My Wonderful Obsession 33 free porn video

My Wonderful Obsession Part 33: An Unexpected Visitor Erica picked me up in her hot red Mercedes on the only evening in the entire month of March when I didn't have dance classes, voice lessons, Kate rehearsals, or work in my busy schedule. Okay, I did have a pile of homework, but I'd figured this get-together was way more important. She'd answered my email plea with a "Sure, honey! Where and when?" I replied with my limited availability and let her pick the place. This time I made sure to wear a real girl's outfit - a soft grayish- pink sweater dress with cowl neck, black tights, and of course my gel inserts 'cause the dress, and therefore I, looked a lot better like that. No, I wasn't trying to compete with Erica - maybe just emulate her style a bit. I'm glad I did 'cause, as expected, she looked amazing in a matching beige skirt-and-jacket set and pale blue blouse. She also wore a pair of brown calf-height leather boots with heels, which made me all the more determined to buy boots of my own. Her hair color still had reddish highlights from Valentine's Day, and she wore it long. As for me, I took advantage of my shoulder-length locks by fastening them up at the back with a big showy hot-pink hair clip. After we complimented each other on our looks, my new friend drove us to another one of her favorite little eateries - a Greek bistro about twenty minutes from my house. We spent that time catching each other up on what was going on in our lives. When we walked in the door, a short- ish, jovial man with dark curly hair greeted Erica like family and showed us to a table for two along a wall decorated with pictures of classic Greek Islands white and blue architecture and turquoise seas. Quite a contrast to the grey, cold, blustery scene outside the restaurant! "Ever been to Greece, Sandra?" Erica questioned me, probably because I kept glancing at the enticing images instead of reading my menu. "No, never. I'd love to go sometime, though. It looks so amazing - and WARM." "Hot would be the better word? I absolutely love it there - it's so romantic." "Do you go there a lot?" "Not enough - just four times now. We always go to the islands - usually Mykonos? But Santorini's nice too. They have the best sunsets in the whole world." As incredible as all that sounded, I figured I'd better change the subject before I got too depressed over my prospects of ever being able to go to a place like that, let alone have the right man to make the trip with. "So what do you recommend? Like, I've never had Greek food before." "You haven't? Well, you can't go wrong with a Greek salad - they have the best one here. If you're into being a carnivore, try the lamb. The roast potatoes are to die for! But my waistline won't allow that so I usually stick to salads - they're pretty filling." "I'd like to try a Greek salad ... maybe that and an appetizer. This one looks interesting - how do you say it? Span-a ..." "Spanakopita?" she giggled. "I love it too, except for the calories. Phyllo pastry, feta cheese and spinach. If you like spinach you HAVE to try it." "I DO so I will!" The same man who took us to our table also took our orders. Erica introduced us first, which prompted a big smile and a bow towards me, then she ordered for both of us and bantered away with him for another minute or so, even using some Greek phrases. The man was positively beaming when he left. "What did you say his name was?" "Pronounced 'Yannis', but spelled G-i-a-n-n-i-s." "Got it." Then I remarked about how she always treated servers so well. "Oh honey," she replied, "everyone deserves love and respect, no matter what kind of job they're doing? But Giannis happens to be the owner," she added with a twinkle in her eye. "Oh ... um, he seems to like you a lot," I commented. "What can I say, I'm a regular. And he's Greek? The only thing Greek men like more than a beautiful woman ... is a pair of them! I figured we'd make his day if we came here." "And here I thought we came here just to talk," I giggled. "Always trying to impress the men, aren't you, Erica?" "I think you impressed him more than me ... you could almost pass for one of the family, with that dark hair, and your skin tone ..." "Whatever," I giggled again. "I'm getting used to passing for things I'm not." Her red lips parted in a wide smile at that comment. "So you should, honey. Take it from me - it's the most fun you can have without breaking the law and going to jail." If what Erica meant by 'fun' was impersonating a female, I thought that WAS illegal in some places - thankfully not here in the good ol' U.S. of A. But that did make me remember one thing I wanted to say to her. "Erica, you always dress so chic, so cool - you're, like ... my role model." "Oh Sandra, you shouldn't try to copy anyone? - me included. You should dress to suit your own personality ... you know what I mean, don't you?" I nodded, more to be agreeable than in agreement. "I think so ..." She went on by way of explanation, "I take my clothes very seriously? In my position, I HAVE to. But Sandra, you're not in my shoes - at least not at this point in your life? And honey, you're such a softie, and you're very feminine? I think for you, pretty's a lot better than cool ... OR chic." "Hmm," I nodded, this time in total agreement. I DID like my pretty clothes, and I loved how pretty I thought they made ME look. My favorite items were white or pink, preferably with classic feminine details like lace trim or floral patterns or eyelet. Like my new underthings, for instance - not very edgy at all, come to think of it. "Now I know what you mean. I just bought a bunch of new bras and panties, and they're all really pretty. They make me FEEL pretty." Giannis appeared from behind me as I finished saying those words, and he set a plate with the spanakopita onto our table. "Enjoy," he said, giving me another big smile. But I couldn't smile back, because I was busy turning beet red. "D'you think he heard what I just said?" I whispered to Erica. "Like, I could just die ..." But she just laughed. "So what if he did? Like I said, we made his day! What's the harm anyway - to him you're a beautiful girl and girls wear bras and panties, don't they?" I shook my head in exasperation. "Next time I'll sit where YOU'RE sitting and YOU can embarrass yourself." Erica shrugged, "I don't find it embarrassing to talk like that in front of men. Well, maybe SOME men? But the ones I deal with love hearing a woman talk openly about female stuff, like bras and boobs and periods ... and especially sex. And they're always good for a comeback, you know?" "A comeback?" "Uh-huh ... you say something you think sounds innocent enough, but it could have a double meaning? Like, once I said, 'I couldn't get Ted up this morning,' and they're like, 'I wouldn't touch that one with a ten- foot pole!'" Erica mimicked a man's low voice for that quote, then she giggled loudly in her regular effeminate voice. "And I'd play along and go 'Oh, maybe all I need is some new lingerie,' and that'd REALLY get them going. Sandra, you can have SUCH FUN with men." That may have been true for my friend, but I didn't think I'd ever have THAT much self-confidence around men. Anyway, I couldn't help but notice how Erica used the word 'them' when referring to members of her own sex. Obviously it'd been so long since she'd lived as male that she no longer considered herself a member of that club. I didn't think I was quite where she was yet. But I could totally imagine Erica throwing a house party and attracting a bunch of men, especially the ones with a few drinks in them, like moths to a flame. As informative and entertaining as all that was, it was high time to get down to business. First things first, though - try the appetizer! Erica was right as usual and I loved it from the first bite. A new Sandra favorite! But I didn't want to talk much while I was savoring the spanakopita, so to fill in I asked what she thought about Betty. "Betty? Oh, she's nice enough ..." "I mean, like ... her story." "What about her story?" I swallowed first, then answered, "I mean, it's kind of hard to believe, parts of it ..." "Oh, I don't know, Sandra. If you mean it sounded like a fairy tale, you could be right? But maybe you and I both, when we're older, will look back and remember life being like a fairy tale." Then she winked and added, "I feel like I'm there already!" That made me giggle and I almost choked on my food. "I get it - I think ... you mean like, she might be remembering things that never really happened?" "She might be embellishing a bit, yes ... but it's her life and she gets to remember it however she pleases?" "Yeah, I guess that makes sense ... I'd want to think that part of my life was really special, when I was older and couldn't pass very well anymore." "Sandra, try not to be judgmental of others, okay honey? Like I said, it's Betty's life and only she can pass judgment on it." 'Maybe God too,' I thought. But I couldn't imagine why God would judge someone like Betty harshly. "Okay, I'll try to remember that from now on," I said sincerely. "Uh, Erica ... I do have something I really need your help with." She looked at me with a caring expression, and said, "Does it have to do with your love life, honey?" I didn't realize she was so perceptive, in addition to all her other qualities. "Uh, yeah ..." "Tell me all about it." First I glanced around to make sure Giannis wasn't right behind me again. "Uh ... well, I was doing some thinking about what you said last time - you know, about being a trophy wife and stuff? Erica, I've decided I really wanna have what you've got ... I know, you said it's like, not totally perfect and everything ... but I don't really care?" "Sorry, Ted's already spoken for," she said with a smile and a wink. Then she shook her head and added, "That wasn't called for, was it? I apologize. So ... tell me why you want my life." "Because you have someone who really loves you, just the way you are, and he takes care of you. And you get to have your own life, and dress really nice and live in a nice big house, and you give him the kind of life he really wants ..." I could have added 'He buys you nice cars too,' but figured that might be going a bit far. Erica's face didn't register one way or the other, so I continued with my ramble: "But the trouble is, I'm not sure I could live with a ... a totally gay guy - no offense - I guess I would if that's the only way. The thing is, I'm really attracted to normal guys - I mean straight guys? - except they wouldn't want someone like me, would they? So I don't know what to do ..." My friend's face finally broke into a smile. "Take a breath of air, honey ... okay, so you're worried about your future, right? I can understand that - but you're still so young ... good lord, I must sound like your mother? Sandra - you don't have to listen to anything I'm telling you ..." "It's okay," I reassured her, "I really want your advice. Like, you've BEEN there ..." "Sort of. I never had any straight guys hit on me, like your ... what's his name?" "Rob." "Yes, Rob. Well, I should clarify - they never hit on me when I was still in my teens. Maybe a few years LATER ..." "When you were in a skirt?" "Uh-huh ... they did then! But only in fun - they knew I was attached. Well, there WAS that nice salesman at the Mercedes dealership. My God - he looked just like Richard Gere ..." "From 'Pretty Woman,' right? I know him - he's very hunky ..." "You've seen that movie? It's my all-time favorite," she gushed. 'That figures,' I thought. "No wonder you liked him - he's kind of the ultimate catch, isn't he? Rich, handsome, going places ... and he treats her like a princess!" "You're so right - that IS why I liked him. He treated ME like one too - I mean, the salesman did, not Richard Gere. Good thing I wasn't really a chick or who knows ..." "You would've slept with him?" I blurted without thinking. Erica shook her head and winked, "I wouldn't have been sleeping, honey!" That made me laugh. "I think it's so funny," I remarked, "that you and I both fell for guys who look like movie stars." "It isn't just us, Sandra. I'm told that women do that all the time." "Really? Who tells you that?" "Not their husbands or boyfriends! They'd be the LAST ones to know," she laughed. I laughed too. "That's so cool," I mused. "I guess that's one way we're just like real women." "There's lots of ways we're just like real women. Anyway, I prefer not to remind myself of the differences? When I'm out in public with Ted, or by myself, I'm not a gay man in makeup and a dress - I'm a woman. It's the only way to keep it real." "I think I know what you mean - it's like that for me too ..." "That's why Rob had the hots for you - you know how to keep it real? You're only seventeen, honey, but you already have what it takes to be a real woman, no matter what's between your legs." "I still want to get rid of that," I moaned, rolling my eyes. "If you do, fine, but if you don't, that's fine too. But getting back to your concerns, you might want to sort out what's the most important thing in your life? If it's security, a man like Ted is your best bet. I think you'd be very happy, but you might never get around to having your operation? If that's really important to you, you might be looking for a straight man who doesn't want kids, or doesn't mind adopting." "But what about me being born male? Wouldn't that be a huge turn-off for him?" Erica shook her head. "Doubt it," she stated. "Men can be pretty shallow - even the good ones? If you're pretty and like wearing tight skirts, and have a decent set of knockers, a sexy ass and a warm pussy for him to put it in, he'll happily forgive ALL your sins." I nearly fell off my chair - talk about being blunt! "Where did you ever hear that?" I asked, wondering if I'd just imagined she said that. "From all the women I know," she replied nonchalantly. "Apparently it's common knowledge. Mind you, I wouldn't have personal experience ..." "Hmm ... I suppose not," I said, thinking of how Erica was missing one of those essential female attributes. Just then her eyes shifted upwards, and there was Giannis with our Greek salads. Wow - they looked so fresh and scrumptious! "But I wouldn't want to turn you off that option, or any other option," Erica went on after we both sampled our food. "Like I said before, everything of value has its price? You just have to figure out if the price is worth it." "I think I understand ..." "If you don't now, you will. But Sandra, can I tell you something from the heart? I think you're an incredibly sweet, caring girl - like, I've never met anyone else like you, male OR female. And you're SO pretty - almost TOO pretty? You take my breath away. You won't have any trouble at all attracting men, trust me. Um, so that's the good stuff ... now for the not-so-good. How do I put this ... I think you must be right-brained - like, you let your emotions rule your life?" "Right-brained?" I interrupted. "You've never heard that? It's about which side of your brain you use more - like for instance, left-brained people are analytical, logical, that kind of thing? And right-brained means you're more expressive, creative ... those are the good things, but the downside is you tend to be more emotional, even irrational sometimes?" "That does sound a lot like me," I agreed. "But I like my expressive side, and my creative side? I think it helps a lot when I'm acting and singing ..." "Oh yes, you did tell me about that. See, that's what I mean when I say things have their price? The price is how badly things can affect you - like how depressed you felt after you broke up with Mark." "It's even worse than that," I mused. "It's probably what caused me to break up with him in the first place." And I'd thought it was all the hormones' fault! Erica was making huge sense with this line of reasoning. And to think - when I first met her I thought she was just an airhead blonde! "Erica, do you think you're left-brained? You're so good at analyzing things ..." She smiled and replied, "I think I am - but I try not to let on ..." I was about to tell her I noticed, but caught myself before sticking my foot in it. Instead I said, "Well it's all so interesting. I think I DO use my heart and not my head when I'm deciding some things, like spending money on myself. But I don't know about really big decisions - I think I use my head ..." "Did you use your head when you decided to sneak those birth control pills?" "Uh ... no, I guess not. I just couldn't stand the thought of having zits." "That's really an emotional decision, but you might have thought it was logical. How about your first dates with Mark? Didn't you say you went all out to be the perfect girl?" "Uh-huh - but to me that made sense ... I mean, why would he want to go out with a guy?" "That's not what I'm getting at. You were attracted to him, weren't you? And your heart told you the way to attract HIM was to look as pretty as you possibly could. If your brain was making the decisions, would you ever have started dating him?" "Probably not ... and if I did, I sure wouldn't have let the relationship go as far as it did - like, meeting his family and everything." "And making wedding plans?" "Uh ... yeah, I guess that was kind of right-brained of me ..." "Just a little. And maybe just one more example - which side of your brain was in control when you decided it was all over for good for you and Mark?" "That's easy - the left side. I mean, he's going out with his ex again." "No, honey, it's your right side again. If you just think it through logically, she's not right for him, is she? You're right for him and he's right for YOU. That's just a rebound relationship, don't you think? They never last." When Erica said Mark and I were 'right' for each other, it immediately reminded me that Sharon Stevens had told us the exact same thing. "So giving up on Mark is just an emotional reaction," I mused out loud. "I'd say so. It's certainly not logical." "Well there's still a big problem with Mark," I said. "He doesn't want me to have the operation." "And that's something you have to decide if you can live with. There's always a trade-off, Sandra - always a price to pay." "Hmm ... so here's another question: there's this guy at school - he's in the play - he's actually playing the male lead - and I was thinking if I went out with him ... like, it would be just platonic, 'cause I'm not attracted to him, really ... and maybe Mark would get a bit jealous? Do you think I'm crazy to do that?" She laughed and replied, "Not crazy ... maybe a little devious. It's okay as long as he's on the same page as you. What's his name?" "Michael." "Is Michael interested in you?" "I don't think he has it in him to be interested in anyone," I laughed. "But I think he likes me - as a friend, I mean? - and I'm pretty sure he'd go out with me to a movie, stuff like that? See, he knows about me, so I wouldn't expect him to get interested, like in me as a girlfriend." Then I remembered something. "But I DO have to kiss him!" "Oh, you DO? That should give him a thrill. Ah - I assume you mean in the play?" "Yeah - I hope he's up for it. Hundreds of people will be watching!" "Including ME! Can you get me a couple of tickets? I'd love to see you perform." "I'd love it if you could come - as soon as they tell me which shows I'm doing." 'How cool,' I thought - 'Erica's coming to my show, and she's bringing her nice hubby!' "So I'm not sure I answered your question. You wanted to know if I thought it was okay to date Michael and try to make Mark jealous? The answer's yes and no - yes you should date him if he's agreeable and no you shouldn't do it to make Mark jealous. That can backfire? Why don't you just relax and play the waiting game? I know that doesn't jive with what I told you before - you know, going after what you want in life? But you and Mark are perfect for each other and he's bound to get tired of his ex. He did once before, didn't he?" "Yeah, maybe you're right. I HOPE you're right ..." "They're both what, eighteen or nineteen? And you know he isn't about to propose. So they're not in much danger of getting married, are they?" That Erica could be SO logical. But what she said reminded me of something - Mark had turned nineteen that very day, and I made a mental note to send him an email greeting when I got home. "No, I guess they're not. Uh ... I've been overreacting, haven't I?" "A bit - it's your right brain, honey." How about that, I thought - for the second time, Erica had made me feel a whole lot better about myself and my love life. What a great mentor she was turning out to be! By then we'd both finished our salads, and Giannis returned to gather up the empty bowls. "You enjoy the salad, ladies?" he asked with his now-familiar smile. "I loved it! It was amazing!" I gushed. "I think it's my new favorite. And the spanakopita too - I can hardly wait to try it again!" I looked at Erica and she was beaming. "But only here at Pegasus Restaurant," Giannis pointed out, wagging his index finger for emphasis. "Always the best here. You'll come back, yes?" "Yes, and I'll bring my friends too!" "That's good!" he laughed. "They're all pretty like you, no?" "No, Giannis - Sandra's definitely the prettiest." Erica interjected. "That's okay," he laughed again, gesturing with his hands, "you bring them anyway. Giannis will treat them very good, pretty or not so pretty." Now I was laughing too. What a fun guy, and I loved how he correctly answered his own questions with a 'yes' or 'no'. "You have room for dessert, yes?" he continued. Erica shrugged and said "Sorry, I'll have to pass. But Sandra should try your baklava, don't you think?" "Ah, yes - mine is the best. I bring Sandra a nice big piece of my baklava!" "I'll just have some mint tea," Erica said, and Giannis nodded, or maybe it was a bow. "Erica, he's so fun!" I said after Giannis had left. "He is, isn't he? Now you know why I like coming here." "It's true, isn't it? I mean, like, the people and the service are so important? The food has to be good too, but I think the people are what makes a place memorable. I learned that at work, watching how one of the girls there treats her customers." "I haven't been to your restaurant before," she said. "I must come sometime." "I hope you do, and please bring Ted ... but I'll warn you, it's a bit of a party place. Kind of loud - I wouldn't go there expecting a romantic kind of atmosphere. But the food's not bad." "And the people and the service are superb, right?" "Only if you get me or Chelsea," I laughed. Just then my dessert arrived, and I couldn't wait to dig in. "This is insanely good," I said after the first forkful. "I think I'm sold on eating Greek." "I'm glad you like it," Erica smiled. "Now, are we all squared away on what we need to do about love?" "I think so," I said tentatively, "but I'm still a bit confused. When we went out last time, you told me I should trust my gut. Isn't that just like letting my emotions run my life?" "Yes, I did say that but it's really about having the courage of your convictions? Down deep, you're a very decent person and you know what's right and what's wrong. Just try applying that test whenever you feel your right brain's trying to have its way. I'm sure you already do that where others are involved but maybe not so much for yourself? Does that make any sense, honey?" "Yeah, I think so. I'll have to think about it some more, I guess. Uh ... Erica, did you ever consider going into counseling?" That made her laugh. "No, I haven't - and I don't think I'd last long at it. A good counselor has to be a good listener? That's not me! I like giving advice too much." "But you give really good advice ..." "It's nice of you to say that, but most people don't want advice, because they don't want to change. They just want someone to unload on. I don't think I'd be able to keep my big mouth shut. But I HAVE been thinking of becoming a clothing counselor, if I ever need the income. That's the ONE kind of advice that nobody minds getting - they even pay for it? You get to go shopping with them at all the best stores! I hear you can make a pretty good living ..." "Oh, that sounds perfect!" I interjected. "I'd LOVE to do that. You'd do really well, you're so good with fashion? And I bet a lot of women need that kind of help." "Women AND men," she corrected me. "Remember, I'm a gay man? We have a knack for fashion - either sex!" "I have heard that. But it's so hard to believe you're a man - you always look so gorgeous." She smiled and thanked me for the compliment, then said that 'girls' like us have to look better than the average genetic girl to be totally believable. "It's a lot of effort, Sandra." I nodded, "Yeah, it is." "But don't you think it's worth it?" "Oh, sure - I love it! I'd hate my life if I ever had to stop." "You and a million other boys who like to dress up. Once it's in your blood, it's there for good I'm afraid." "Like Betty." "Back to Betty! You're so right - she can't stop dressing even if she wanted to. And now that her wife's gone, it's like she's been given a new lease on life?" "Yeah - I can see that. It's too bad she can't pass like she used to though." "I feel the same way. That's what I worry about? I'm going to have to make some big decisions myself pretty soon." "So ... is that why you're seeing Dr. Westerman?" "It is." Erica didn't seem to want to elaborate, so I swung the conversation back to clothing. "Well, I love clothes - they're my biggest weakness. Maybe I could hire you to help ME ..." "I don't think you need MY help, Sandra. You have a great sense of style - and anything looks good on you." "Well, some colors don't. I'm a winter, so ..." "Ah, 'Color Me Beautiful,' right? It's my bible. But seriously, you DO have the 'look.' You have such a pretty face ... your skin is flawless - and I'd kill for the kind of body you've got ... forget ME, ANY woman would kill to have your looks," she stated. "That's awfully nice of you, but I sure don't feel that way about myself." Actually, I was extremely pleased to hear that from Erica, whom I suspected was a good judge of appearance. It was nice to know my efforts were getting noticed and it reminded me that my acne was a thing of the past. "You wear your modesty well too," she said, "but you can't fool me - you know you're beautiful. Don't think I haven't noticed how all the heads turn when you enter a room." "They're probably looking at YOU." "Well, they would if YOU weren't with me!" she shot back with a glare, and for an instant it felt like she was jealous of me. But then she erupted in giggles and I joined in. A second later Giannis was back at our table asking if we'd like anything else. Erica glanced at her watch, then me. "I guess I should be getting back home," I said before she had the chance. "I've got an assignment due tomorrow. But thank you SO much for everything, AGAIN, Erica. You're a really special friend." "Don't you always say the nicest things!" she responded. "Well, I'm honored that you consider me a friend." I tried to pay the check but my friend wouldn't hear of it. Giannis wasn't much help, 'cause he wouldn't take my money either, only Erica's credit card! On the drive home we chatted about clothes (what else!) and I told her about my two recent shopping trips. She said she'd love to go to a lingerie shop like Marianne's, but with her boyish body and her breast implants she thought they might figure her out. I told her she shouldn't worry about it, because Marianne was a real professional and I was certain she'd keep Erica's real sex a secret, but I don't think I convinced her. "Maybe I should up my hormone dose," she said. "I just need some curves, that's all ..." From the way she said that, I wondered whether she'd already made that decision. Well, if she had, I'm sure she would've used her left brain and weighed all the factors! She also told me she'd been asked to be a bridesmaid once, for the wedding of Ted's sister, but she'd declined. She said she still regretted that decision, because it might have been her only chance to ever be in a wedding party. "Well, maybe they'll change the law and you'll be able to get married for real," I said, trying to sound optimistic. "Then you can skip the ugly bridesmaid dresses and go for the wedding gown!" "I wish!" she laughed. When we pulled into my driveway Erica got out of the car and came around to the passenger side to say goodbye, and to my surprise she gave me a big hug. "I love you, Sandra," she said. "I love you too Erica." We waved to each other as she drove away and I made my way into the house, where I found my brother standing by the living room window. "So who's the hot chick with the hot car?" he asked. "Just my new friend," I responded playfully. "Wish I had a new friend," he said with mock sadness. I went straight over and put my index finger on his lips. "No you don't, Philip - you've already got the hottest chick in town. And you're marrying her, remember?" "Yeah, but she doesn't have a red Mercedes!" "She doesn't need one, either - she has something a lot better - and she has YOU." I left him wondering what in the world I was talking about, and headed upstairs to get to work. ***** I guess you could say the direction of my life changed dramatically in April that year. And no, I'm not laying a silly pun on you (dramatic, as in the play - get it?). Let's just say the events that spring in 1999 ensured I'd never be quite the same person ever again. You'll see what I mean as I relate the rest of my story. Anyhow, there I was at work on a busy Friday evening, in the middle of looking after a table of rowdy teens, when one of my co-workers tapped me on the shoulder. "There's a hunky guy up front wanting to see you," she said. "He looks a lot like Ben Affleck!" "Tell him he'll have to wait ..." I began to say. Then, "Hang on - did you say Ben Affleck?" "Yeah - and if it were ME, I wouldn't keep Ben Affleck waiting!" My heart must have skipped a hundred beats. In a daze I hurried to the front and, sure enough, there stood none other than Rob Hewitt, gazing at me with a huge smile on his handsome face. And me? I was in a state of pure shock and I'm sure I looked it. "Rob!" I gasped when I finally found my voice. "What in the world are you doing HERE?" "Paying you a social visit - what does it look like?" he laughed. His blue eyes were sparkling as he took in the way I was dressed. "By the way, you look as gorgeous as ever!" "It's just my uniform," I said before I could think of any other way to reply. "I wasn't talking about your clothes. But while we're on that subject, anything looks good on you," he stated with conviction. "Uh, thank you ... so, uh ... how did you know I was here?" I didn't even recall telling him which part of the country I was from, let alone where I worked. "I'll tell you all about it when I find us someplace a little more private," he replied, glancing at the crowded waiting area. "When do you get off work?" "At eleven?" I answered, making my response sound like a question. Lately I seemed to be emulating Erica's manner of speech a lot. Rob didn't wait for me to add anything. "I'll meet you here at eleven then. Do you have your own transportation, or can I offer a beautiful girl a ride home later?" "Uh, no, I don't have a car ..." "Perfect. I'll go find us a nice place where we can get re-acquainted." Remember what I said I liked about Rob? His self-confidence. The guy never gave me the chance to object or offer alternatives - he just took control of the situation. But now I was in a quandary. If I wasn't mistaken, I'd just been talked into going on my first-ever date with that man. And for sure, I thought, this time he'd want to know everything there was to know about me. At least I could say with a straight face that I didn't have a boyfriend, unlike the last time I saw him, when I conveniently forgot to mention it! But that in itself was scary - what else did I have to discourage Rob from pursuing me? And was he hoping to have sex with me? Maybe, I imagined, Rob considered me 'unfinished business,' and that's why he was here in Cincinnati. Would I have to put up a fight to keep him from bedding me? And finding out I wasn't exactly the hot chick he thought I was? The prospect was more than a little terrifying! But pretty exciting too - my first glimpse of Rob had rekindled the huge attraction I felt for him back in Vermont. These thoughts, and a whole lot more like them, occupied my brain for the rest of my shift. So I probably wasn't the most attentive waitress that night! But nothing unfortunate came of it, and I still made decent tips, so after cashing out I scurried into the ladies' room and spent as much time as I dared fixing my hair and makeup. I sure didn't want to keep Rob waiting, what with all the other girls ready to pounce! After a quick perfume spritz I pulled on my coat and made my way back to the front where I found three of my co-workers chatting and laughing with Rob. "Sandy, why don't you go fix your hair and makeup while we get to know your new man," said Angie in her high musical voice, her eyes fixed on Rob. "Uh, he's not exactly my new man," I corrected her, hoping Rob wouldn't take that the wrong way. "And I already did my hair and face, thanks ..." How embarrassing! "Oh, sorry, I didn't notice," she giggled. Yeah, right, I thought. "So he's still available?" chirped the other girl, who was standing WAY too close to Rob for my liking. "If you don't want him I'll be happy to take him off your hands." At that I strode over to Rob and grabbed his arm. "It's okay, Sheila, I'm sure I'll be able to look after this guy. I promise you'll be the first to know when I'm finished with him." "Hey wait just a minute, Sandra," Rob objected with a pouty expression. "We haven't even got reacquainted yet, and you're already talking about being finished?" "Guess you'll just have to be extra-nice to her, won't you?" giggled Sheila. "Just so you know, Rob, she always demands the full princess treatment - nothing less! Isn't that right, Sandra dear?" "You never told me you were high maintenance, dahling," Rob smiled at me, obviously playing along. I'd forgotten how much I loved his New England accent. "Oh, but I AM, Rob - I just didn't know if you were up to the challenge," I replied, fluttering my eyelashes at him. I couldn't believe it - against my better judgment, there I was being the total flirt again! The right side of my brain was in complete control! But, oh my God, it felt SO right - especially being with that man and wearing those sexy clothes. I think Sheila was nearly dying, but she managed to contain herself. "I'd love to have the chance to prove you wrong ..." he went on. "Hmm ... we'll just see how we get along, big guy." "I wouldn't have it any other way," he replied confidently, and there was no doubt in my mind that he fully expected me to get along with him perfectly. "So how long are you in town?" I asked as he held the door for me. "As long as it takes to get you to go out to dinner with me," he replied with a wink and a smile. "So I could keep you here till next year if I keep saying no?" Two can play this game, I thought. "A lot longer than that," he laughed. "I'm a patient guy, especially when something's worth waiting for!" 'Oh my God,' I thought, 'this guy sure knows how to make a girl feel like a million bucks - and it sounds like he isn't about to take no for an answer.' My mind was racing as I considered if it was wise to go out with him on a 'proper' date, or whether I should just tell him straight out that I wasn't interested in starting another relationship, at least at that 'awkward' time of my life. He led me out to his car, I mean his SUV (it was a silver Toyota, a Highlander I think), and opened the door for me. "Okay, you passed the first big test," I kidded. Rob put his hands together and looked skyward. "Thank you lord," he said, and I just had to laugh out loud. As we drove out of the parking lot I reminded him that he owed me an explanation. "So how DID you track me down? What did you do - like, hire a detective?" "Well, I would've had to if you hadn't left your address and phone number behind." "I did?" Then I remembered - when Mr. McCowan was signing me up for the ski lessons, I had to fill out a release form. "So you went snooping in the customer files, did you? You brat!" He looked over at me with a pained expression. "I don't have to snoop - I was the assistant director of the ski school. I'm allowed to see the applications." I hoped I hadn't made him feel bad, so I said, "Okay, maybe you're forgiven. Now tell me how you found out where I work." "Well, I needed a little help with that ... when I called your house your brother answered. I just told him who I was and he told me where I could find you." "He DID?" I was a little shocked that Phil would give that information to a complete stranger. "Well okay, there's a little more to it ... it took me a while to convince him that all I wanted to do was surprise you, and I wasn't trying to kidnap you - although the thought DID cross my mind - and he made me go over to your house first so he could check me out. You've got a very protective brother there, Sandra." "That's what big brothers are for, Rob - to keep strange men from kidnapping their little sisters." And boy, did I feel better about Phil after hearing Rob's explanation. But there was another missing piece of the puzzle, and he obliged by filling me in on why he happened to be in Cincinnati. "The mountain closed for the season last weekend," he explained, "and I needed a few days to pack everything up before hitting the road. Turns out there's an opening for a ski school director in Colorado next season, so I'm driving out there to check the place out and do my interview. Then I'm heading over to the west coast for some downtime. I have family in the bay area I'll be staying with." "So ... you decided to make a little detour?" "You could say that," he smiled. "I was sorry we didn't get to see each other again before you left." "I was too ..." Although I suppose at the time I was more relieved than sorry. Rob drove us to a small Italian restaurant about a mile from where I worked, and we were led to a table by the hostess. Rob helped me with my coat and I immediately felt very conspicuous in my skimpy waitress outfit, so I quickly took my seat. "I recognize you," said the hostess. "You work at Milestones, right?" "Yes I do - I'm one of the servers there." "I know - I was there a couple weeks ago with some friends and you looked after our table - we all thought you were terrific." Rob didn't miss a beat. "She's always terrific!" "Thanks," I replied as graciously as I could. "I think I remember you too - weren't you celebrating an engagement? Like, your friend?" "Uh-huh - you have a very good memory! My best friend's getting married this fall. It was me that suggested we all go to Milestones, and everybody had such a great time, so you made me look pretty smart!" "Well, it was really my pleasure - and it's my job! Anyhow, you have to go all out for engagement parties, don't you?" "Don't mind Sandra, she's always this modest," joked Rob. But I could tell he was soaking up the praise on my behalf, every bit as much as I was. The girl laughed at his humor as she handed us a pair of menus and a wine list. "Your server will be here in a minute," she said. "I'm going to tell her she better be on best behavior - she's serving a pro!" Now it was my turn to laugh. At least till I noticed that everyone in the place was staring at me. That's the trouble with small quiet restaurants - everyone sees and hears everything that goes on! After that interesting experience, Rob and I settled in for some serious getting re-acquainted conversation, punctuated a few dozen times by me laughing and giggling at his jokes - oh, and the ordering and delivery of our food and drink. I don't remember what I ate, or if I had a glass of wine or a soda with it, or even if the service was up to par or not. But I vividly remember the ambiance - I mean, the warm glow you get from spending quality face time with someone you're really attracted to. His face, with those sparkling blue eyes, was achingly handsome. Mesmerizing, even. Yes, Mark was really good-looking too, but there was some intangible extra thing with Rob ... I just couldn't put my finger on it. I recalled how Katie had absolutely pined for him; how she would have done anything if he could be her lover again. And I could almost see it happening with me if I wasn't super-careful. Like the time before, Rob wanted to hear all about me and I had to 'fess up about who the McCowans really were. He didn't seem overly surprised that my steady boyfriend was along on that trip, and he even told me he was relieved to discover I had a good excuse for giving him the cold shoulder on New Year's Eve. "I was worried I'd said the wrong thing," he explained. 'As if you could ever do THAT,' I thought with a smile. But I could tell he was pretty happy to find me 'available' this time around. I think we were the last customers in the place when it closed, and they let us stay till they'd finished cleaning and were about to head home themselves (professional courtesy, was Rob's opinion). So we had to finish our conversations in his SUV, parked in my driveway. "Where are you staying?" I asked, wondering why that question hadn't occurred to me before. "At a Holiday Inn over near I-71," he replied. "Not too far from here. Uh, Sandra? You haven't said no for dinner - so that must mean yes, right?" So THAT was his strategy - butter me up so my defenses were totally down, then get me to commit. Well, it worked. "YES, I'll go out to dinner with you, Rob. I wouldn't want to keep you waiting around town forever! If I can get someone to sub for me at work, I can go out with you tomorrow night. Then you can make it to your interview on time. Are you happy now?" "Interview? What interview? Oh, THAT interview ... I completely forgot. And no, I'm NOT happy - I'm ecstatic!" "You're such a silly man," I giggled for at least the hundredth time that night. "Now you'd better tell me what I'm supposed to wear - are we going to McDonald's or somewhere not quite as fancy?" "Well I can only afford McDonald's, but since I won you over this calls for something extra-special. You look pretty good in a skirt, so how about you find something nice along those lines and I'll put on my best suit. I hope you like to dance." "Dancing? Oh, this DOES sound special. I didn't know you were so traditional ..." "What can I say - I like doing things the RIGHT way. And I hear princesses like the traditional treatment - you know, the whole nine yards?" "Hmm ... I'd say you heard right - but only when it comes from a prince." Oh my God, I was digging a pretty deep hole for myself, wasn't I? And I walked straight into THAT one ... "So you think I'm a prince?" he grinned. "Well, that's the best compliment I've had all year." "Really? Oh, I can do a LOT better than that ..." "I'm all ears." He had this huge smile on his face and our eyes were absolutely locked on each other's. "Uh ... maybe tomorrow night," I said, forcing myself to look away. "I, like ... wouldn't want it to go to your head or anything?" Now I was starting to sound like the immature teenager I really was, and not the sophisticated twenty-something young woman he imagined I was. So I wisely grabbed hold of my purse and began opening the passenger door. "I'm, uh, getting pretty tired, Rob ... I should really be going." Rob was out his side and at my door in time to help me out. "Sorry, sweetheart - I've kept you up pretty late, haven't I?" "Yeah," I replied as I steadied myself on my heels, "I DO need my beauty sleep ..." "Not for your looks, Sandra. I don't think you could be any more beautiful than you are right now." 'Just you wait,' I thought as I gave him an appreciative kiss on the lips. But I DID love hearing that from him just the same. It must have been after three when I walked through the front door - I don't remember looking at a clock. Mom appeared briefly at her bedroom door to tell me how relieved she was that I was safely home and to scold me for not calling. She was right, of course, but when I was with Rob that night I couldn't think of another thing. And I hoped she couldn't detect how absolutely thrilled I was to be asked out on a real honest-to-goodness 'traditional' date with Rob Hewitt, the most amazing, funny, hunkiest man ever - with the movie-star looks! As I went through my belated after-work nightly ritual of removing all my makeup and getting ready for bed, I tried to calm down as I mentally worked out what I needed to do to prepare for my date, like get my hair done for instance, and what clothing and accessories I'd need to try on, or if necessary, go out and buy. I briefly considered but ruled out wearing my beautiful white cocktail dress with that new push-up bra - for sure it'd be too fancy - and come on, did that man really need any more encouragement? I know, I should've gone straight to bed, but I knew I'd never get to sleep. So instead I pulled my housecoat over my nightie and crept downstairs, then went online to search for tips on dating. It took a while, but I found a website dedicated to girls in the seventeen-to- twenty-one age range with lots of do's and don'ts and some great clothing, makeup and hairstyle advice for that all-important first date. The part that really caught my attention had to do with signals - as in, making sure your look sends the right message about who you are and how you want to be treated. There were several choices, but the appropriate personality for me, I decided, was 'I'm sophisticated but I want to be romanced.' For that option it went on to say, 'you'll keep his eyes focused on you and your tantalizingly exposed neck and shoulders because you will be wearing a strapless dress with a chic empire waist and an elegant A- line skirt. To compliment this dress, your hair should be done with a sexy perm or in a romantic up-do, with a few wayward wavy tresses falling and framing your face. Don't let your friends discourage from spending too much time and attention preparing for this first date. Remember, it's a fancy restaurant and you want to bedazzle your date!' ***** The next morning I slept in till at least ten. When I finally opened my eyes I got down to business, first calling one of my co-workers who agreed to take my shift, then Turning Heads to see if they could squeeze me in, and next sorting through my jewelry and accessories to make sure I didn't need to go shopping. Then I got showered and dressed and headed downstairs to find Mom. I figured she was owed an explanation of who this new guy in my life was, especially 'cause he'd be coming over later to pick me up for our date, and besides I was sure Phil had already spilled the beans. So I filled her in on how I met Rob, why he was passing through town, and about our mini-date the night before and the big 'real' one he'd asked me out on that evening. She peppered me with a lot of questions about him, like how old was he, did I think he was married ('Married?' I winced - as if!), was he courteous to me, did he know about my real gender, etc. etc., and I answered every one truthfully. Mom seemed a little put out, or maybe reticent, about the prospect of her teenage 'daughter' going out with an older guy who didn't know the big secret. "Are you sure this is wise, Sandra?" she queried me, shaking her head in a way that left no doubt she didn't believe it was. "It was a lot different with Mark. He was more your age ... and you weren't misleading him." "Mom," I replied, trying not to sound exasperated, "it'll be fine. It's just a date, okay? I'm old enough to make up my mind about who I want to go out with. It's not like we're going to run out and have sex or anything like that ..." "YOU might feel that way, but will he? You're a very attractive girl now, Sandra. You have to be so careful. Boys - I mean men - have trouble stopping when they get, uh ... excited." I almost giggled out loud when she said that, but managed to keep a straight face. "MOM! I know all about guys, okay? Don't worry, I can handle myself just fine." "I DO worry ... I'm your mother. And I'm a woman too. I'm speaking from experience, honey. Have you thought about what could happen if he finds out ..." "That I'm not really a girl? He WON'T, Mom. I'd never let him get near enough. Anyway, Rob's too much of a gentleman for that." "I'm sure he IS a gentleman, but I'm still very concerned." "Thanks, Mom ... but look, I have to get going for my hair appointment. Can we talk more about this later?" "Okay, honey - I understand. If you need any help let me know." "I can manage," I shot back as I pulled on my coat and slung my purse over my shoulder. "I love you, Sandra." "Love you too, Mom." 'Oh brother,' I thought as I hurried down the front steps, 'she's treating me like I'm thirteen years old.' While I was waiting at the bus stop I tried keeping my mind off our conversation by pulling out my makeup mirror and touching up my lip color. But as I would come to learn, my mother had good reason to be protective of me. With age comes wisdom, they say - and in 1999 I didn't have enough age OR wisdom to half-fill that lipstick tube! ***** Lucky me, Karen DID manage to squeeze me, in over her lunch hour - probably by not eating, I surmised. And by the time I left the salon I couldn't have been more happy with her latest miracle. She'd managed to take my boring shoulder-length mop and make something sexy and spectacular out of it. I didn't really have enough length yet for a proper up-do, so she'd shortened and tidied it up just a little and then given it a quickie 'weekend' perm. So instead of my regular, straight-ish tresses, I now had a full head of soft wavy curls, not quite shoulder length, and parted off to one side, with just enough volumizer and hold spray applied to make my do look exactly like one of the new styles we'd picked from her latest hairdresser's bible. A sexy perm indeed! On the bus ride home I got the expected stares from the male passengers. I was almost getting used to that, but by then I never worried about whether they could see through my disguise - just a faint but ever-growing concern that one of them might be tempted to follow me when I got off. 'Men!' I thought. 'Why do they have to make things so complicated?' Then the thought struck me that I was the one complicating things - like I was doing that very day. Erica's 'right- brain' analysis popped into my mind - here I was letting my emotional side dictate my actions yet again. True to form, I was pushing ahead against my better judgment and going overboard to make sure Rob found me irresistible. But he wasn't the only one who was about to lose a battle - there's no way I could stop myself either. A wry smile came to my face as I thought of something Kath quoted a lot, from Star Trek: 'resistance is futile!' As I began the process of readying myself for my big date with hunky mister Hewitt, it struck me that it'd been many months since I last went through that ritual. And the only other date that could compare was that amazing night at Chez Victor Hugo when I wore my pretty white eyelet dress and Mark and I kissed for the first time. THAT particular chunk of ice had already been broken by Rob on the ski hill in Vermont, and again by me only a few hours earlier. So I was able to convince myself that this date wouldn't be much to get stressed about. Or would it? What if he tried sweet-talking me into going back to his hotel room with him after dinner? That was easy, I told myself - I'd just politely refuse. Say I needed to catch up on my sleep for work, or something sensible-sounding like that. I was the object of Rob's affections, after all, so I'd have a lot of control over the situation - or so I imagined. THAT concern swept under the rug, the next order of business was a shower - the second that day, as I already did the major cleansing just before going to see Karen. So all I needed to do was pull on a shower cap, get wet, apply some scented body wash and rinse off. Luckily my fingernails, which I usually kept a modest length for school, hadn't been trimmed for a week or so and that afternoon I'd been able to shape them into perfect ovals and paint them and my toenails with my new favorite color, metallic red copper. When the last of the sealer coats was dry I'd spent a good hour or so trying on dresses, skirt-and-blouse sets and various combinations of shoes, belts and jewelry before deciding on what I thought might be the safest choice - a black mid- thigh-length soft wool skirt paired with a lace-trimmed pink short- sleeve silk blouse. A pair of sheer black pantyhose, a wide black belt and my black mary-janes would complete the look. Not exactly what the dating website called for, but I wasn't feeling overly brave at that moment. After another hour spent carefully applying dramatic evening makeup, spritzing perfume and attaching earrings, necklace and bracelets, I stood in front of my full-length mirror taking in the final result. I thought I looked pretty damned good - okay, maybe not spectacular, but plenty good enough for my big dinner date with Rob. Except then I began to second-guess myself. Didn't Rob tell me he'd be wearing his best suit for the occasion? Yes, but what if he was only pulling my leg? Well, I thought, then I'd be dressed at least as well as him and that's the way it should be, right? Right - but what if he WASN'T kidding? What if his best suit was a tuxedo? No, that couldn't be - but he could be wearing a nice well-tailored suit, and a tie - he'd look SO amazing ... but would I still look good enough? And what if he took me to a REALLY fancy restaurant? The website's advice came back to haunt me: "You want to bedazzle your date!" All of a sudden I felt another one of my dreaded panic attacks coming on. I could hear my heart thumping! 'He'll be here in like half an hour,' I thought as I glanced at the clock. 'Shit! What am I gonna do? I can't go out like this - I need something a lot nicer!' But there was no time left to put another whole outfit together, so in an act of desperation I threw open my closet doors, praying for a miracle. And there it was, staring right back at me - the white cocktail dress. "Oh my God," I said aloud, "it's so gorgeous - do I dare?" A quick rifle through my pantyhose supply answered one concern - I had exactly one new pair of sheer flesh-toned hose. There was only one pair of shoes that would work with the dress, but I'd need Kath's cooperation - a quick phone call and a "You just saved my life" got that wheel turning. Then I went to the landing and yelled, "Mom, can I please borrow your red belt?" "Sure, honey, it's hanging in my closet," came the reply. All the stars were lining up! So off came the first outfit, everything but my panties, and on went the lacy white push-up bra I'd tried the dress on with back in February. When I finished settling my boobs comfortably into the demi- cups, I unpackaged the pantyhose and carefully worked them up my legs and thighs, trying hard not to let my long nails start a run. Next I slipped the dress off its padded hanger. It was lined, so no slip, and half a minute later I'd wiggled it down over my hips, positioned the shoulder straps over my bra straps, and I was fumbling with the last few inches of the zipper. 'To hell with it, Mom can do it for me.' The last clothing accessory was Mom's red leather belt. I thought it could work 'cause it was about two inches wide and fastened at the back with bra-style hooks - and thank God I now had a girl's waist, 'cause it wasn't overly snug. Five minutes later I had all my best jewelry attached to my ears, neck, wrist and fingers, and I did a quick hair and face check. "Lipstick!" I said aloud - "Why do I keep forgetting lipstick?" In two seconds the contents of my lipstick case were all over my bed and I was sorting through the twenty-odd tubes till I found what I hoped would be the right color - a bronze shade of red to complement my nail color. When I was done applying it to my lips, I swung around to get the full effect from my long mirror. 'WOW,' I thought with a huge smile, 'like, this is crazy! I've gone way overboard, but he'll just have to suck it up.' The dress ... like, I can't begin to describe how I felt being all made up, wearing that amazing garment. But I was pretty sure how I looked - stunning! And even though my body already had a girl's shape, the dress made me look, I don't know - even more shapely? Like one of those models in the department store catalogs I always admired? Maybe even better - I was certainly showing off more boob than they ever did. And with the high narrow waist and red belt, it made my hips and butt look over-the-top-sexy! But I couldn't afford to linger over the wonderful view. I quickly loaded cosmetics, Kleenex and cash into my white clutch purse and headed downstairs. Kath was seated at one of the kitchen island stools chatting with Mom when I came around the corner. "OH MY GOD," she exclaimed, her jaw nearly hitting the floor. "Who are you and what've you done with Sandy??" Mom's face was a mix of astonishment and cautious approval. "Allow me to introduce myself - I'm Alexandra - so pleased to make your acquaintance," I answered in my most mature aristocratic-sounding voice while extending my hand in a feminine gesture. Mom, who still had her mouth open, noticed my zipper and came over to fix it. Then I asked Kath in my normal voice: "So did you bring them?" Kath reached down beside her stool and handed me a shopping bag. "Here you go, princess - just be nice to them, okay? No running or hiking or climbing trees! I still need them for the prom, remember?" I spontaneously bent down and hugged her. "Thanks old pal - I owe you BIG time." "I'LL say - but you better try them on first, OLD PAL - they might be too small for those clodhoppers of yours ..." I was already reaching down with the first of Kath's bright red patent leather pumps to start working a foot into it. "I don't care - they look perfect." Mom was watching intently, not saying a word. When I had my feet in both shoes, I stood erect and walked around the island a couple of times, trying to estimate how long I could stand to wear them. I recalled when Kath and I were trying shoes on at Naturalizer, she could get away with a narrower fit than me, but these didn't feel as bad as I expected. The toe box was definitely tight, but the sides felt only a little snug, and the length seemed to be workable. I reported this to Kath. "Well, I HAVE been wearing them a lot at home," she said. "You have? Like, what for?" "So I'm totally used to them for the prom. I dance in them down in the basement. So I probably expanded them a little - they seem a bit looser than they were at first." "Hmm ... guess I owe you for that too," I said as I gazed down on my legs and feet. "So what do you think?" I asked my audience. "They match your belt," Kath commented dryly. Mom had something more complimentary to say. "Sandra - you look ... stunning. And your LEGS, they're so long ... if you weren't standing here, right in front of me ..." "I know, Mom - you wouldn't believe it. I feel the same way." "You look so tall ... and so grown up ..." "Good thing," Kath interjected. "She's going out with an older man!" "C'mon, he's not THAT old ..." "No? So how old IS he?" I made a mental note to ask Rob his age. "I think he's only, like, twenty-two or three." "Like I said, you're going out with an older man." "Kath, it's only ONE date. I'll probably never see him again." "That's what you told me before. And here he is in Cincinnati!" "Well he's leaving town tomorrow - he's on his way to Colorado." "When he lays eyes on you tonight, he'll probably forget Colorado and go straight out and buy a house and settle down here for good." "KATH, come on!" I laughed. "That's not his style - Rob's not the kind to stick with one girl for long. That's why I don't mind going on a date with him." The instant those words left my mouth I regretted saying them with Mom present. But it was too late! "Sandra!" she exclaimed with huge concern in her voice. "Maybe you shouldn't be seeing this fellow. He sounds like a ... a ..." "Like a gigolo?" Kath filled in helpfully. "Okay, maybe not a gigolo - you're not paying him, are you? So let's just leave it at disgusting ladies' man." I had my mouth open to defend Rob, but just then the doorbell rang. 'Thank God!' I thought. I might have been apprehensive and anxious about Mom and Kath meeting him, but that was preferable to the grilling they were putting me through. I excused myself and scurried out to the front door. When I pulled it open, there stood an insanely good-looking man dressed in a black single-breasted suit of the latest style, with a baby-blue dress shirt and a blue-and-white patterned tie. On his feet were a pair of well-polished black dress shoes (girls always check out what a guy has on his feet, didn't you know that?). Rob looked so gorgeous I couldn't say a word for at least ten seconds. Come to think of it, neither did he - and his eyes were obviously having trouble staying off my dress and exposed cleavage. Mom and Kath appeared next to me and I came out of my trance long enough to make introductions. For some reason I referred to him as Robert - maybe 'cause the way he was dressed demanded a more formal-sounding first name. "I've heard a lot about you, Mrs. Johnson," he said, continuing to steal glances back in my direction. "I can see where Sandra gets her looks." "Oh, she doesn't need any help from me, Robert," Mom said, kind of suspiciously I thought. "Nice to meet you too, Kathleen. Sandra tells me you're an incredible singer and dancer." "I wish she'd share that opinion with ME some time," Kath joked, but I could tell the compliments made her feel genuinely appreciated, and if the way she was ogling Rob was anything to go by, she was almost as smitten as I was. Then it was MY turn. "You look amazing," he said sincerely, backing up to take in more of the view. "Your daughter has incredible taste in clothes, Mrs. Johnson." I spontaneously grabbed his arm with both hands. "You don't seem so bad in that department yourself, mister Hewitt." "You're very kind. Hmm ... I think I might have to reconsider Colorado. Cincinnati's starting to look like a pretty nice place." "Oh, you wouldn't like it here - we don't have any decent mountains for skiing ..." I stole a sideways glance at Kath, who was fixing me with her trademark "Told you so!" stare. "You can still get there from here," he laughed. "Anyway, we should probably be going - our reservation's for seven." Mom spoke up, "Just a minute while I get my camera." She dashed off to her office and was back in a flash - oh, sorry about the pun! Then she posed Rob and me and took a whole bunch of shots. He had his arm around me with his hand on my bare shoulder for most of them, and he held my hand for the others! "Why don't you take my fur coat, Sandra?" Mom suggested. "It's supposed to be cold tonight." "Oh, are you sure?" I squealed. She'd never let me wear her favorite coat before! And boy, she didn't need to repeat the offer or get the chance to change her mind. I retrieved it out of the front closet and Rob held it as I slipped my ba