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“You’re going to march over there, rip Reid from his computer, and seduce him before he knows what hit him in the spreadsheet,” Blair said.
“But clearly he doesn’t want to be bothered,” Maggie said. “He hasn’t texted or called since Saturday. He’s got more important things to think about. You heard what Justyn said about the business meeting and the investors.”
“Never mind that right now,” Blair said, moving over to the chest of drawers. “We have to find the perfect rainy day Tuesday, come-hither outfit. Wait, what is this?” She grabbed a piece of bright red lace poking out from under a heap of tank tops.
“Remember, I bought this at the beginning of last semester,” Maggie blushed as she tried to
grab the candy apple red bra from Blair’s hand. “But you know what a disaster that turned out to be. Ungrateful college boys.”
“So you saved it for the perfect occasion?” Blair asked. She poked around in the drawer some more. “Aha! Here it is. The matching bottom,” she exclaimed, waving around the accompanying lacy bikini over her head and beginning a victory dance.
Maggie started toward her in an attempt to grab the garment from her hand, but Blair proved faster as she dashed left for the bed.
“This little ensemble and your khaki London Fog raincoat, and you are good to go. Mr. Frustrated-by-numbers will be speechless and drooling. He’ll be putty in your hands.”
“Absolutely not,” Maggie said. “First of all, I’m not going along with this preposterous plan of yours, and even if I was considering it, I would wear something ... more ... something more ... You know ... with clothes. But cute, of course,” she squeaked out.
“See? You are considering it. Now, hear me out. You said the morning on the pier was great, right? Hot?” There had to be a way to convince Maggie to do this.
Maggie nodded.
“And you definitely want more? Aren’t you always beating yourself up about not taking the bull by the horns and living life? Isn’t that what this summer is supposed to be about? Fun on the island?”
“No entanglements,” they said in unison.
Maggie giggled. “Ok, say I was going to go along with this plan of yours. Do I just show up on his doorstep in my raincoat, bra, and panties, and say, what?”
“You really don’t have to say anything.” She winked. “Just open up the coat. Have you seen yourself this summer? The tan and running agrees with you. The boy won’t know what hit him.”
“I don’t know,” Maggie said. “The payoff’s tempting, but I’ve never done anything like this. It’s crazy.”
She looked at Maggie and raised one knowing eyebrow.
“We need a second opinion. Justyn!” she yelled downstairs. “Get up here. We need the guy’s perspective, Mr. Perceptive.”
“Blair, no!” Maggie said. “We are most definitely not going to let him in on this.”
“In on what?” Justyn asked as he propped himself in the doorframe of Maggie’s bedroom. He crossed his feet at the ankles and shot her a quizzical look. Blair eased herself onto the bed next to Maggie.
“So you say Reid needs some type of physical activity to get out his frustrations, right? And you want to know what went down at the meeting, but being a good friend and partner you know not to ask until he’s ready to talk?”
“Yeah,” Justyn said. “But it’s no big deal. The rain will stop, and he’ll get back to the water and then wham! He’ll feel better after a few hours of exercise.”
“But the weatherman said we’re in for at least another day and a half of rain with the front stuck off the coast,” Blair said. “Don’t you want to know what happened?”
“You’ve got a point there,” Justyn said. “Too bad we don’t have an indoor pool on the island, and he could swim.”
She stood and pulled Maggie by the arms until her petite friend was on her feet, standing right in front of Justyn.
“I give you my cute friend, Maggie, the perfect physical activity substitute,” she said. “Plus, she looks much better than some smelly old swimming pool.”
Justyn shot them both a questioning look.
“What do you think about Maggie showing up at Reid’s door in her raincoat and well, you know, a cute set of under garments?” She said.
“Under what?” Justyn asked.
She casually waved the balled up lace in her hands.
