Anyone but You

Chapter 3

"Then what happened?" Charity said the next day when Nina had spilled her guts on the phone.

"Then Fred threw up everything, and the mood sort of died." Nina scratched Fred behind the ears as he stretched out next to her on the couch, getting dog hair on her baby blue sweats as he wallowed himself a place beside her. "I got a book out of the library today on how to take care of dogs, and it said never to feed them people food. We could have killed the poor baby feeding him all those Oreos. From now on, Fred eats only dog food."

Fred lifted his head to give her a dirty look, and she scratched him behind the ears again until he relaxed.

Charity, as usual, had a one-track mind. "Does Alex still get Oreos?"

"No." Nina felt the warm little tingle she'd been getting every time she thought about Alex. That was one tingle she was going to get rid of. "Alex gets nothing. I'm staying away from that man."

"Oh, come on, live a little," Charity said. "I admit the doctor bit is a letdown, but he's still ten years younger. That qualifies as toy boy. Go for it."

"You're telling me this based on your years of experience," Nina said.

"No, if I was basing it on my experience, I'd tell you to run like hell. Kenneth was a doctor, remember?"

"Just vaguely," Nina said. "You weren't married that long."

"A year," Charity said. "Long enough to know marrying a doctor was a bad idea. Don't get serious about him. Just toy with him for your memory book."

The thought was attractive, but Nina shoved it aside. "Speaking of memory books, how is yours coming along?"

"It's wonderful," Charity said. "I wrote all night. It was so exciting. I just love this!"

"That's great!" Nina tried to make her voice sound enthusiastic while she prayed that Charity's book would be publishable. "Tell me about it."

"Well, first of all, I guess I should tell you that I'm going to use 'she' instead of 'I.' I just can't write it with 'I.' It's too embarrassing."

"You're using third person," Nina said. "Sure. That's not a problem."

"And instead of using my name, I'm going to use my middle name," Charity went on. "Charity seems sort of… not very serious, you know?"

"What's your middle name?"

"Jane," Charity said. "That's serious, don't you think?"

"Yes," Nina said, beginning to worry that Charity was going to plan forever without ever writing anything. "Did you write any of the book yet?"

"Of course I wrote part of the book." Charity sounded indignant. "I finished the first chapter. It's about Howard." Her voice grew thoughtful. "You know, I'd forgotten a lot of this stuff before I sat down to write it. This is like therapy only much cheaper."

"Howard." Nina frowned, trying to remember. "Was he the hockey player who wanted you to wear the mask and pads?"

"Oh, please." The disdain in Charity's voice was clear over the phone. "That was Helmut. I could barely do a paragraph on him. He wasn't that interesting."

"I found him interesting," Nina said, but Charity plowed on through her.

"Howard was my date to the Riverbend Spring Fling."

Nina sat up, displacing an annoyed Fred. "In high school? You're going that far back?"

"I'm thinking about regressing to past lives. The faraway stuff isn't as painful to write about."

"All right, all right." Nina backed down before Charity could. "The Spring Fling is fine."

"The chapter's called 'Gone With Her Virginity,'" Charity said.

Nina thought of Jessica. "Great title," she lied. "What's next?"

"Mitchell. The Eagle Scout I hooked up with my senior year. We spent a lot of time working on his woodsman's badge."

"Sounds… natural."

"I'm calling that chapter 'Forest Grope.'"

Nina winced. "Catchy."

"And then I'll do that senior fraternity guy I dated as a college freshman," Charity said. "Roger. You knew me by then. Remember Roger, the creep?"

"Vaguely," Nina said.

"I'm going to call that one 'Animal Louse,'" Charity said. "You know, I'm really getting into this."

Nina thought of Jessica and what Jessica would think of Charity's memoir. "Go for it," she told Charity. "But I want to see the first chapter as soon as it's done. Do not come to the office and show it to Jessica without me seeing it first."

"No problem," Charity said. "Now it's Saturday afternoon, and you deserve a break. Go downstairs and seduce that nice boy. It'll round off your weekend."

"I'm not going near that nice boy," Nina said. "I don't care what you say. I'm staying in my apartment and watching movies with my dog."

On Monday, Nina came home to find her dog glaring at her.

She put her briefcase on the couch and dropped to her knees beside him. "I know, I know, I haven't been here all day. But Fred, there's more to life than weekends. I have to work all day. That's how I get the money to keep you in dog biscuits." She scratched him behind his ears and rolled him over on his back to rub his tummy until he stopped being hostile and went back to morose. "You know what you need, Fred?" she said brightly, and he pricked up his ears, probably hoping to hear the word Oreo.

"You need to get out," Nina finished getting to her feet. "Let me change, and we'll go for a walk. A walk!"

Since "walk" in no way sounded like "Oreo," Fred remained morose.

"You're going to love it, Fred," Nina said, but fifteen minutes later, when she'd changed into jeans and her old pink T-shirt and hooked his new leash to his new collar, it was clear that Fred was not going to love it.

Nina opened the door and tugged him forward, and he tugged back. "Come on, Fred." Nina tugged harder and Fred lurched a couple of steps closer to the door, still pulling backward. "You're going to like this. Trust me." She tugged still harder, and Fred's feet slid out from under him as his body bumped over the door frame and into the hall.

"Troubles?" somebody said from behind her and she turned to see a tall, gray-haired woman dressed in olive green cashmere running clothes. She was beautiful in the structure of her bones and the brightness of her eyes, but she was also intimidating. Nina was suddenly conscious of how baggy her own jeans were and how faded her T-shirt was.

And Fred was no help. Nina looked at him, still splayed on his stomach. "I was just taking my dog for a drag,'' she told the woman. "I'm hoping he'll get the hang of this before we hit the stairs.''

The woman laughed and held out her hand, and Nina wasn't intimidated anymore. "I'm Norma Lynn from upstairs."

Nina took her hand. "I'm Nina Askew. And this-" she dropped her hand and gazed down at Fred with disgust "-this is Fred."

"Hello, Fred," Norma said, and Fred got to his feet and walked the four steps he needed to be within smelling reach of Norma's Nikes.

"I've been neglecting him," Nina told Norma. "This is a guilt walk."

"It's not good to neglect males," Norma agreed. "They're such babies about it, and they sulk. It's why I'm never living with another one of them. No offense, Fred."

"I couldn't agree with you more," Nina said. "Except for Fred. All he needs is his ears scratched and some Oreos and he's happy." She looked at the morose-as-usual Fred. "Well, he's content."

"You could keep a lot of men content with that," Norma said. "Although it may take you more than that to keep Alex cheerful. Very physical young man, Alex."

Nina blushed and then kicked herself for blushing. "Alex and I are just friends."

Norma shook her head. "Too bad. He seemed very taken with you when he told me about you yesterday." She looked at Nina sharply. "An excellent young man, Alex. No bluster and a very good sense of humor. You could do a lot worse."

"He's ten years younger than I am," Nina blurted before she remembered that Norma had thirteen years on her Rich.

"Yes," Norma said. "Isn't that nice? He won't die and leave you a widow or run out of steam in bed while you're hitting your stride." She smiled at Nina, serene and lovely. "Don't let foolish assumptions about what's appropriate keep you from a good man. There are too few good men around to ignore one just because he's the perfect age for you." She patted Nina's arm. "But of course, it's your choice. I'm so glad we've met. You must come out running with me someday. Bring Fred."

At the sound of his name, Fred stood up again and whined a little.

"There, see?" Norma smiled down at Fred. "He wants to run."

"I've never seen Fred run," Nina said.

"Then that will be something else new for you." Norma turned to the stairs. "Broaden your horizons. They're the only ones you'll ever have, so make the suckers as wide as possible." And then, while Nina watched, Norma ran up the stairs, her quadriceps straining against her cashmere sweats. They were damn good quadriceps.

"Maybe if I had quadriceps like that," Nina told Fred. "And maybe if he was ten years older, maybe then I'd jump Alex. But with this body, no."

Fred sat down again.

"Come on, Fred," Nina said and dragged him toward the stairs. "We'll both run a couple of blocks. Then we'll have an Oreo. One Oreo."

At the magic word, Fred rose to his feet and clambered down the stairs under the delusion that he was heading toward cookies. Nina didn't care; at least they were moving toward a new experience.

After meeting Norma, she was pretty sure she was going to feel guilty if she didn't turn up with a new experience on a regular basis from now on.

Later that evening, Alex had an old experience.

"It's time you made a decision, son," his father blustered at him over the phone, and Alex tried to listen while he put on his socks with one hand and checked his watch. He was due to pick up Tricia for dinner in fifteen minutes, and he still didn't have a tie on, not to mention a jacket or shoes. He hated ties and jackets. He wasn't too crazy about shoes, either.

"Alex?"

"I'm listening," Alex said, "but it's pretty much too late now." He stood up and rifled through his drawer looking for a tie. "All the slots are filled. I couldn't-"

"That's what I called about," his father broke in. "We have an opening in cardiology. Young Lutin dropped out of the program. Went to Tahiti to paint. Tahiti! What kind of fool would give up an important career to paint in Tahiti?"

"Gauguin." Alex stared sightlessly into his top drawer, envying Lutin who would never have to discuss cardiology with his father again.

"What?" his father said, and Alex said, "Nothing."

"It's yours, son," his father went on. "All you have to do is take it."

Oh, hell. "Dad, it's not a good idea to give your son the only opening in the unit. People will notice that you're playing favorites."

"Nonsense. The whole damn hospital knows about the work you do in the ER. You can go anywhere. They know that."

I don't want to go anywhere, Alex thought. I like the ER, but his father rumbled on.

"It's time you built a life, Alex. Got married. Settled down. And a wife isn't going to put up with the ER as a career."

As if you'd know, Alex thought, and repressed the urge to point out that being a cardiologist hadn't done much for his father's three attempts at marital stability. "I'll think about it, Dad," he said. "But I've got to go now. I have a date."

"Debbie? Fine, fine girl. She'll make you a good wife, Alex. And a good mother for your children. Don't screw up this time."

Alex picked up a tie and sank back onto the bed. "I already did," he said as he threaded it one-handed around his neck. "Debbie and I decided we'd be happier if we weren't dating. I'm taking Tricia Webster to dinner."

As usual, his father was fast on the recovery. "The little blonde in the business office? Seems very responsible. And sweet. Make you a good wife. And a good mother for your children."

Alex shook his head. His father wasn't going to rest until Alex was a married cardiologist with offspring. At this point, he could introduce him to Fred and his father would say, "Seems very loyal. Make you a good wife. You can adopt."

Thoughts of Fred led to thoughts of Nina. Now, she would make a good wife. She was pretty and warm and kind and she kept Oreos and milk on hand and she had a great dog.

And a great body. The thought sprang to mind unbidden, and Alex stopped fighting with his tie and closed his eyes and thought of her, round and warm in her kitchen, laughing up at him with that soft pink mouth, and the memory fogged his mind and made his breath come quicker. He wanted to be taking Nina to dinner, not Tricia, but he knew better than to ask. She was used to older men, successful men like her ex-husband, the rich lawyer. She was used to big bucks and caviar, and he was med-school loans and Oreos.

Of course, if he became a cardiologist, he'd have big bucks and caviar.

His father's voice broke the thought. "Alex, are you listening to me?"

"Yeah," Alex said. "Believe it or not, I am." He must be losing his mind. He needed a better reason for becoming a cardiologist than trying to get a date. Then thoughts of Nina clouded his mind again, Nina sitting across her big oak table from him, her chin in her hand, shaking her head at him, arguing with him, leaning back and smiling lazily at him. He remembered how graceful her neck had been as it curved into the loose pajama top, and how he'd wanted to draw his finger down that curve and pop her pajama buttons, one by one…

There were worse reasons to become a cardiologist. "Alex?"

"Yeah, Dad. Let me think about this some more."

"Well, don't take too long. I can't hold on to this appointment forever."

"Right," Alex said, bemused with visions of holding on to a naked Nina. "I really am going to think about it."

Ninas phone rang at ten that night while she was struggling with the final chapters of the upper-class twit's memoir.

"Uh, Nina?" Alex's voice sounded harried. "Could you come down here? I need some help."

"Help?" Nina swallowed. Alex's voice made her first grow tense and then grow warm, which wasn't good. She shouldn't see him. She thought about telling him she was busy, but there was panic in his voice, and if she could help, she should be neighborly…

Five minutes later, Nina was in Alex's apartment, sitting on the couch and patting his weeping date, a tiny blonde with an enormous capacity for loud sobbing, who made Nina feel fat and sloppy in her jeans and pink T-shirt.

"Meet Tricia," Alex said, and Tricia wailed louder, dripping tears onto her flowered slip dress no matter how fast Alex passed her Kleenexes.

"What did you do to her?" Nina asked him, trying not to notice how great he looked in dress pants and a tailored shirt again, even with his shirtsleeves rolled up and his tie loose. Really, he cleaned up very nicely.

Alex glared at her. "I didn't do anything to her. I took her to dinner. I showed her a video.'' Nina narrowed her eyes and he added, "Young Frankenstein. Get your mind out of the gutter. Then I kissed her. That's it. I swear to God." He crossed his arms in front of him, looking disgusted with her and Tricia, and his forearms flexed, and Nina lost her train of thought. He had great arms. He had great everything.

And all of it was too young for her.

"He's never going to marry me," Tricia wailed.

"Marry you?" Nina blinked at Alex. "How long have you been dating?"

Alex checked his watch. "We're at the three-hour mark now."

"This is your first date?" Nina stopped patting Tricia. "I'm missing something here."

Tricia looked up at her, her face a sodden mask of misery under her riot of blond curls. "It's all my fault. I told him I wanted to sleep with him. And now he'll never marry me."

Nina raised an eyebrow at Tricia, trying to ignore the spurt of dislike she felt for her. "Gee, I'd think that'd be a good line to take with him."

Tricia shook her head, snuffling. "He said no. He said no!"

Irrationally cheered, Nina looked at Alex who looked as if he wished he were dead. "Tricia enjoyed the wine at dinner," he said in a pathetic attempt at tact.

"And now he thinks I'm a drunk, too," Tricia wailed.

"Well," Nina said, patting faster as she tried to think of a way to convince Tricia to stop crying.

"And I really want to marry a doctor," Tricia finished quietly.

Nina stopped patting again and glared at her. How could anybody look at Alex and just see his medical degree? Even aside from the fact that he was gorgeous, he was also sweet and funny and… Shut up, she told herself. Don't do this to yourself. She stood up. "Well, I think it's time we all called it a night. Alex is going to take you home now. Go get the car, Alex."

"We'll all go," Alex said. "Fred needs the fresh air."

"Who's Fred?" Tricia said. "Is he a doctor?"

Half an hour later, with Tricia deposited at her door, Nina was still fuming. "I can't believe she was going out with you because she wants to marry a doctor."

Alex grinned at her, relaxed behind the wheel now that Tricia was just a soggy memory. "Well, face it-the women I date are not going out with me because of the fancy places I can take them to. I'm an ER specialist with about ten years of loans to pay off. I'm poor. So they plan for the future."

Nina frowned at him, trying not to appreciate the careless way his fingers draped over the wheel, and the way his long body lounged in the seat. Carelessly confident, that was Alex. Not a focused bone in his body. Don't think about his body. She tried to find her place in the conversation. "Women should be going out with you because you're terrific."

"Thank you," Alex said. "I'll tell them you said so."

In the back seat, his head hanging out the window, Fred snorted the wind out of his nose.

"Who asked you?" Alex said to him.

"I can't believe she'd be so mercenary," Nina fumed on, grateful to have something to distract her.

"Oh, come on," Alex said. "Why'd you marry Guy the Stiff? Because he was a rich lawyer, right?"

"No, because he was the first man I ever slept with," Nina said. "I was raised strict."

Alex was silent for a moment. "So, how many guys have you slept with?"

"One. Guy." Nina laughed shortly, embarrassed by her lack of an interesting past.

"Okay, smartass, how many men have you slept with?"

"I told you," Nina said. "One. Guy. I met him in college and slept with him, and as far as I was concerned, that was it."

Alex turned to stare at her in the dim light of the front seat. "You're kidding."

"No." Nina frowned at his incredulity. He probably thought she was dull and frumpy. Well, the hell with him. So she didn't have much of a past. That didn't mean she wasn't going to have a terrific future. Don't make assumptions, Norma had said. Norma was right. She didn't need to give up men entirely; she just had to give up marrying them. "I was backward then, but I'm not anymore," she said him and stuck her chin out. "I'm going to have an affair." It was a brand-new idea, but with Alex beside her, it sounded like a good one.

Alex didn't look impressed. Or happy, for that matter.

"With whom?"

"I have no idea." Nina leaned her head back as the cool night air rushed in her window. She half closed her eyes and tried to look mature and depraved. "I'm still looking."

Alex grinned at her. "Well, put me on the shortlist."

Hello. Nina swallowed. He was kidding. If she took him seriously and made a pass at him, he'd be embarrassed. Look at how he'd been with Tricia. "Very funny," she said and changed the subject.

"I can't believe Tricia was dumb enough to think that offering to sleep with you would turn you off."

"No, she was right about that." Alex turned the car into the alley behind the apartment house and backed it into his parking space.

"What?" Nina stared at him, disbelieving.

"I wouldn't want somebody who would sleep with me on the first date." Alex turned off the ignition. "I have some standards."

"Oh." Nina tried to digest this. It was a damn good thing she'd decided not to make a pass at him. Not only would he have thought she was too old, he'd have thought she was so easy. She regrouped.

"Well, that's good. I suppose it shows moral fiber on your part that you turned her down."

"I turned her down because she was drunk," Alex corrected her. "If she'd been sober, I'd have slept with her."

"But you just said-"

"I wouldn't have asked her out again, but I would have slept with her." Nina glared at him and he shrugged. "Hey, I did not seduce her. In fact, I was trying to sober her up. I have cups of coffee on my table upstairs to prove it. But if she's going to make an offer while of sound mind, I'm going to take her up on it, or I wouldn't be of sound mind."

"Did you ever think of showing some moral restraint?" she asked him icily.

"No," Alex said. "I'm male."

He certainly was. That was the problem. She was sitting next to him in a dark car, and he was the most masculine male she'd been with for a long time. Forever, actually. And she should be angry with him for saying he would have slept with Tricia if she'd been sober, but it was hard to be angry and turned on at the same time, and the fact was, whenever he came around, she got a nice little buzz going that didn't fade until he was long gone.

This was bad.

Get out of this car, Nina told herself and opened the door. "I'm going to let the next one cry all over you." She climbed out of the car and opened the back door for Fred. "Stay away from him, Fred. He's a bad influence on you."

Fred gathered himself together and leaped for the ground, staggering a little on impact.

"Hey, wait a minute," Alex said to Nina, but she was already leading Fred through the gate into the backyard, and there was no way she was going to stop and continue the conversation.

The last thing she needed to do was discuss sex with Alex Moore.

What do you do when a woman you want shows no interest in you?" Alex asked Max the next day in the hospital cafeteria.

Max looked at him with contempt over his eggs and hash browns. "That never happens."

Alex pushed his own plate away. "I don't think I'm… sophisticated enough for this woman. I think she's used to rich, older guys. I think she thinks I'm a kid."

Max shoved his fork into his breakfast. "You been wearing that beanie with the propeller again?"

Alex frowned at him. "I'm serious, Max."

Max raised an eyebrow, distracted from his food for a moment. "You? Serious about a woman?"

Alex thought about it. "I don't know. Probably not. I'm definitely serious about getting her into bed."

Max nodded and went back to his eggs. "That's more like it."

Alex shook his head. "But it's not going to happen."

Max shook his head and spoke around bites of egg and potato. "You don't know that. Spend some time with her. Charm her socks off. Be debonair."

"Oh, yeah." Alex leaned back. "Debonair. That's the real me."

Max shrugged. "Well, you're the one who said she thought the real you was a Boy Scout."

Alex stared blankly across the crowded cafeteria, thinking about Nina and how Nina had looked in the dark front seat of his car, how Nina's perfume had come to him faint and erotic in the dimness, how Nina's skin had gleamed when they'd passed a streetlight. She'd been so warm and so close…

"The thing about Nina," he told Max when he'd come back to earth, "is that when I'm with her, I forget everything but her, so I can't pretend to be somebody else. The only person I can be with Nina is me."

Max froze, his fork poised over his plate. "Don't talk like that. It sounds serious."

"It's not serious," Alex said. "She's just my neighbor. It's no big deal."

"Right." Max pointed his fork at him. "You be careful, boy. Stay away from her."

"Right," Alex said, wondering if Nina liked videos and what excuse he could use to invite himself up to share her VCR.

In the next two weeks, Nina finished editing the twit's memoirs and two books of literary criticism, gave Charity a contract for a book described as "a feminist memoir" and spent six amazingly pleasant and comfortable nights watching old movies with Alex on her TV.

"You get better reception than I do," Alex had told her the first night. He'd knocked on her door and handed her a gallon of skim milk and a large package of Oreos. "You don't mind, do you?"

And she'd said no because she didn't mind at all. In fact, she was flat out delighted even though she'd warned herself not to be. There was something warm and right about Alex sitting on her floor, his back propped up against her couch, Fred draped over his lap thinking intense Oreo thoughts, while people screamed and laughed and cried on the screen in front of them. She'd taken to curling up on the couch behind them, watching the movies over Alex's shoulder, absentmindedly reaching for the cookies or pretzels in his lap while she rediscovered old movies she'd loved like Real Genius and Avanti and American Dreamer.

And sometimes when the movie was over, they just talked, first about the movie and then about other things.

Alex talked about the ER and his family, how much he loved his work and the good times he had with his brother, Max, and Nina told him about the troubles at her work, Jessica and the twit's memoirs and Charity and her book.

Alex had been incredulous when he'd first heard of the project. "She's writing a book about her dates?"

"Charity doesn't have dates," Nina told him, reaching over his shoulder for pretzels, trying not to inhale the scent of his soap on his skin. "She has disasters with cab fare. Like this guy Carlton, the grad student she dated when she was a sophomore. He was really anal retentive about relationships. Charity said even sex had to be by the book.''

"What book?" Alex straightened with interest. "There's a book?"

"She calls that chapter 'Sex: The Cliff Notes.'" Nina wanted to reach out and pull him back against the couch, closer to her. Dumb idea. "Jessica's going to go cardiac when she reads the chapter titles."

Alex collapsed back against the couch. "Don't say 'cardiac.'"

"Then there's chapter five," Nina went on, happy again now that he was close. "Wilson. He had an impotence problem."

Alex shook his head. "Don't say 'impotence.'"

Nina reached for another pretzel. "She called that chapter 'Try Hard and Try Harder.'"

"Ouch." Alex winced. "Your friend has a mean streak."

Nina frowned, the pretzel still in her hand. Charity's chapters were a little harsh. In fact, some of them were downright bitter, but they were funny and sexy, so she'd told Charity that it might be a good idea to lighten things up as the book went along so the reader got the feeling that Jane was making progress and that things were getting better for her. Charity had seemed doubtful, so Nina hadn't pressed the point. The last thing an author needed to hear while she was writing her first draft was criticism.

"I'm sure she'll lighten up in the rewrite," she told Alex. "And chapter six is pretty funny. It's about Ron, this traveling salesman she dated."

Alex closed his eyes. "Let me guess. He slept around."

Nina nodded. "Around forty-eight states. She's calling his chapter 'Mobile Dick.' We're going to have to change that one."

"I can't wait to meet Charity," Alex said. "She sounds like a real sweet woman."

Jessica was interested in Charity, too.

"So tell me about Charity's book," she said to Nina one day in June over lunch. Jessica, as always, looked beige and polished and upper-class. She was the only woman Nina had ever met who had naturally beige hair. They were in Jessica's equally beige office, eating yogurt and kiwi and discussing the changes that would have to be made to the twit's memoir, when Nina had remarked that at least the feminist memoir Charity was working on wouldn't be boring. Jessica had perked right up. One of the many good things about Jessica was that she wasn't elitist or prudish. It didn't bother her in the slightest that Charity ran a boutique instead of a college English department or that she was writing about her sex life.

"It's a history of the changing roles of women," Nina had told her when she'd gone to contract on the book. "An anecdotal, oral history of the sexual revolution."

"Wonderful," Jessica had said and okayed it without reading the proposal. "I trust you," she'd told Nina, and Nina had felt a stab of guilt even though what she was doing was best for Jessica and Howard Press.

"Charity's book?" Nina said now. "She's more than half finished. Seven chapters on the varying expectations of sexual roles in high school in the seventies and college and young adulthood in the eighties. It's fascinating. Chapter seven is on her first working experience."

Jessica raised a plucked beige eyebrow. "Harassment?"

Nina frowned. "Sort of. Her boss seduced her, and then she found out he was a sexual compulsive."

Jessica's eyes widened. "Fascinating. Horrible, but fascinating."

"Right," Nina said, omitting to tell her that Charity called this chapter "He Was On Fire When I Lay Down On Him."

"It wasn't really harassment," Charity had told Nina. "Presley just never thought about anything else. He probably had sex with his desk drawer when I wasn't around. I finally had to get another job just so I could get some sleep."

"It's going to be an interesting book," she promised Jessica. "A real money-maker."

"That's not what Howard Press is about," Jessica said, but Nina could see the hope flare in her eyes. Jessica needed a money-maker soon, which meant Nina did, too, if she wanted to keep her job.

"It's more than just a money-maker," she reassured Jessica. "It'll make women everywhere rethink their sex lives."

It was certainly making Nina rethink hers. Whatever other problems Charity's book had, her sex scenes were dynamite. As Nina worked her way through Charity's explicit, erotic chapters, the year she'd been celibate began to feel like ten. And Alex wasn't helping things any. She was dreaming about him now, lovely sexy dreams of his hands and his mouth and his wonderful, long body. She'd seen that body in action the night before, when he'd come by and coaxed her out to go jogging after work. Fred had trotted along between them, disgusted, while they'd laughed and she'd watched Alex move. She thought longingly of the days when she'd lusted after Matthew Perry, safe on the other side of the television screen. Alex was just one flight down, entirely too real, entirely too young.

Not dating was not working. She was going to have to do something.

Two weeks later, after a dozen more frustrating nights with Alex and Ted Turner's video library and at least that many frustrating jogs in the park, she did something.

"I have to start dating," Nina told Charity. She'd gone downtown on her lunch hour to the boutique that Charity managed, and there, in the middle of a lot of red suede, purple spandex and black lace, she came clean. "I'm interested in Alex," she said as they leaned against a display case full of silver chains. "Really interested. But it's just because he's the only man I see." Charity opened her mouth, and Nina hurried to cut her off. "And Alex isn't my only problem. Guy is calling again. He wants to have lunch and dinner and sex."

"He asked you on the phone to have sex?" Charity said, intrigued.

"No, but it was in his voice," Nina said. "And when I said I wasn't interested, he pointed out that he knew I wasn't dating because the only other man I ever talked about when he called was the kid downstairs. I need to get out more, rev up my image, see some other men. Help me."

Charity frowned at her. "You want me to fix you up on a date."

"No." Nina sat down on one of the little black-enameled chairs that dotted Charity's domain, depressed. "I have a date."

Charity dropped into the chair beside her. "You're kidding."

Nina gave her an exasperated glare. "No. Is it so impossible that I'd have a date?"

"Yes," Charity said. "I thought there for a while you were trying to grow your virginity back. Who is this guy?"

"His name is Michael Thackery," Nina told her. "I edited his memoirs, which are the dullest thing I've ever read, and he came in to the office today to talk about the line edit and asked me to dinner. And I thought, well, it's a start. But now I need some help."

"Wait a minute." A grin spread across Charity's face. "This is the twit we're talking about, right?"

Nina glared at her. "Charity, this isn't funny. I need help."

"Right. Sure." Charity stood up. "Well, first of all, you have to stop wearing those blah colors. Gray and black do not suit you." She moved around the shop, gathering up red lace and redder cashmere before she came back to Nina. "Here, go try these on."

Nina looked doubtfully at the clothing in her hands. At least there was no red feather boa. "What is this stuff?"

"Red cashmere scoop-necked sweater," Charity said. "Red lace panties. Red lace Incredibra."

Nina fished the bra out of the pile draped over her arm. "This thing is an Incredibra?" The bra dangled from her hand, round and shapely without her. It practically had cleavage without her. "I've heard about them, but I've never seen one."

"Yeah. It sort of pushes everything together and then shoves it up." Charity shook her head. "I tried one on once, but since I'm a C-cup to begin with, it just made me look like I had a very large double chin with a cleft in it. My customers who are B-cups swear by it."

Nina glanced down at her own B-cups. "Okay, I'll take it."

Charity frowned at her. "Don't you want to try it on?"

Nina shook her head. "I'm on my lunch hour. I'll just trust you."

Charity shrugged. "Well, bring back what doesn't look right, and we'll try something else."

That afternoon after work, Nina tried on the clothes, while Fred sat bored at her feet, waiting for his walk. The Incredibra lived up to its name, incredibly bright red and incredibly structured so that her breasts moved up nearer her chin than she thought possible, creating cleavage that was clearly impossible. Combined with the red cashmere sweater, the outfit made Nina look like a very good time. I wonder what Alex would think of this, she thought, and then stamped on the thought. Alex was never going to see her red-cashmered cleavage.

On the other hand, Michael was.

She studied herself in the mirror, not sure she wanted red-cashmered cleavage with Michael. Michael looked as though he hadn't had a sexual thought in his life, but maybe he came alive at night. Maybe incredible breasts were not a good move in Michael's case. Maybe nondescript was better for a first date. No sense promising what she had no intention of delivering.

She stripped off the sweater and the Incredibra, dropping them both on the bed, and started for her dresser to get a regular underwire. Fred put his paws on the bed, grabbed the bra and trotted to the door, and Nina ran after him and grabbed it back.

"Just like a guy," Nina said to him and tossed the bra farther up on the bed as she went to change.

The regular underwire was much better, and the blue sweater she put over it was pretty without being a come-on, and her black skirt was knee-length, no slit. The outfit made her look attractive and responsible. It in no way said, "Yo, come jump my bones," which was the message Charity said a good date outfit should send.

The last thing Nina needed was a good date outfit that sent messages. The Incredibra was definitely going back…

Nina looked at the bed. The Incredibra was gone.

"Fred!" She took a quick lap through the apartment- kitchen, bathroom, living room-and stopped in front of the open window. Fred had found his own way of paying her back for putting off his walk. "You're in big trouble, Fred," she said and climbed out the window.

She spotted him down beside the Dumpster, the bright red bra in his mouth. "Fred!" she yelled again, and he ducked behind the Dumpster. "You're dead meat, Fred," Nina told him as she ran down the fire escape. "You're yesterday's news, boy."

She trapped him behind the Dumpster, so he crawled farther behind it, into the cavern made by the open lid against the brick wall. She got down on her hands and knees and peered into the cave and saw Fred sitting there, morose as ever, her Incredibra at his feet.

"Give me that," she said to him. "Right now." She crawled a little way under the lid, and Fred lowered his head and growled at her.

Nina stopped. "You're growling at me? You're growling at me?"

"Let me guess-De Niro," Alex said from behind her, and she straightened in surprise and banged her head on the Dumpster lid.

"You're going back to the pound," she told Fred as she backed out, rubbing her head.

"Is your head all right?" Alex said when she was standing. "Let me see." His hand was firm against her cheek, tilting her head down so that all she could see was the clean white T-shirt stretched across his broad chest. It was an extremely good chest, but she'd already been staring at it with lust for five weeks, so she closed her eyes to keep her concentration and to keep from grabbing him. He explored the incipient bump on the back of her head, and she drew a deep breath as his fingers moved through her hair and sent inappropriate chills down her spine. If she leaned forward another inch, she could lick his neck.

That would be bad.

Alex tilted her head back up to him. "The bump's not too bad. We can still go jogging." He let go of her chin and rested his hand on her shoulder. "I saw you streak past my window. Why are you down here braining yourself on a Dumpster?"

"Fred," Nina said, trying hard not to visibly enjoy his hand on her. "He's going through a Stage. It's the Terrible Twos. Or in his case, the Terrible Fourteens."

Alex let go of her and stooped down on his haunches to peer behind the Dumpster. "Fred? What's wrong with you? Get out here."

Fred came trotting out and dropped the bra at Alex's feet.

"The hell with the pound," Nina told Fred as she snatched for the bra. "I'm going to kill you right here."

Alex was too quick for her. He stood, holding the bra by one end, and squinted to read the tag. "The Incredibra." He raised an eyebrow at Nina. "I've heard of these, but I've never seen one."

"Well, now you have." Nina made another grab for it, but he moved it out of her reach again.

"I mean, I've never seen one on an actual woman," he explained. "In the flesh. It's probably something I should experience. For my professional advancement." He smiled at her encouragingly, and it took all of Nina's self-control not to smile back and leap on him.

He was a rat. He was waving her bra around in public. He was gorgeous and she wanted him.

"You want me to model my underwear for you for your professional advancement," Nina said, trying not to think about it.

"It's all right." Alex stopped smiling and made a pathetic effort to look serious and adult. "I'm a doctor."

"I'm going to take you back to the pound with Fred," she told him. "You're both completely untrainable." Then she snatched the bra out of his hand and went back up the fire escape before he could talk her into taking off her clothes right there in the courtyard.

She was going to have to do something about the effect he was having on her. She was going to have to think of something later, when she was calmer. Like when she was with Michael. She'd definitely be calmer then.

"You're never going to see an Oreo again," she told Fred when he followed her back through the window. "Never."