Every woman over the
age of 40 knows how special a date with a handsome, charming, wealthy man can
be. Given the right circumstances, it’s even possible to leave charming out of
that equation. That is what Mavis Schuyler has chosen to do regarding her late
night date with Bernard Morton. Bernard is most definitely handsome and he’s
almost as wealthy as Mavis but the charm factor seems to be on a permanent
hiatus from his overbearing personality…
When the front doorbell of Schuyler Manor rang at precisely
11:22, Mavis felt her heart flutter. It had to be Bernard, presenting himself
for the date she had so artfully arranged. Smoothing her freshly frosted hair
with one hand as she pulled her stomach in tightly, Mavis walked quickly to the
front door. She so wanted this date to go well. Bernard might not be the most
enjoyable man she’d ever been around but he was gorgeous and available and she
was getting a little tired of not having an appropriate escort to take her to
the club.
“Bernard! Hello!” Mavis said brightly as she opened the
door. Bernard was looking exceptionally Warren Beatty-esque that evening. He
was wearing a dark blue cashmere turtleneck, a tweed jacket and blue jeans, a
casual look that suited him almost too well. Mavis suddenly felt overdressed in
the silver lame hostess gown that she had chosen. “Please, come in,” she urged.
“What a night,” Bernard groused, stepping into the foyer. “I
need a drink. Where’s your bar?”
“Why don’t we go into the library?” Mavis suggested. “I can
pour you a drink in there.”
“Make it a double,” Bernard ordered. “Or a triple. Better
yet, give me a bottle of bourbon and let me pour.”
Leading Bernard into the walnut paneled library, Mavis
paused as she hoped that Bernard would notice how fetching she looked in the
dim, dancing light from the fireplace. “What on earth is wrong?” she questioned
in a throaty voice.
“I just had a lousy date with Sandy Cooper,” Bernard
informed her, flopping down on the leather couch. “All she did was yak about
getting married. Why do all you broads think that marriage is the answer to
everything? And where’s my drink?”
Silently, Mavis moved to the bar and found two bottles of
bourbon—one the good stuff her late husband used to drink and the second bottle
the cheap brand they gave to guests they didn’t like. After a moment’s
hesitation, she poured Bernard’s drink from the second bottle. After all, she
didn’t have to like the man to want to marry him. Handing it to him, she sat
down in the couch positioned across from his.
“Really, Bernard, do you honestly think that I want to hear
you talk about your date with another woman while you’re on a date with me?”
Bernard stared at her over the rim of his glass. “Is that
what this is? A date?”
“Why do you think I’m so dressed up?”
“I don’t know. You’re always dressed like you’re about to
attend a coronation. I thought you asked me over so we could discuss business.”
“We don’t really have a business together now that Fat Off
is dead in the water.”
“True, but as the two wealthiest residents of Schuyler
Square, it’s always fun to get together and compare stock portfolios.”
This man was as dense as a box of rocks. “Yes, that is fun
but that’s not why I invited you over tonight.” Mavis leaned forward
seductively, knowing that her hostess gown fell open just enough to give
Bernard a peek of her still taut body. “I’d like to get to know you better,
Bernard. As a man.”
“You want to get to know me as a man? You aren’t a man.”
Make that a box of rocks that had been buried for the past
ten thousand years. “No, I mean you
as a man. I want to know what makes you tick. I want to be more than simply an
acquaintance.”
Shaking his head, Bernard set his glass down on the side
table with a thump. “Oh, brother. Don’t pull that crap on me, Mavis. What you’re
saying is that you want to marry me too! All you broads are alike.”
Mavis wasn’t insulted. If anything, she was challenged by
Bernard’s rude comment. “No, we aren’t, Bernard. And if you’ll give me half a
chance, I’ll prove to you that I’m nothing like any other ‘broad’ you’ve ever
dated.”
Bernard’s gorgeous hazel eyes met her own. “You’re on, babe,”
he replied. “Prove it.”
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