looked at Maxine. Then at Bobbie. This was probably a case of the lesser of two evils. Still, if Bobbie could pull off a Twango-Drifter relationship, then she would have his undying gratitude.
“Well?” Maxine again. She gave her finger one more seductive crook.
“I need to rest up for tomorrow,” Aidan heard himself say. “For the start of the lottery. I’ll be spending every waking hour of the next week with Bobbie.”
Maxine snapped her shoulders so straight that he heard joints crack. “You’re actually going through with that stupid nonsense?”
Aidan nodded. He glanced at Bobbie again. Her mouth had dropped open, but beneath all that dumbfoundedness, he saw a glimmer in her eyes as well. Not lust. No. Not this. This was something more akin to hope.
“You bet,” he answered.
“But, but, but—” It took Maxine a couple of seconds of sputtering to remember how to say more than just that one objection. She fluttered her fingers in Bobbie’s direction. “But she already has a boyfriend.”
“No, I don’t,” Bobbie insisted.
Maxine turned her still-hopeful and somewhat pathetic gaze to Aidan.
“She doesn’t,” he piped in, hoping it’d give Maxine motive to leave. “Besides, a deal is a deal. Bobbie won the lottery, and therefore she has my undivided personal attention for an entire week.”
He thought he saw flames dance across Maxine’s mud-brown eyes. “Then you’re in for a very dull week. Ask Jasper Kershaw if you don’t believe me. He’s jilted her twice.”
And with that totally irrelevant comment, she turned on her heels and headed out the door.
Aidan figured Bobbie would lose her composure over such a tacky confrontation. But she didn’t. She didn’t even spare Maxine a parting glance.
“Hope her little bitty kitty will come down from the hackberry before the week is up,” Bobbie commented, a touch of humor in her voice. She checked her watch. “Oh, I gotta go. I’m meeting a client over in Dalton City. Listen, why don’t you drop by my house after work so we can iron out the details of our plan?”
Heaven help him. Now it was called our plan. Just like the term blind date, it made him itch.
“I’ll put out the word that you’re officially off limits to the women of Liffey,” she assured him. “It’ll go faster if you do the same.”
Aidan managed a nod before Bobbie all but sprinted out of the office. It took him a second before he realized what he’d done.
Well, heaven’s bells!
Hadn’t this been exactly what he’d tried to avoid? He’d actually been talked into monkeying with his own life.
3
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GREAT. Now, there were three dogs, two cats and an ornery raccoon following her. As if she hadn’t already had an eventful day, now she had to put up with this.
While Bobbie turned down the narrow road that led to her house, she continued to fan herself with the latest copy of Travel-or-Bust Monthly. Maybe, just maybe, the icky scent of the massage oil would fade before Aidan came over to discuss the details of the Twango-Drifter Plan. A plan that had plagued, tormented and needled her the entire afternoon.
Geez Louise, what the devil had she been thinking when she suggested that brilliant idea?
It was one of the worst ideas she’d ever had. Well, not counting the time she’d let her best friend, Crystal, talk her into getting her navel pierced. But this was definitely the second worst.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she repeated to Mr. Eidelson, the client she’d met with only an hour earlier. “I believe I made that clear before I left. I’m sorry, but Boxers or Briefs will not be marketing your Sensuous Musk Massage Oil.”
She rolled her eyes when the man had the nerve to ask why. Bobbie gave her phone headset an adjustment so he’d clearly hear her every word. “Well, for one thing, your product stains like crazy. And I’m not just talking about the big splotch it left on my skirt either. My thighs, palms and kneecaps are purple as well. I stopped at the gas station and tried to scrub it off, but it seems to have embedded into my skin.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Mr. Eidelson said. “The bottle slipped right out of my hand.”
Yes, and that slip had sent a pint of the industrial-strength massage oil right into her lap. In addition to the goop causing her an uncomfortable drive home, it now appeared the musky scent was attracting critters.
And speaking of critters, she saw Jasper’s devil-red sports car when she turned into the driveway. Even in the already dusky light, it didn’t take her long to spot him. There he was, leaning against her mailbox as if he had every right to be there.
She issued a mumbled goodbye to Mr. Eidelson and tossed the headset phone onto the passenger seat.
“Bobbie,” Jasper greeted when she stepped from her car. “I’m glad you’re finally home. I’ve been waiting for you.” He lifted his nose in the air and sniffed. “Say, what’s that smell? A new perfume, huh? Guess the animals like it. It’s a little strong, but I could get used to it.”
She ignored his idiotic observation and turned to see if the other critters were still there. They were, and they were gaining now that she’d stopped. Bobbie rolled up the travel magazine in case she had to ward them off. Not that she planned to hit them, but waving the glossy pages around and shouting might work.
Jasper walked down the flagstone steps to join her. “Say, that really is a great perfume. You oughta wear that more often.” He sniffed her again. “By the way, something must be wrong with your phone. I’ve been trying to call you for a couple of hours.”
“I had your number blocked.” Bobbie kept her attention on the animals. One of the cats and the raccoon didn’t look especially pleased when they realized she wasn’t a potential girlfriend.
“I know you’re angry about what happened,” Jasper said as if his latest jilting were only a mild inconvenience instead of the life-altering, humiliating experience that it had been. “But I can explain everything.”
“I don’t want an explanation.”
She grabbed her purse and headed for the house, taking the steps two at a time. The critters didn’t come any closer, but Bobbie didn’t plan to take any chances. Besides, she wanted to get away from Jasper more than she did the animals.
Unfortunately, Jasper followed her. Bobbie barely managed to get inside the house and slam the glass storm door between them.
“I got scared,” Jasper prattled on. He pressed his face right against the glass, making himself look a little like a severely mashed Mr. Potato Head. “I guess I wasn’t ready
