flashed. “No meaner than what he did to me.”
“I don’t know…” Julia started to say, but Gwen cut her off.
“Where are we gonna find the woman?” she demanded. “Not in Quimby. Heartbreak’s already scorched the playing field.”
“I’m sure there are a number of younger girls who’d be more than willing,” Laurel said through gritted teeth.
Julia shook her head. “A twenty-year-old won’t do. Zack is attracted to more than a pretty face and a nubile body.”
Laurel conceded the point. “I suppose the woman has to have a degree of substance.”
“And intelligence,” added Julia. “Let’s throw out some names.”
“Karen or Kelly?”
Gwen made a face. “Naw, he’s known them forever.”
“Caitlyn Dumbrowski?”
“Bleach job,” Laurel sneered.
“Erica James?”
“Already hooked up with Heartbreak, like, ten years ago.”
“Suzy Maki?”
“With those teeth? She should be seducing a dentist.”
“Then who?”
“Sara Carlisle will be vacationing at her family’s cabin next month,” Julia suggested. “She’s absolutely gorgeous and smart enough to have made it through law school. And a feminist, too. I bet she’d be game, for the good of the cause.”
Allie waved a hand. “Nope, not Sara. Zack already went out with her—somewhere in between you and Laurel. But she was too smart to fall for his smooth moves.”
“Unlike us,” Gwen said, dourly eyeing a fudge bar.
“We need someone new.” With a sigh, Laurel scanned the women at the table for further suggestions. Her gaze skidded to a halt when it reached Cathy’s face, temporarily filled with cherry streusel. Brows arched, she glanced back at Julia. “Someone like Cathy.”
Julia nodded immediately. “Yes. Zack would go for Cathy.”
“Ohh—” Flushing hotly, Cathy put down the streusel and licked her sticky fingers. “Oh, no. Not me.” She threw up her hands, fingertips glistening. “Don’t even consider it. I’m not the type.”
“You could be.” Laurel studied Cathy’s stark ponytail, horn-rimmed glasses and loose, shapeless clothing. “Take off your glasses. And that awful apron.”
Defensively Cathy wrapped her arms around the denim apron that bore evidence of her close working association with paint, glue, papier-mâché and clay. “No.”
Laurel snatched off the glasses. “Uh-huh. See that, girls? Those are good bones. The brows desperately need tweezing, and makeup will make a world of difference, but I see definite possibilities.” She rose gracefully, walked around Cathy and with a tug loosened the ponytail. Cathy’s long wavy hair fell across her shoulders, such a rich shade of sable it was nearly black.
“Ahhh,” the women chorused.
“Why, Cath, you’re beautiful,” Allie said. “I never realized.”
“I’m not—” Cathy swallowed the denial, though it went down like a sticky lump of clay. Objectively, she knew that she was…attractive. Or could be, if she cared to make the effort. After a bit of trial and error in her younger days—a time that had included a brief audacious-babe stage and a mistaken marriage of equally short duration—she had reached the conclusion that she wasn’t comfortable with the attention and perks that came with being a beautiful woman.
“I’m not the type,” she insisted, shrugging Laurel’s hands away from smoothing out her hair. “Please don’t ask me to do this.”
“You won’t have to actually sleep with Heartbreak,” Julia assured her. “In fact, the plan would be more effective if you don’t. Getting him all worked up and then leaving him frustrated would be quite a shock to the guy’s ego.”
Allie chuckled. “No one’s ever done that before.”
“We’ll coach you,” coaxed Laurel. “For one thing—” she grasped a bunch of gauzy fabric at Cathy’s midriff, pulling taut her batik Balinese blouse “—new clothes from my store would make a world of difference. Something sleek and stylish. There’s a waist and hips under here… I think.” She stepped back, considering.
Cathy shifted on her chair, uneasy with the assessment.
“What’s your bra size? I’ve got a new line of lingerie that’s just…” Laurel kissed her fingertips. “Heartbreak will never recover.”
Cathy tightened her crossed arms. “Forget it. Nobody, least of all Zack Brody, is getting a look at my lingerie.” Or lack of it, she thought. Jockey for Her underwear was good enough for this woman. Satin and lace, corsets and garter belts weren’t her style. Or at least she was pretty sure they weren’t.
“I can give you the right look,” Laurel said as if Cathy hadn’t spoken. “Julia and Allie can give you insight into Heartbreak’s mind. We’ll put the whole thing together. All you have to do is follow directions.”
“I can’t,” Cathy said plaintively. Good thing they had no idea how much she wanted to. “Honestly.” She gestured at herself. “There’s no use. I could never pull it off.”
“Not even for womankind?” Allie asked.
“Or for plain old-fashioned revenge?” Gwen chimed in.
Cathy’s heart clenched. “No.”
“Yes,” Laurel said. There was iron in her voice, which belied the hurt expression she’d assumed in begging Cathy’s favor. “C’mon, Cath. You’re my only hope for retribution. Imagine for one minute how terrible I felt when that—that—smooth operator jilted me.” Laurel’s eyes shifted. “Think of how delicious an appropriate payback would be.”
The women murmured in agreement.
Cathy closed her eyes. “I couldn’t. No…” Her denials were losing strength. But not because of Laurel’s devastation or the future of womankind.
Because of Zack.
Twenty-odd years ago, she’d taken him to her tender, wounded heart. The thought of seeing him again, attracting him, seducing him, maybe even loving him—
And making him fall in love with her in return.
Cathy’s eyes opened wide. Of course. That was it. She was being handed the chance of a lifetime!
The women watched her expectantly.
Cathy made a snap decision.
Disregarding both the legend behind Zack’s nickname and the genesis of her own insecurities, she took a deep
