Oh, crap—sorry, I mean, thanks for the offer on the drink, but can I take a rain check? I have somewhere to be, and I lost track of time.”
“Hot date?”
Ken was happily married, so she knew he wasn’t coming on to her. “No, volunteer work I do in the evenings.”
“You’re a wonder, Joy. Not everyone would work all day and then volunteer at night. Make sure that’s noted on your employee profile.”
“That’s not necessary. It’s something I do because I enjoy it.”
“Still, can’t hurt to keep building that résumé. Joy?”
“Yes?”
“You really did a great job on this recall—I’ll be sure to make that known to the board when we’re making the promotion decisions.”
She smiled, nodding. “Thanks, Ken, I appreciate that.”
She practically danced to the parking lot—she was back on track, and in line for the promotion. At the moment, she had to grab some dinner and get to Second Chance. She’d offered to do the night shift there and had her change of clothes in the backseat, ready to go.
When Pam had called that morning asking her to cover at the last minute because Rashid couldn’t make it, she’d jumped at the chance, maybe a little too eagerly. There was the small—teensy, really—chance that she was avoiding going home since Rafe might be tempted to come over and see her. The events of the previous evening had been thrumming through her brain and her body all day long, and she didn’t know what to think about it, except that she didn’t want to think about it.
However, Rafe had been wrong about one thing: she hadn’t gone to sleep and dreamed about him because she’d been up, tossing and turning and trying not to think about how he’d tenderly touched her face, the heat in his gaze, or the gentle kiss he’d offered—with the promise of so much more.
If she’d dared let herself fall asleep she would have spontaneously combusted, having been so close to him, his presence following her into sleep. So she’d stayed awake, his words echoing in her mind as she realized she didn’t need to go to sleep to have Rafe Moore—he was offering himself to her on a silver platter. Maybe she was crazy, but it scared her to death.
In her dreams she was a different woman, uninhibited, sensual—not her ordinary, uptight self. She meant what she’d told him—she dated, sure, and she’d liked a few of the guys she’d seen over the years well enough to take things to their inevitable conclusion in the bedroom. She’d dealt with the sting of more than one breakup, as well. None of the men had said she was awful in bed or anything, but what else was a girl to think? She obviously didn’t have the sex appeal she did in her dreams. Dream sex was usually more satisfying for her, too, sadly. Even so, she hoped it would cease soon—her sleep deprivation was wearing her out.
Rafe was interested in her because he’d heard that sexy version of herself, not the real Joy. Joy was willing but awkward, generally not knowing exactly how to respond to a man’s touch. She didn’t want to be like that, but even when she wanted to participate, she never felt natural or carried away by passion. It was a self-perpetuating problem that had converted a rather boring sex life into a bona fide dry spell. Rafe was offering to help her end it, but his interest was based on false information.
That was why she’d pushed him away—he had a fantasy of her and it was so far from reality that it could only lead to disappointment for both of them. Rafe might like her hair down, but it would take a lot more than freeing her hair to thaw out whatever made her so boring in bed. The one thing she was sure of was that she couldn’t face seeing disappointment in her performance mirrored in yet another man’s eyes.
Especially not in Rafe’s hot-chocolate eyes.
She hoped he’d take the hint and back off. Better to nip this in the bud, she thought as she drove into the Second Chance parking lot.
Cheery multicultural holiday decorations were on display in the windows and on the lawn. People who stayed at the shelter came from varied backgrounds. There was a menorah in the window circled by Christmas lights. A Santa stood on the small scruffy patch of front lawn beside a makeshift manger. Joy smiled, realizing this was the only time looking at all the Christmas decorations hadn’t made her wrinkle her nose.
Maybe it was because here the decorations meant something more than the suburban competition to outdo one’s neighbors. Here, this little pastiche of holiday cheer represented hope … and home, if only for the moment. For people who lived here and were working so hard to improve their lives, this was a sign of their belief in something good. Bolstered, she got out of the car. She was avoiding Rafe, but even that couldn’t dim her optimism as she walked through the doorway, looking forward to her evening.
“WOW—LOOK AT YOU!”
Pam spun around, surprised. She hadn’t even heard Joy walk up. She also wasn’t decked out in her usual jeans, T-shirt and Padres cap with a pen stuck behind her ear.
“This looks okay?” Pam asked hesitantly, smoothing the sides of her deep green formfitting dress down for what must have been the fiftieth time, flashing looks in the mirror and then at Joy for reassurance. Pam’s fortysomething curves were still holding up, and she didn’t look half-bad, but she hadn’t dressed up like this in such a long time. She just wasn’t sure.
“Okay? You look amazing. I love your hair that way—that pretty little holly clip is a nice touch. That dress is to die for. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this dressed up—or this nervous.”
Pam smoothed her dress yet again. “I have a date, but I’m thinking twice about it.”
“Is this about your mystery man? You know, I promised not to push, but if he has you this nervous, he must be terrific, or is something wrong?” Joy prompted.
Pam knew she wasn’t being fair, keeping her relationship a secret. Besides, tonight everything would be out in the open anyway, so she certainly should tell Joy, whom she considered her best friend. She was so afraid of recriminations, especially since Joy meant so much to her. What if when Pam told her, Joy thought she was a total skank? Still, she had to take that chance.
“He is … terrific. This is our first dress-up date, and I don’t know. I had this event, a Christmas party with the local chamber of commerce, you know, because of all the business connections I have with the shelter, and so I go every year, and this time I thought, well, maybe I won’t go alone. So I asked him.”
Joy nodded approvingly. “Sounds like a good plan. But. Who. Is. He?” Joy insisted playfully, and Pam bit her lip, drawing up the courage to answer her question.
“It’s Ted.”
“Ted?” Joy repeated, her brow furrowed. Then her eyes went wide with realization. “Our Ted? Ted Ramsey?”
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Pam said, tensing as she mentally braced herself.
“Wow. I can see that—I mean, I didn’t see it, but now it seems so obvious. You guys would be great together. How long have you two been, you know …?”
Pam sagged against the desk. “We had an immediate attraction—I knew it shouldn’t happen, but we gave in after he’d been staying here about six months.”
“You
