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Chapter One
Things to Do with a Ponytail
Going to Europe the summer after freshman year of college had been one of Amanda Sands’ most cherished dreams and the boyfriend she chose to accompany her, Colby Hodge, was an experienced traveler who could easily carry her extra bag. Colby wondered why Amanda even needed two suitcases, arguing that they ought to be traveling lighter, with backpacks instead of suitcases on wheels, but Amanda looked at him with a steely expression in her pale blue eyes, and said, “I’m going shopping in Paris and Rome.” Colby shrugged and accepted her will. They were both spoiled only children, but he was less spoiled and more willing to compromise, whereas she was more determined to get exactly what she wanted at all times.
They were examining designer mark downs in the luggage department at Bartlett’s department store in Woodbridge, Mass, the little village adjacent to Random Point, where Amanda was spending the month of June working in her father’s antiques’ shop and pre-reading required books for sophomore year at Harvard, which she and Colby both attended. Colby was about to depart to work in his family’s winery for a month on the opposite coast. They had agreed to meet in London on July 1st and spend the entire month in Europe together.
“Babe, I’ve reached my saturation point. I’ll be in the pub across the street,” said Colby, disappearing in a flash of long khaki shorts and lean, muscular boy torso under a white t-shirt before she had a chance to protest that it was only three p.m.! Amanda thought he must have a very convincing fake id to get served alcohol in any bar in the commonwealth at age nineteen.
“If I may make a suggestion,” came a silky voice from around the corner of an aisle, as Pamela Bartlett suddenly appeared before Amanda. “One of these will pack as much shopping as you can afford to do in Paris and Rome,” Pamela showed Amanda a smart medium tall piece on wheels.
“If you say so,” said Amanda.
“It’s the nicest sale piece we have too,” Pamela confided.
The two young women had modeled together and walked in the same in store fashion shows at Bartlett’s several times and Pamela was well equipped to judge exactly the type of shopping Amanda would be doing on the summer streets of Europe. What Pamela didn’t know was that Amanda’s anticipated shopping spree was to be financed by a sexual encounter Amanda had engaged in with Pamela’s husband Ambrose Bartlett, several months before Pamela and Ambrose had wed.
Pamela still worked in the Damaris boutique on the third floor, much to the annoyance of the tall, slim and fashionable brunette. She had fully expected to be relieved of all clockable wage-earning duties upon her marriage to the wealthy owner of Bartlett’s department store that spring. She had planned to work solely on dress design from now on, along with her partner Damaris, who put out a smart little line of tailored ready to wear suits and dresses and now possessed two shops in the commonwealth, but had been summarily told by her husband that the boutique at Bartlett’s was still her responsibility and that he had no intention of hiring another clerk at that time. It had been Pamela’s first disappointment as a bride, but she hadn’t argued, then. However, she brooded on the subject every hour of every day. She was currently on her lunch hour and prowling around the store restlessly when she ran into Amanda.
Pamela wasn’t sure if she was happy that Amanda was in Random Point for the summer because even though she was in almost total ignorance about what had transpired between Bartlett and the then college freshman Amanda in the winter and spring, she somehow guessed that her husband had been and probably still was immensely attracted to the willowy blonde daughter of Hugo Sands. The fact of seeing Amanda together with her tall, broad shouldered jock boyfriend was a comfort to Pamela, who was as yet unaware that Colby was about to depart and leave Amanda alone for the next month betwixt all the men of Random Point.
Pamela feared Amanda yet also felt attracted to the polished blonde Ivy League girl. Amanda was lithe, lovely and as interested in apparel as she herself was. Pamela had no close female friends and was beginning to long for a companion to whom she might reveal all her inner thoughts. It should have been Hope Lawrence, but Pamela was aware that her husband had sent Hope good coats and dresses as tips on top of paying her allowance for spanking sessions. Pamela’s jealousy of Hope was endless and while yet she loved her husband, Pamela and Hope would never be dear friends. Laura Sands was very nice, but Pamela had still not gotten over being in love with, being toyed with and then being summarily rejected by Hugo Sands, therefore she had no desire whatever to closely consort with Hugo’s new wife. Everyone knew that Hugo had wooed Laura relentlessly for seven years before finally capturing his prize and this type of romance gave Pamela a pain in her flat stomach to contemplate, because no one had ever shown her such devotion.
“Do you want to have lunch some day?” Pamela asked Amanda impulsively.
“Yes! Tomorrow?”
“All right, meet me at the café upstairs at noon,” said Pamela, unconsciously looking at herself in a mirror to make sure she was still absolutely thin. Food in itself meant very little to her, but she knew that eighteen year olds were always hungry.
Amanda was thrilled as she wheeled her Kenneth Cole suitcase out of the store. The warm, sunny streets of Woodbridge were thronged with the first wave of summer tourists that balmy afternoon and Amanda was so momentarily dazzled by the colors and movement around her that she almost walked into Ambrose Bartlett, who had in fact just been in the pub across the street where Colby now awaited her.
“Amanda, so nice to see you. Have you been shopping?” Mr. Bartlett extended his hand to shake hers, though she had been somewhat more inclined towards exchanging hugs, considering the last time they had seen each other he had made fairly expert love to her, but she realized that they were in a Pamela and Colby danger zone and so only returned his handshake with a squeeze.
“Yes, Pamela steered me towards this for Europe,” said Amanda, smiling at him warmly to let him know that he was now completely forgiven for their first meeting, during which the department store owner had not endeared himself to her. But that was now ancient history, dating back to the previous winter. Their more recent history was much more agreeable and had left Amanda the richer by five thousand dollars. “By the way, congratulations, Mr. Bartlett,” Amanda said.
“Oh, thanks,” he replied vaguely, knowing she meant on his marriage but appreciatively taking in Amanda in the white halter top, beige capri pants and chunky wedge sandals that did remarkable things for her already beautiful arch.
“It looks like Pamela and I are going to be friends,” Amanda told him, hastening to add, at the instant wrinkling of his brow, “But don’t worry, I won’t tell her what we did.”
“Good girl,” said Bartlett, momentarily pressing her hand, then leaving her to return to his store. Amanda watched the sleekly groomed Bartlett enter his store by one of the gilt edged revolving doors with a smile, but when she turned back to continue on her way, she saw Colby standing in the pub window across the narrow cobbled street glaring at her.
Slamming down his mug of ale he folded his arms and frowned heavily at her. Letting go of her suitcase pull for the moment she looked defiantly back at him over her own folded arms. But there were too many tourists passing back and forth in front of them to continue this pantomime for very long so Amanda crossed the street and motioned him out.
“Are you going to be horrible just because I exchanged pleasantries with Mr. Bartlett?” she demanded, as
