaded in shadow, liner, and mascara. A whisper of powder controlled the shine on her smooth skin. A kiss of blush, brought a warm glow to her cheeks, and a dab of rich red lipstick polished the pouting lips. Her dark brown hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders, licking delicately at the neckline of her burgundy velvet dress. The dress hung in gentle folds, skimming the curves of her body and rippling over the top of her silver evening slippers.

His heart skipped a beat.

********

The chime of her doorbell brought Cassy to the door at a run. "I'm coming, I'm coming, hold on." Yanking the door open with one hand while struggling to put her shoe on with the other, she slipped and tumbled into the waiting arms of her date. "Oof, sorry." Pushing off the male body, she finally caught a glimpse of her companion. "Brad?"

Connors smiled ingenuously. "Hi, Cassy. Ready for the party."

"Sure," she panted, trying to catch her breath. "Why am I not surprised to see you?"

"Hey," he started defensively, "what's the point in setting things up if you can't tweak the results a little. After all, I did it for you didn't I?

She flashed a quick smile. "So you did. Gimme a minute to put on the finishing touches and I'm ready."

Hurrying back upstairs, she fitted crystal earrings onto her earlobes and fastened a matching necklace around her neck. Stepping back, she eyed herself critically in the mirror over her dressing table. The halter topped black sheath fit like a latex glove. The deep vee neckline displayed her firm bosom to its legal limit and the thigh high slit up the side showed almost every inch of her shapely left leg. Adding another coat of gloss to her lips, she blew a kiss to the woman in the mirror and walked back downstairs to her date.

He was sitting on the sofa, leaning back into the overstuffed cushions and thumbing through the latest issue of Vogue. "Do women really wear clothes like these?"

"Nah, we just read the magazine for a good laugh. The women in there are no more real than the guys in GQ."

"You mean those guys aren't real?" he teased. "I'm crushed. You've shattered all my illusions."

"All?" She looked up into his sparkling blue eyes. **How come I never noticed how good looking he is before?**

"Well, maybe not all." He smiled appreciatively at her. "You look terrific, Cassy."

"Thanks, so do you. I think," she said, picking up her keys and leading him to the door, "that I'm going to be the girl with the best looking date at the party."

"Hmm, I don't know about that. Speaking from a male perspective, I can say there are some pretty good looking guys who work in the department."

"You think so? Boy," she laughed, "I know women check each other out all the time, but I didn't think guys did it, too."

"Of course we do." He smiled, flashing perfect white teeth. "Guys are just as vain as women, but we cover it up better. We're not supposed to be concerned with how we look."

"Oh, that's right, I remember now; that's why Tom took twice as much time in the bathroom as I did."

"He did?" Brad shook his head. "Boy, and I always thought Tom was more concerned with his car than his looks."

"You may be right. When he wasn't in the bathroom, he was fiddling with that damn car. Sometimes I think he loved that car more than he did me."

"Well, if he gave his car more attention than you, he's a fool." Stepping in front of her, he opened the door to his BMW, waiting for her to slip inside.

"Yeah, I suppose you could say that." She settled back against the soft leather seat. "Speaking of the fool, he should be picking his date up right about now."

"Yep," he smiled. "You think they'll show?"

"Oh, they'll show. Tom's the world's biggest boy scout. He always does his duty."

"Right," Brad's laughter joined with Cassy's. "But boy scout or not, I don't think he's gonna be prepared for tonight."





"Hello, Thomas." She looked him over from head to toe, obviously Tom's eyes opened wider as his breath caught in his throat. He never thought he never expected "Marnie." liking what she was seeing. "There is a god," she muttered.

He swallowed, trying to pull some moisture through his parched vocal chords. "I-I'm-I'm-"

"Surprised? Delighted? Horrified?" she deadpanned.

"No, no." He swallowed again, finally getting his voice back into some semblance of working order. "Surprised, that's all. I didn't know who my date was supposed to be."

"Well, if it's any consolation, neither did I."

"You mean you didn't set this up?"

"No, and don't think I didn't try," she admitted honestly. "Someone a whole lot sneakier than me set up so many system blocks that I couldn't get in."

"I see." He looked at her thoughtfully. "You-you look-"

"What? Nice? God, Thomas, please don't say I look nice."

"I wasn't going to say nice, Marnie. I was going to say pretty. You look pretty."

She looked into his eyes. He'd lost the surprised look that had crossed his face when she first opened the door. "I- thank you," she stammered, for the first time at a complete loss for something to say to him. He'd always been such a safe target for her barbs and innuendoes. He was Tom Ryan, chief stud detective, defender of all things straight and narrow, and definitely taken, even if he didn't realize it. That's what made him so safe. She knew she was all talk, but he didn't, and that's what made teasing him so much fun. But now, this Tom standing before her was different. And she didn't know how to react to him.

He broke the awkward silence. "Um, are you ready to go?"

It was her turn to step back. "You want to go to this party with me?"

"Sure, why-why not?"

Shaking her head in disbelief, she gazed up the nine inch gap between their eyes. "Why? We've obviously been set up. Why give them the satisfaction?"

He smiled, a wicked grin that set green sparks dancing in his hazel eyes. "Because, my dear Ms. Willis, the joke is going to be on them."

Her grin matched his. "I like the way you think, Thomas." She stepped back inside to pick up her evening bag and then stepped out again, shutting the door firmly behind her. "I heard about the kilt," she teased. "I'm kinda sorry you're not wearing it. I always wanted to know what a man wears under one."

He bent down and whispered in her ear.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Really? Well, Thomas, I never would have guessed you were the type."

"Oh, I'm just full of surprises." Smiling broadly, he offered her his arm and escorted her out to his VW. "Sorry about the car," he said softly. "I wish it were something a little more ."

"Sexy? Ah well, you know what they say about men who drive sports cars." She looked pointedly at his crotch.

He blushed and caught the saucy wink she threw him. He laughed again, surprised at how relaxed he was feeling. "Marnie, something tells me that this is going to be a night to remember."

With a twist of the ignition, they chugged off into the night.

The party was in full swing when Tom and Marnie arrived. The Comissioner's wife had organized the affair, and pulled in some heavy favors. The ballroom of the Royal Shores Country Club had been donated for the evening's festivities, as had the services of the hottest jazz combo in town and the Shores's own cordon bleu catering staff.

Despite the sneers on the faces of the parking valets, Tom was in a good mood. He had a pretty good idea who arranged his date for the evening. He just wasn't sure how she'd managed to pull it off. He looked down at Marnie who was standing just outside the ballroom door with a look of fear on her face. "What's wrong."

"I can't do this," she whispered. "They'll all be laughing."

"Yes, probably, at first," he agreed. "But only if we let them. Where's the Marnie I know, the one who attacks me at every available opportunity?" he chided gently.

"She's at home, hanging in the closet with her starched uniform and sensible shoes."

Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him fully. "Look, you're smart, and you're funny, and you're looking very pretty tonight." He slipped his hands down her arms until he could take her cold hands in his. "I know you're scared. But I also know that you're strong. If we don't walk in there, if we turn around and run, then whoever set this up wins, don't you see that?" She nodded, looking down at her feet. "But if we go in there and have a good time tonight, we come out the winners."

Her head lifted. "Is that what this is about, winning and losing?"

"Partly," he said honestly. "But it's also about not letting ourselves be manipulated by other people. Look, I've got a pretty good idea that Cassy's behind this little blind date. She's still pissed at me for the kilt. And yes, I want to get back at her. But there's more to it than that. I'm used to her taking potshots at me, but she had no right to pull you into this and make you part of her joke.

"Please, Marnie, come inside with me. We'll dance, and laugh, and eat, and have a good time."

"Promise?"

"Scout's honor," he said, saluting smartly.

She let out a long breath. "Okay, let's do it." Taking his proffered arm, they walked toward the ballroom door. "Thomas?"

"Yes?"

"Were you ever a boy scout?"

"No."

"Good."

***********

Cassy craned her neck, looking through the crowd. "I can't believe they're not here yet. I know what time he was supposed to pick her up and how long of a drive it is."

"Maybe they had car trouble," Brad suggested, sweeping her into a turn in time with the music.

"I allowed for that," she replied.

"Cassy, just relax, you'll know when they get here, everyone will know, believe me. They're a hard couple to miss."

She snickered and he joined in the laughter. God, she wished she could have seen the look on Tom's face when Marnie opened the door. Still, she'd lived with him long enough to see that shocked, deer-caught-in-the-headlights look that he always got when he was surprised. Meanwhile, she was here with the best looking man in the place. It was surprising really, that she hadn't noticed Brad Connors before. Oh, not that she hadn't noticed him, but never in the way she saw him tonight.

At six foot six, he towered over most of the other people in the room. His thick, wavy blond hair matched hers, and his blue eyes had a turquoise cast to them. With his classically chiseled features and the hard, muscular body she could feel pressing against her while they danced, he was without question the catch of the evening. And he was all hers.

Brad stopped dancing suddenly and she bumped up against him. "What's wrong?"

He nodded toward the entrance. "They're here."

Cassy turned, along with most of the other people in the room, to look at the couple framed in the door way at the top of the stairs.

**It's like that scene in Cinderella,** Marnie thought. **Everyone looking up when she walked into the room. But they're not seeing Cinderella tonight, they're just seeing me. Seeing me and laughing at me.**

Tom paused at the top of the stairs. Clasping his free hand over the hand she'd laced around his arm, he bent and whispered in her ear. "You're the most beautiful woman here, don't you dare forget that."

She smiled, showing off well formed white teeth. "Liar."

Standing straight and tall with a smile on his face, Tom led his date into the ballroom and on to the crowded dance floor. Pulling her against him, he began a slow waltz. "Ouch."

"Sorry, I never learned to dance."

"Why not?"

"No one ever asked me so I didn't see the need."

"Okay. Stay with me, now." Tightening his grip, he pressed her body firmly against his and maneuvered her toward the French doors at the opposite side of the dance floor.

To her surprise, Marnie didn't trip over her hem, or his feet, and managed to cross the distance without a mishap. Her face was flushed and she was panting with the effort, but she was convinced that beyond their odd appearance as a couple, she hadn't embarrassed him. She gave the ballroom a final glance just before Tom whisked her through the doors. A satisfied smile crept onto her lips as she saw Cassy staring at her.

Tom caught the look and followed her eyes. He flashed Marnie a bright smile and pulled her even closer to him. Resting his cheek against her hair, he smiled inwardly at the shocked expression on Cassy's face.

**********

There was quite a temperature difference between the packed ballroom and the outdoor patio. Marnie shivered involuntarily as a cool wind blew in off the intercoastal waterway. Realizing she was still holding Tom's hand, she released him suddenly and moved off to sit down on a bench.

He followed, dropping gracelessly onto the seat, a frown creasing his brow. "Damn, I never realized it would be that packed," he muttered in irritation, while running a finger around his sweat soaked collar. "It's hotter than hell in there." He turned toward her in time to see another shiver run through her ample frame. "Hey, are you all right?"

"Oh I'm just fine," she said flatly. "I just love being the center of attention at big parties full of gorgeous women in tight dresses." She shivered again as the breeze picked up.

"You're cold." He moved quickly, standing and beginning to take off his jacket.

"Oh please, Thomas, spare me."

"What?"

"The chivalry." There was more than a hint of annoyance in her tone. She looked up at the puzzled expression on his face, and her anger increased another notch. "You were gonna, what? Offer me your jacket? Get serious."

"Why? You're cold, I just thought-"

"You didn't think. Like your jacket is really gonna fit me?" She stood up, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. "Then what, you take me back through that crowd so they can have another laugh?"

He sat down, clearly troubled by her words. "They're not laughing," he began.

"Yes they are. Get real, Thomas. Look at them," she gestured back toward the ballroom where faces could be seen peering out through the long windows. "They're watching us. Look," she pointed at two familiar faces, "there're Brad and Cassy, they can't wait to see what we're doing out here."

"So," he said, rising and moving to stand in front of her, "why don't we give them something to look at?" Slipping a hand through the dark hair at her shoulders, he bent towards her. She slapped his face. "What the hell?"

"Listen up, Ryan, I'm through with this little game. If you and Cassy wanna play these sick little power games, that's fine. But I'm not going to be a part of them. Not anymore." She turned and moved toward a walk that edged the perimeter of the building.

"Damn it, Marnie, wait."

"Why should I?"

"Please, listen to me."

She stopped, cutting him in two with her gaze. "So talk."

"You're right," he confessed. "I was using you to get back at Cassy. I had a bad feeling about tonight every since she told me about this stupid party. I knew the minute you opened the door that this was a set-up." He looked down at his shoes, too ashamed to look at her. "I'm sorry, Marnie." He pulled his eyes up to meet hers. "Truly."

He was, too. She could see it written all over his face. She sighed heavily. It was like dealing with a child. Everything was written clearly on his face. He was so up-front, so honest, she wondered how he survived all the shit he had to deal with as a cop. "All right, Thomas." A wicked grin settled on her lips and her eyes narrowed craftily. "I'll go back in there and we'll stay for an hour, then we leave."

He glanced at his watch and frowned. "But it's too early, we've only just arrived."

"So we have," she agreed. "But during the next hour you're going to be the most attentive man in the room. You'll take me around and formally introduce me as your date." She saw him flinch and her resolve deepened. She'd show them all. She was here with one of the best looking men in the department and she was going to take full advantage. For one night, she was going to be a queen. "And then we'll leave, and it'll be obvious that we're leaving so early for only one reason." His eyes grew wider and she smiled deep inside. God, he was so easy to read. "You'll take me home and come inside, and then we'll make love until dawn."

He shook his head slowly. "Marnie...."

"What's the matter, Thomas? Don't you want to get naked with me?" His face flushed deep red. She dropped her voice to a throaty growl. "I can't wait to cover your body with chocolate syrup and lick it off... slowly."

He looked positively sick. "What is it with women and chocolate?" he muttered.

"So what's it gonna be? Do we go back inside now or shall I call a cab?"

Marnie was right; he was using her to get back at Cassy. It was dishonest, and he was ashamed that he'd fallen into the trap. Throwing a quick glance toward the lighted windows, he could see faces peering out into the darkness at them. One way or another he was stuck. One way or another he was going to be the topic of conversation around every coffee pot in the precinct tomorrow. His pride made him pull Marnie into this little game, and now he'd have to pay the price for his actions. "Okay, we go in."

"They're coming back," Cassy snickered, leaning closer into Brad's hard body.

"You are enjoying this entirely too much," he responded, pulling her even tighter against him.

She smiled brightly. "Let's go say hello. It'd be rude not to."

"Sure." Wrapping his arm possessively around Cassy's waist, Brad steered her through the crowd toward her partner. "Tom!" he called, stopping the other couple at the brightly lit entrance. "Tom, it's great to see you."

"Hello, Brad, Cass." Tom tried to smile as Marnie pressed up suggestively against him.

"Hi, Tom." Cassy grinned up at her ex. "So, Marnie's your surprise date."

"Yes," Marnie answered smoothly. "Thomas and I were both surprised." Her eyes narrowed. "Brad, how're things in computer systems these days? Running any new programs?"

"You know how it is, Marnie, same old same old."

"Looks like something new tonight," Tom muttered under his breath.

"And what's that supposed to mean, Thomas?" Cassy asked.

"Nothing, Cass, nothing at all." Taking a deep breath, Tom turned to his date. "Would you like to dance?"

"All right, but not too long." Marnie smiled up into his eyes as she ran a caressing hand down his chest. "We don't want to wear ourselves out too early." She allowed herself to be guided out to the dance floor. Stopping for a moment, she turned back to Cassy. "Don't expect your partner to be exceptionally bright eyed in the morning. I plan on keeping him up for most of the night." Her voice dropped as she leaned closer to Cassy. "If you know what I mean." With a sly wink in the blonde's direction, she turned back to her escort. "Hold me close when we dance, Thomas, it's easier to picture you naked that way."

Cassy muttered under her breath. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Come on," Brad chided. "You know how straight Ryan is. He'll take her to her door and that'll be the end of it. Can you seriously imagine the two of them in bed together."

The image of her tall, slim partner entwined with Marnie's more than ample flesh caused Cassy to giggle, then laugh out loud. "Even Tom isn't that hard up," she whispered against Brad's firm chest.

"I'd say it's a pretty safe bet that Tom will be neither hard nor up tonight," he laughed back. "Come on, let's get some champagne and forget about them. We'll make our own fun."

"Yes," she agreed, feeling a pleasant tingling between her thighs. "We will."


It was the longest hour of Tom Ryan's life. He endured sly snickers to his face and whispers behind his back. Not to mention Marnie's hands on his body every chance she got. Finally it was over and he guided her thankfully back to the Volkswagen.

Pulling the car into the driveway leading to her small house, Tom shifted into park, switched of the ignition, and waited for the engine to stop sputtering. He kept hoping, during the silent ride home, that she'd release him from his promise, but that didn't happen. And why should it? He used her; why shouldn't she use him? It was fair. And let's face it, under other circumstances he'd probably enjoy being used. He felt her hand, moving lightly on his knee before coming to rest on his upper thigh.

"It's time to walk me inside, Thomas."

Her voice rumbled low in his ear, and he couldn't stop the reflexive flinch when her tongue touched his earlobe. "Stop that!"

"Why, Thomas, Have you forgotten our bargain, or are you just playing hard to get? Or," she continued, "are you just hard?"

His face wrinkled in disgust. "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

He pried her hand from his leg. "Make comments like that."

"Like what?"

"Like-like about me being hard."

She smiled. "Because it makes you blush."

"I do not blush." He was indignant, forcing his car door open and slamming it shut behind him.

"Oh, Tom." She chuckled, shaking her head at him. "You are so easy." Walking to the front of the little car, she took his arm possessively. "We had a bargain remember? I went to your little party and played your game, and now it's time to play mine."

She was right. A deal had been struck. He'd promised, and he always kept his word. Plastering a sickly smile on his face, he moved with his date up the walk to her door.

Marnie's home wasn't what he expected. From all her innuendos, he was expecting red velvet and tassels. What he found was a surprisingly modern decor, with few of the standard feminine touches he usually found in the homes of women he'd dated.

"Take off your jacket," Marnie invited, "and your tie, and anything else you'd like. I'm just going to go into the bedroom and slip into something more comfortable." With a saucy wink, she was gone. Leaving him to his imagination.

"Oh, lord," he groaned. "What have I done?"

Sighing heavily, he stripped off his jacket, removed his necktie, and opened the button at his collar that had been slowly strangling him all evening.

"Just make yourself at home, Tom," Marnie's voice carried to him from the bedroom.

With a fatalistic shrug, he moved toward the couch. **No sense in delaying the inevitable.** Sinking down into the surprisingly firm cushions, he picked up a large book lying on the coffee table. Experimentally, he began leafing through the pages. **Oh my god.**

"You're looking a little flushed, Thomas. Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm-I'm...." He looked up, shock, surprise, and embarrassment all registering on his face.

Marnie smiled, gesturing at the book of nudes spread open on his lap. "Give you any ideas?"

He slammed the book shut. "No!" His eyes widened as he took in her change of clothing.

********

"Come on in Brad, make yourself at home." Kicking off her high heels, Cassy led the way into the apartment. Moving to the refrigerator, she pulled out a bottle of wine, grabbed two goblets off the counter, and turned back to her date.

He was sitting in the armchair she'd place at right angles to her couch. Bright moonlight spilled through the lace curtains, turning his blond hair to silver. He turned toward the window and Cassy could see his perfectly chiseled features.

**He's absolutely gorgeous,** she thought, gazing at the man. No imperfections marred the smooth surface of his skin, or interrupted the fluid lines of his lips. She knew from dancing with him that the muscles beneath his perfectly cut tuxedo came from hours of workouts at the gym instead of rough and tumble pick-up games in the park.

He turned to look at her, and for the slightest moment, she thought she saw hazel eyes looking back at her. She blinked hard and the hazel turned crystal blue. Flustered, she extended a glass. "Wine?"

He shook his head. "Better not, I'm a little tired and I've still got to drive home."

"Not for a while," she said, sitting on the edge of the couch closest to his chair. "Besides, we have to toast our success."

He flashed a perfect smile. "So we do." Taking the bottle from her hand, he poured out the Chablis. "To a perfect plan," he toasted.

She smiled seductively. "To a perfect evening."

A grin spread across his features. "To the happy couple."

Cassy snorted. "Right." She laughed aloud. "I can just imagine what's happening now. He's taken her home. She's gotten him inside."

"And deadbolted the door," he snickered.

"And then she excuses herself to slip into something more comfortable."

"What?" A drop of wine spilled as laughter shook his body. "A chiffon awning from Fredrick's of Hollywood?"

"Right, complete with crotchless panties and spike heels. Oh god," she wiped a laughter induced tear off her cheek. "I can see it now."

Brad grimaced. "I'd rather not."

"Maybe you're right," she gasped, getting her laughter under control. "Who knows, maybe we've started a wonderful romance between two people who might not have found each other."

"Absolutely. Maybe they'll fall madly in love, and run off to a deserted island where they can frolic naked in the sun."

"And make love in the surf."

"Do you think he'd survive if she were on top?"

"Hmm, maybe not. Gee, Brad, do you think I should call Tom on his cell phone to see if he's all right?"

They were both silent for a moment, considering the question.

"Nah!"


"What's wrong Tom, you're staring?"

"Sorry," he blinked, looking at his companion. Never had he imagined that when she said she was going to change into something more comfortable that she'd come out wearing....

She gestured vaguely toward her choice of apparel. "Don't you like it?"

"Like it? I-I love it." A genuine smile broke out on his face as she seated herself alongside him on the sofa.

"What did you think I was going to wear?" Her smile matched his.

His jaw worked as he searched for the right words. "I...I..." he shrugged. "Not that." His eyes roamed over her body, starting at her bare feet, sweeping over the worn, torn blue jeans, across the washed out grey sweatshirt with the torn collar and faded, cracked lettering reading FSU football, over her face scrubbed clean of makeup, and straight into her brown eyes. "Marnie, it's perfect."

"You're not disappointed?"

The smile left his face, to be replaced by confusion. "Disappointed?"

"Well, what did you think I was going to wear?"

He could feel the flush creeping up his neck and over his face. "I-I thought, maybe something a little more... more...."

"See through?"

"Yeah."

"And the thought of that just turned your stomach, didn't it?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, that I can read you like the proverbial book. I know exactly how you're going to react to everything I say and do. You're so repressed, that I knew I could do and say anything to embarrass you. And I enjoyed the power it gave me."

"Why?"

"Because I was sick and tired of being hurt by men like you."

A puzzled frown wrinkled his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Be honest, Tom; you look at me and see what? A fat, plain woman that no man in his right mind would look at twice."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is! That's why I went along with this stupid blind date thing. Just once, I wanted to show up at a party with a handsome man at my side. When you were in high school and college, what kind of girls did you date?"

He shook his head, confused by her sudden attack.

"You don't have to tell me. I know," she sneered. "Cheerleaders, prom queens, the pretty girls that all the boys wanted, but you got because you were the captain of the football team. Isn't that right?"

He looked away.

"Isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, Tom. Did you, ever once, date a plain girl? A girl who was overweight? A girl who had pimples and frumpy clothes? Did you ever even know that girls like that existed? Or weren't they part of your world?"

"No!" he yelled back, turning to face her full on. "No, I never did. I never noticed, so what does that make me, a monster? Is that what this attack is all about? Do you want to get even with all those boys who ignored you by forcing me into this unholy bargain?"

"Yes." Her voice was low. "Yes, I want to get even. I want a handsome man in my bed, making love to me."

"Fine." He thrust himself off the couch. "A deal's a deal." He pulled savagely at the buttons on his shirt, shrugging the garment off and throwing it on the ground. "You want me, you've got me."

Leaning forward, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. Forcing her hand to his waistband, he spoke harshly. "Here, do you want to do it, or do you want me to strip for you?"

"What?"

"We had a deal, remember? You help me show up Cassy and Brad, and you get full use of my body for the night." His eyes were cold. "So, how do you want me?"

She loosened her grip and settled back into the couch. "Strip."

With sharp, deliberate movements he pulled off the rest of his clothes. "Now what?"


"How do you want your eggs Brad?"

"What?"

Cassy leaned closer over the arm of his chair, exposing her full cleavage to his sight. "Breakfast." Her hand wandered between his jacket and shirt, pushing the soft wool off his shoulder. "In the morning." She pulled at his tie.

He stood abruptly, crossing to the front door. "I have to go."

"Why?"

"It's late." His hand rested on the knob.

She pulled at her zipper and opened the snap at the back of her neck. The garment fell to the floor. "Not too late."

His eyes widened.

She felt his gaze sweep from her face downward to her dusky tipped breasts and farther down to the thin strip of fabric dipping between her legs. She smiled inwardly, savoring the feeling of power that came over her. She knew men. Knew what they wanted. How to manipulate them to get what she wanted. And right now she wanted that hard muscled body naked and pressed against hers. "Do you like what you see, Brad?"

"You...you're very beautiful, Cassy."

The smile reached her mouth. "Thank you." She hooked her thumbs into the side straps of her thong. "Do you want to see the rest."

His hand tightened on the knob, twisting it and pulling the door open. "I'd better go." He slipped through the door, slamming it behind him.

She stood frozen, fingers still hooked under the dainty elastic. "What the hell?"

*******

"Turn around, Tom, slowly."

He did as he was told. His back was to her when he sensed the movement in the room.

"Stop."

A warm hand rested on his shoulder, then trailed slowly down his back and over the muscular curve of his buttocks. He clenched his jaw, willing himself to stand still as the hand slid over the point of his hipbone and stroked his flat belly.

She stepped in front of him, looking at him with narrow, appraising eyes. Her hand moved again. Up to his shoulder and down across his chest, brushing against the dark buds of his nipples. "You're a beautiful man, Thomas." She moved back a step, her eyes sweeping over his body. "Are you ready to make love to me?"

"It's not love, Marnie." His voice was low. "It's just sex."

"Doesn't matter. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

They stood still, eyes locked on one another. Sighing heavily, she stepped away. Bending quickly, she scooped his clothing up from the floor. Holding it out to him, she looked away. "Get dressed, Tom."

He snatched the garments from her hand, quickly pulling on shorts and trousers. "We had a deal, Marnie."

"And you would have honored it, wouldn't you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He stopped buttoning his shirt to look at her. "What do you mean why?"

"Why bother? I can't keep you here against your will, we both know that. Why didn't you just laugh in my face and walk out the door?"

He hung his head. "Because I thought it was what you wanted. Because I used you." He looked up, meeting her large brown eyes. "Because you kept your part of the deal, even though it hurt you. I owe you for what I put you through at that party tonight. I saw...I saw the way they were looking at us--at you. I saw the way Cassy sneered at you. "I never realized what you were really like until tonight, Marnie. I meant what I said before, you're funny and you're smart. But I never knew how much you'd been hurt until just now. And I'm truly sorry for my part in it."

She wanted to be angry. Wanted to lash out and tell him what he could do with his apology, but she couldn't because she could read the truth in his eyes. "You're not what I thought you were, Tom. I thought you were like all the others. The ones who were willing to be friendly to the fat girl because she could help them get what they wanted, but wouldn't be caught dead with her in public at a social event.

"Hell, I'll admit that I went through with our little date because I wanted to get even with Cassy and Brad as much as you did. I wanted Cassy to know that I was going to have you in my bed tonight. I used you as much as you used me."

"We're just as bad as they are," he said softly, shame coloring his voice.

"Yeah, you're right." She looked up at him, her eyes dark with regret. "So what does that make us?"

"You and me?" He reached out, taking her cold hands between his. "Friends?"

"Friends?" She smiled for the first time since they'd arrived back at her house. "I like that. Friends. So what do you think, Thomas? Can a man and a woman really be friends?" The devilish glint was back in her eyes. "Why don't you get naked again and we'll see about this friends thing?"

He tightened his grip on her hands. "I have a better idea."

"And what's that?"

"You and me, having lunch together tomorrow at work. We'll let the whole world see that this isn't just a one night stand."

"Will you be naked?"

"Sure, if you will be, too."

They both laughed, a wall had come down and a new bond established.

"Oh, darn, I just remembered, I'm leaving on vacation tomorrow morning." She pulled him toward the front door. "Maybe when I come back. If I come back."

"Where are you going?" His hands were fumbling through his jacket pockets for the car keys.

She opened the door for him. "Jamaica. Who knows, maybe I'll find the man of my dreams and we'll run away together."

His voice was soft. "Maybe you will." He stood on the threshold, looking down at her. "Good night, Marnie."

"Good night, Tom."

He bent suddenly, brushing her lips with his. With a wink and a smile, he moved out into the night.

**********

Whistling brightly, Tom pushed his way through the palm tree doors. Expertly juggling a white bakery bag, styrofoam cup of coffee, and a handful of telephone messages. Crossing the room in three long strides, he slipped into his chair, swung his feet up on his desk and smiled at his partner. "Good morning, Cassandra," he said brightly.

She glared at him.

He held out the white bag. "Eclair?"

Grabbing the bag, she slammed it into the wastebasket beside her desk.

"Ooh," he chided. "We're a little grumpy this morning. What's the matter, things didn't work out between you and Mr. Stud Connors last night?"

"Not at all." A brittle smile settled on her face. She moved to her partner's desk and deliberately perched on its edge. "Brad and I had a wonderful evening. After the party we went back to my place."

"And you broke out the wine and started toasting." He stood up and moved closer to her. "Then you moved closer." He rubbed his shoulder against hers. "And closer." His lips brushed her ear.

She pushed him away and moved to the coffee pot. Pulling out a mug, she filled it with the steaming brew. "And how close did you and Marnie get, Thomas?"

A smile crossed his face at the memory of Marnie's figure standing in her doorway and watching as he drove away. "A gentleman never tells. Let's just say our relationship moved to a new level last night."

She snorted in disgust. "Since when did you become a gentleman?"

"I've always been a gentleman, Cassy. You just never noticed because you were too busy going after guys with washboard stomachs and perfect tans. So," he settled back at his desk. "You never did answer my question. How did things go with you and Brad?

"Fine."

"Fine. Well, I know what that means." He opened a folder and started reading.

She slapped the folder out of his hands. "Really?"

"Yes, really." He grabbed her wrist, pulling her down to his eye level. "It means that you tried to seduce Brad and failed," he whispered. The desk phone rang and he snatched it up. "Ryan.... Right, on my way." He stood and moved briskly to the door. "Gotta go. Hey, don't take it personally, Cass. You're just not Brad's type."

Dodging around him, she blocked the door. "Really? And who is?"

He planted a quick kiss on her cheek while pushing his way past her. "Me."

--finis--


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