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“I’ve got to get going.” Justin held out the plate. “Nice to meet you, Abigail.”
He turned and left abruptly. Mrs. Abernathy frowned at his back. “Friend of yours? He’d adorable, too. I was about to introduce myself.”
“He’s my neighbor across the street. Come in, Mrs. Abernathy.” Candy found herself clutching the pie plate in a violent embrace, and made herself release it and close the door, stopping to take one more peek at the broad shoulders striding away.
Why did this man have to be so confusing and so, so delicious? Why couldn’t she control her feelings around him? Her head seemed to be totally enslaved to her heart and hormones.
Sighing, she followed Abigail and Mrs. Abernathy into the living room, where an hour later, Mrs. Abernathy had chosen, thank God, the less revealing outfit Abigail was wearing, had approved the final menu, had brought up a thousand logistics Candy had already covered and finally left, proclaiming that the party would be the hit of the year.
Candy and Abigail lost no time in stripping off the costumes and reassuming their mortal forms.
“I should go, too.” Abigail pulled her long dark hair back in a ponytail that brought her wide dark eyes and lovely cheek-bones into prominence. The same hairstyle made Candy look like a middle-schooler. “But first we’re having a sit-down.”
“Over what?” Candy looked at her watch, pretending to be worried about time, when she was actually trying to avoid the inevitable continuation of their argument over Justin. Especially since, having met him, Abigail would consider herself an expert. “I have to get my Professor outfit ready for Sam.”
“This won’t take long.” Abigail led the way downstairs and into the kitchen as if she owned it, took down a glass, filled it with water and guzzled half. “We need to talk more about this Justin thing.”
Candy slumped onto a stool and groaned, as if she hadn’t expected those exact words. “Why?”
“He is gorgeous, Candy. Like oh-my-God gorgeous.”
Candy put her hands over her ears. “I do not need to hear this.”
“Yes.” Abigail reached over the counter and yanked her hands down. “You do.”
“Make it quick then, because I have to get ready and I think I’m allergic to your lectures.”
“Did you see how he was looking at you?”
“Uh, yeah. He was looking at you, too. Because we 146
were showing almost as much skin as Vegas showgirls. Exactly what I was telling you about what the guy values in wom en.”
“No. No, honey. This was not the look of a guy into your body. This was the look of a guy into you.”
“Oh, really.” Candy made a sound of derision while her heart did another triple flip.
“Really.”
“Then why doesn’t he ever pay attention to me when I’m not dressed like a streetwalker? Why did he say no after his party if he thinks I’m that amazing?” The anguish in her voice surprised her.
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s a virgin. Maybe he was con-stipated. Maybe he’d just found out his best friend killed someone.”
“His best friend was at the party.”
“You know what I mean.” Abigail put her empty glass into the sink. “The point is, what is so horribly wrong with a man thinking you’re hot when you’re half-naked?”
“Because that sex kitten part isn’t really me.”
“Your body isn’t you?”
“It’s a costume, it’s a put-on attitude.”
Abigail clutched the sides of her head. “Not this again.
Since grade school you’ve clung to this ridiculous idea that you’re not sexy. Sometimes I felt like you were trying to be invisible when we went out.”
“No, I was invisible next to you.”
“Give me a break. You just wanted to feel that way.” She crossed to one of Candy’s food cabinets and scanned the contents. “Worse, then you found a guy who made you feel even more invisible and called it love.”
Ouch. Candy scowled at her. “Now you’re sounding like Justin.”
Abigail’s head whipped around. “Justin? He said that?”
“Well. Kind of.” She sighed and thumped her elbows on the counter. “Yes. He did.”
