tote and grabbed her car keys.
Ann was running late too, and they met on the street outside Maria’s Taverna, under the blue-and-white awning. Ann ran a hand through her hair and said, “I swear, sometimes I wonder why I chose law. The clients are a pain, the partners are a bigger pain and the secretaries have chips on their shoulders the size of a Douglas fir.”
“Bad day?”
Ann heaved a deep sigh. “Yeah, but what’s new? One sort of highlight, though. Brad sent me a red rose with a card saying he was looking forward to our next date.” She chuckled, though the sound was ragged. “I’m looking forward to it too, but with both of our crazy workloads, we’ll be lucky if we can coordinate schedules before the new year.”
“It’s only July.”
“And that tells you how busy I am.” She raked her fingers through her hair again. Thanks to the short, practical style she wore, the locks fell back in place. “Sometimes I think the Foursome’s Monday nights are the only thing that keep me sane. Definitely better than yoga. So, anyhow, Suzie, how did outrageous69 do?”
Suzanne patted her bulging tote. “The lady’s hot.” She only wished she, plain old Suze, was half as hot.
Perhaps Ann heard the ambivalence in her voice. She patted Suzanne’s shoulder. “Honey, that lady is you. You were the girl in the cave, right? I mean, it wasn’t Nicole Kidman.”
Because of her hair, height and creamy skin, Suzanne often got compared to Nicole Kidman. Not that she saw much resemblance herself. The actress’s features were sharp and pointy, her eyes blue rather than greeny-gray.
But had the Cretan god seen a resemblance? Maybe that’s why she’d turned him on.
Ann poked her shoulder. “Stop it right this moment, Suze. I swear, you’re as insecure as an articling student going to court for the first time. You’re much prettier than Nicole is, and it’s you the man wanted.”
Feeling slightly cheered, Suzanne followed Ann through the blue-painted doorway. Jenny and Rina were settled at a table by the open French doors, with a large carafe of Greek wine. A waiter hurried over to fill two more glasses and ask if they’d like to order appetizers.
“What do you say, gals?” Ann said. “That gigantic appie platter, to share, plus a large Greek salad to make sure we get our veggies?”
They’d been to Maria’s enough times that no one needed to open a menu. Everyone nodded approval, and the waiter said, “It’ll only be a few minutes.”
Jenny turned to Suzanne. “Well? How’d we do?”
Suzanne reached into her bag, brought out a small handful of papers and handed them to Jenny.
“Crap, I expected more.” Her friend scowled at her suspiciously. “Did you read and pre-screen?”
Suzanne shook her head, fighting back a smile. She reached into her bag and withdrew another batch, which she handed to Rina. Another handful went to Ann, and she kept some for herself. By this time everyone was grinning.
Jenny rubbed her hands together. “Okay, that’s more like it! Now we read them aloud. We’ll each take a turn. I’ll start.”
Suzanne took a deep breath. Glancing around the room, her gaze snagged on the paintings and photos of Greece. Sundrenched white buildings, fishing boats on a beach, yes, they called up memories. Was her Greek god a true memory? Would she find out tonight?
“Hey, Suze?” Jenny was waving a piece of paper in her face. “You with me?”
“Go ahead.”
“Okay, this one’s from ‘imahottie.’” Jenny wrinkled her nose. “Tell me this isn’t your guy.”
“Better not be, or my fantasy will be ruined.” Oh my God, she’d never thought of that. What if the guy did answer, and he was some kind of jerk, not the sex god she dreamed about? She wanted to grab those e-mails back from her friends, but knew they’d never let her.
“So,” Jenny went on, “imahottie says, ‘Hey blondie, if you’re looking for a hot time, I’m the guy for you. I’ve got a seven-inch dick—’”
Jenny broke off, hooting with laughter as the others joined in. When they calmed down, she said, “Someone ought to tell dickhead what he can do with his seven-inch dick. Anyone want to hear the rest of this one?”
They shook their heads, and Ann took her turn. “This is from ‘johnboy.’ He says ‘I’m a sensitive new-age guy—’”
“Groan,” Jenny broke in.
“‘new-age guy,’” Ann persisted, “‘who loves Greece and good sex. I’ll be up front and say I’m not the man who shared that cave, but it sounds like fun. I’ve been told I’m a good lover, and I believe in always satisfying my partner. How about giving me a chance to satisfy you?’”
She turned the paper facedown. “Give the man points for trying.”
“I wonder how big his dick is?” Jenny said.
Rina swatted her with another sheet of paper. “My turn. This one’s from ‘sugarpie.’ ‘If you think sex with a man can be good, just wait until you’ve tried it with a woman.’” She broke off. “Oh my, I do believe you’ve hooked yourself an inhabitant of the isle of Lesbos, outrageous69. And that island was in Greece, right? Anyhow, sugarpie says, ‘No man can ever understand your body the way I can. No man will ever respect and worship it as I will. No man will—’”
“No dick at all,” Jenny broke in, and they all laughed.
“Enough,” Suzanne said. “I freely confess I’m looking for a dick and—oops!” She broke off as the waiter appeared, bearing a huge platter of food.
Everyone took a moment to admire the presentation of spanokopita, calamari, those yummy little meatballs, dol-mathes, pita bread and hummus and tzatziki dips. They each took a favorite, as the waiter added a big bowl of Greek salad to the table.
Suzanne popped a bit of hummus-laden pita into her mouth, then glanced down at the first sheet on her own pile of replies. What she saw made her choke and swallow the wrong way. When she could talk again, she said, “This is freaky. ‘Young woman, your feet are on the wrong path. It’s time to return to fundamental values.’”
“A religious nut,” Ann commented.
“Listen to the rest. ‘But first you must atone and be punished. Submit yourself to me and I will oversee your salvation.’”
“A sadistic religious freak. He wants to tie you up and whip you,” Jenny said. “That sure wouldn’t turn my crank.” Then she smirked at Ann. “But maybe you should reply. You’re the one who likes being tied up.”
Ann stuck out her tongue. “Silk, tied very loosely. And he definitely wasn’t whipping me, at least not with anything more than his tongue—and his eight-inch dick.”
“Oooh!” Rina sighed, fanning herself with her stack of e-mails. “Eight inches. Imahottie just doesn’t measure up.” She stuck her fork into a stuffed grape leaf, lifted the
