The F-Word

That wins me a tiny smile.

“Nobody else thinks so,” she says. “Only me.”

“Baloney. I’m betting half the people who know her hate her. She probably kicks puppies.”

Okay. That gets me a watery laugh, but the laugh fades and becomes a sigh.

“The thing is, she’ll know.”

“Know what?”

“That I won’t be, you know, I won’t be doing what I told my mother.”

“Ah. Going away for a weekend of hot sex with some lucky guy.”

She blushes. “Yes.”

“How will she know?”

Bailey sighs again. “She just will. They all will. I mean, I’m not…That lie I told my mother. I’m not—I’m not a woman a man would take away for—for—you know, for what you said.”

“A weekend of hot sex,” I say, and her blush deepens. “Why not?”

“Why not?” She pulls back and stares at me. “I’m the girl who got straight A’s. Violet’s the girl who got the boys.”

“That was a long time ago. Things change.”

Another sigh. “Violet will see right through that story about the weekend and—you know—and—”

“A guy who’ll want you for hot sex,” I say solemnly.

“Yes. There’s no way to fool her.”

But maybe there is.

A plan is forming in my mind. It’s crazy. Anybody would think so. On the other hand…

“Look,” I hear myself say, “I have an idea.”

“About what?”

“About your cousin’s wedding.”

“Mr. O’Malley. Thank you for listening to me. But really, I’ll get through this. I’ll stay home. Or maybe I’ll go. I mean, it’s just a weekend. I can survive…What?”

“Here’s my idea,” I say. “Why don’t I go with you?”

5

Bailey looks at me as if I’ve gone nuts. I don’t think so. I mean, what have I got to lose?

“Huh?”

“Your mom’s never met me. She would have, if I’d gone to your dad’s funeral, but I was in Chicago, remember?”

“Mr. O’Malley. I don’t know what you think that would accomplish. I mean, it’s nice of you to, I don’t know, to offer to be there to give me courage, but—”

“This isn’t about courage, Bailey. It’s about you having a gorgeous, successful, fantastic guy to take you to that wedding.”