pounded down the sidewalk after her.
Paula shouted an expletive and the bus jerked to a halt and the door shuddered open.
Bonnie caught a glimpse of an old woman in a scarf looking out the window, and she winced. “Paula, have a little respect.”
“You’re such a goody two-shoes,” Paula said to her, climbing the steps. “Seven-forty,” she snapped at the driver when she reached him. “This bus isn’t supposed to leave until seven-forty. It is now—” she thrust her wristwatch in front of the driver’s face “—seven thirty-seven. Thanks to you, I’ve probably got runs in my stockings and I’m gonna look hideous when I get to work.”
“I didn’t tell you to run around widout your shoes on,” the driver said in a thick Jersey accent.
He couldn’t have been more than twenty or twenty-one, Bonnie thought. He had no idea what he was up against. She’d known Paula since kindergarten and she’d never known her to let go of an argument until some sort of blood was spilled. Hopefully humiliation and an abject apology would suffice.
Paula drew up her petite frame. “The West Hudson County transit authority, who issues your paychecks by the way, employs you to follow the schedule that they’ve set forth. When you drive away before your appointed pickup time, you are, in fact, breaking your employment contract. Which is grounds for termination.” She narrowed her eyes at the driver. “Which means you’d be sacked. Got it?” She rifled through her large handbag and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “Now what’s your name?”
“Don Vittoni,” he said miserably.
She wrote and said, “Okay, listen, Don Vittoni, I’ll let it slide this time, but if you do it again, I’m gonna have to write a letter to your boss. Got it?”
He nodded.
“Good.” She smiled and turned to Bonnie, who was now cringing with embarrassment as the entire bus had gone quiet. “Let’s find some seats.”
Three men scrambled to their feet, vacating their seats.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” Paula said sweetly, pulling Bonnie down the aisle with her.
They sat and the bus thundered away from the curb. Paula tapped the face of her watch. “Seven-forty. Right on schedule.”
“I think poor Don Vittoni nearly wet himself,” Bonnie commented as they rumbled down the rough road toward the city.
“That’ll teach him. Now, where were we?”
“When?”
“Oh, yes, green—”
“Do we have to talk about this?”
“—it’s not slimming, you know.”
“What are you saying, I look fat in this?”
“Well…yeah. Not that I think you should lose weight or anything.”
“Really?” Hope surged. For as long as she could remember, Bonnie had been ten pounds over the insurance chart weights for her height.
“Yeah. I think you’d look weird skinny.”
Bonnie’s heart sank.
“I just think, you know, you should wear clothes that flatter you,” Paula said. “Like black.”
“Because it’s slimming?” Bonnie glared at Paula. It wasn’t the first time she’d called attention to the extra padding Bonnie carried around with her. She’d been doing it since seventh grade. And all that time, Paula had stayed infuriatingly thin, with a tiny waist and the kind of heart-shaped butt that men loved.
“No, because with that pale blond hair of yours it’s really striking. Red, too. And red would give your cheeks a little color.”
“God, now I’m pale. Look, Paula, I have a meeting with Mark this morning. This is just the kind of pep talk I don’t need, all right?”
Paula raised her hands. “All right, all right, I’m just trying to help.”
“Well, you’re not.”
“Okay. I won’t say another word.” Paula pantomimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.
“Good.”
A split second of silence passed.
“Except to say this: if you want to seduce this guy, you ought to throw away that book and use your brain instead. Men like sex.”
Several heads swiveled their way.
“Am I wrong?” Paula asked the elderly gentleman next to her. “Men like sex, right? They like to see a little skin.”
Bonnie’s face burned.
The elderly woman sitting next to the elderly man leaned toward Paula and said, “They certainly do.”
Paula splayed her arms. “Thank you.” She turned to Bonnie with a smug expression. “There, see? I told you.”
“Very scientific.”
“Ask anyone here.” Paula started to stand up but Bonnie grabbed her and hauled her back down again. There was a guy several seats down dressed as what appeared to be a Power Ranger. Bonnie did not want to engage him in a conversation about sex.
“Stop it!” she said to Paula. “Look, you do things your way and I’ll do things mine.”
“Okay, but I’ll bet you I get my boss before you get yours.”
“He’s not exactly my boss, he’s the vice president of the company. But your point is taken. And you’re wrong.”
“So we have a bet?” Paula held out her hand. “Whoever gets her dream man first wins dinner at Martini’s.”
“Will it shut you up?”
“For now.”
Bonnie put her hand out. “Then it’s a deal.”
By four o’clock in the afternoon, Mark Ford had postponed his meeting with Bonnie two times. She was beginning to think it wasn’t going to happen when his administrative assistant called hers at four-fifteen and asked if she could go to his office.
It took only about ten minutes for them to agree on their handling of a new account, but during that time Bonnie noticed he kept solid eye contact with her. That was a good thing. Leticia Bancroft had mentioned eye contact as a major key to seduction.
Bonnie was collecting her notes when Mark suddenly said, “Hey, can I ask you something a little…off topic?” He gave her a dazzling smile.
Wow—could Leticia Bancroft’s advice really be working this fast? “Sure.”
“Do you know anyone here who might be willing to spend a little overtime with me? I need some help getting
