Rich, Eligible and Gorgeous

Mavis Schuyler has always been used to getting her way. Rich, still beautiful and with a will of iron, Mavis focuses on what she wants and makes sure that no one stops her. Unfortunately, getting her own way in all areas of her life has become something of a challenge lately. Her oldest son Brad is dating a woman permanently locked in the 1960s. Her second son Tyler has become an advocate for the truth and has developed the annoying habit of never lying. Her niece Tiffany is engaged to a complete ruffian. The icing on the cake is that Mavis hasn’t been on a decent date in months. That, however, is about to change…

Mavis spotted Bernard Morton before he saw her. She was sitting in the lounge at the Schuyler Square Country Club, recuperating after a particularly brisk massage given by one of the more sadistic massage therapists employed by the club. Taking a long sip of her martini, Mavis studied Bernard. He really was a dead ringer for Warren Beatty, although even sexier, if that were possible. He was also as free as a bird since that silly Mindy Cooper had broken their engagement. True, he was under suspicion for murder but no one was perfect. Mavis knew that for a fact. Just look at her late husband and her sons and her former lover, Peter Van Husen. Everyone had at least a few flaws.

Bernard looked up and Mavis caught his eye. Smiling, he got to his feet and crossed the room in a few long, easy steps. Mavis watched him, salivating slightly as he approached her. Peter Van Husen was handsome but Bernard was handsome and rich, an unbeatable combination.

“Well, Mavis, how have you been?” Bernard asked when he reached her.

“Fabulous,” Mavis told him, tossing her hair back in the move Farrah Fawcett had made famous some thirty years earlier. “And you?” She lowered her voice and injected a tone of sympathy into it. “I’m so sorry you had to get dragged into that unpleasant business.”

Bernard sat down next to her, his knee automatically banging against her own. “Unpleasant business? Oh, you mean that jerk Fritz getting himself killed. I haven’t been dragged into that.”

“Oh? I’d heard that you were the number one suspect.”

“Well, those idiots on the police force have to blame somebody, don’t they? I’m not worried about it. I know my hands are clean.”

That was good news. If Bernard wasn’t worried about a long jail sentence, then why should Mavis?  Leaning forward, she placed a perfectly manicured hand on his knee and squeezed lightly. “I’m  happy to hear that. Are you free for dinner tonight?”

Bernard’s eyebrows rose slowly. “Unfortunately, I have a date but I’ll be free later. How about if I drop by your house around eleven for a nightcap?”

Mavis debated over whether or not she should be insulted. If Bernard really wanted to spend time with her, he could break his date and they could have dinner together. On the other hand, it wasn’t like she had anything else to do. It also wasn’t like she had a line of eligible gentlemen callers waiting to take her out. It was a sad fact of life that once a woman hit 50, even if she was rich, gorgeous and svelte like Mavis, eligible gentlemen callers dried up like puddles under the noon sun. “That sounds lovely,” Mavis agreed. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Bernard’s eyes met her own and held her gaze. “So am I, Mavis Schuyler. So am I.”