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"You think you're so different from any other guy trying to get into my pants?" Sam yelled.
"G.o.d, I should have known you weren't for real! I should have known never to trust you!"
"But nothing happened!" Danny protested.
Now he was standing, too. "After you left Orlando, I started putting some of the pieces together about you. And you know what I figured out?
You are totally full of it, Sam Bridges. You are all hot air."
"I am not!" Sam said furiously, her face turning red.
"You are!" Danny insisted, grabbing her arm.
"You know the game and you've got the moves, but it's all a front. I bet you're no more experienced than I am. In love, or in anything else!"
Sam's heart thudded in her chest. "Oh yeah?"
she asked with bravado.
"Yeah," Danny echoed softly.
An impa.s.se.
"Well," Danny said finally. "Am I right?"
Sam felt tears quicken in her eyes. "I-"
"That's what I thought," Danny said softly, gently putting his arms around her.
"If you tell anyone, you're dead meat," Sam sniffled into his shoulder. "Your secret is safe with me," Danny said.
When the knock came, Emma opened the suite door. No matter how often she saw Kurt, the sight of him always gave her a tingle. This evening, he looked especially handsome in the jacket and tie he had put on for their dinner date.
"Hiya, beautiful," Kurt said, stepping over the threshold to give her a quick, tantalizing kiss.
"You look like every man's idea of a dream date."
Emma beamed with pleasure at the compli- ment. She was so thankful she'd thought to include one romantic evening dress in her packing- a white silk minis.h.i.+ft whose simplicity belied its thousand-dollar price tag. Delicate bead work around the neck and cuffs was echoed in a pattern on her simple white kid-leather pumps.
Now she led Kurt into the suite, feeling s.e.xy and feminine as the short skirt swished against her thighs.
"Would monsieur care for a gla.s.s of wine before dinner?" she asked over her shoulder, already making her way to the gla.s.s she was drinking herself. She'd had room service deliver a bottle of Pouilly-Fuisse so she could offer Kurt a drink before they went to dinner.
Something in Kurt's beautiful blue eyes changed.
He gave her a studied look before saying, "Why don't we just go down to the restaurant?"
Oh, no, I've already managed to insult him, Emma thought. Kurt had made it clear that he wished to pay for the entire evening, and she supposed he saw the Pouilly-Fuiss6 as something she had bought because he couldn't afford it.
"Good idea," Emma replied, finis.h.i.+ng off the last of her wine. Better just get out of here and on with the evening's plans, she thought.
They were seated by the maitre d' at one of the best tables in the inn's dining room, in a corner with windows on both sides offering views of the sh.o.r.eline. Emma ordered veal Marsala, Kurt treated himself to a filet mignon, and they each had a gla.s.s of wine to complement their meals.
"I really missed you, Emma," Kurt told her.
After dinner, he asked Emma if she'd like a cup of coffee.
"To be honest, I'd rather have a gla.s.s of champagne," she replied. She leaned closer and let the love s.h.i.+ne in her eyes. "I feel like cele- brating."
She'd hoped Kurt would see how much she appreciated his splurge for their dinner date, but his expression darkened ominously.
"Emma, I don't know how to say this except to just come right out with it," Kurt said solemnly.
"It . . . well, it seems like you're drinking a lot."
Emma felt as though she'd been slapped.
"Really, Kurt," she managed tartly, "you make it sound like I've been tossing back shots of whiskey or something."
"Emma, tonight is Tuesday. You got here Sat.u.r.day, and every night since then, I've had to drive, because you weren't in any shape to get behind the wheel!"
"Well, if I'd known you minded driving-" "I should add that it hasn't been very romantic having you fall asleep on my couch every night,"
Kurt continued. "I'm getting a little tired of throwing a blanket over you and knowing I'll have to deal with your headaches in the morn- ing." "I ... it's only wine," Emma protested feeb- ly.
"It's alcohol," Kurt said.
Something snapped in Emma. "Oh, please don't go getting self-righteous on me now!" she said.
"I'm not!" Kurt protested.
"Yes, you are," Emma said. "Why do you get to be the moral arbiter? You always do this!"
Kurt looked confused. "Hey, Em, come on, I don'W "You want to give me a sermon because I have an occasional gla.s.s of wine, but I bet if I said one word you'd have me in bed so fast I wouldn't know what hit me."
"Yes, I want to go to bed with you," Kurt said in a low, even voice. "That hasn't changed. But we've already agreed to take it slow. I'm not pus.h.i.+ng for s.e.x! I'd just like to be able to kiss you and . . . and be with you without you falling asleep because you've been drinking!"
"Well, thank you very much," Emma said frostily.
"That's a delightful picture you've painted of me. But let me ask you this. If we've agreed to go slow, who is supposed to be the one putting on the brakes?"
Kurt just stared at her.
"Me, that's who," Emma said, answering her own question. She stood and dropped her napkin onto the table. "Ill be sleeping in my own room tonight. Thank you for a most enlightening evening."
With that, she turned and swept out of the dining room, leaving Kurt with his head in his hands.
It was Thursday before Carrie, Emma, and Sam managed a few hours together by them- selves to have lunch and plan their party. They chose to meet at Crumpets, a new little tearoom that had just opened in preparation for the sum- mer season.
After they'd ordered, Sam looked across the table at her two friends.
"Let's get right into the good stuff," she said mischievously. "I can't believe we've seen so little of each other. I've been going through with- drawal. Who's got a really hot story to tell?"
Neither Emma nor Carrie spoke immediately.
"No takers?" Sam asked innocently. "Well, then," she continued, "how about me?"
Emma and Carrie looked surprised.
"You mean you and Pres?" Emma asked.
"Not Pres," Sam said, wiggling her eyebrows.
"It's Danny!" Carrie broke in. "I knew it would be Danny eventually! All right!" she cheered.
"You mean you're ..." Emma left the ques- tion unfinished.
- 199.
"Yes!" Sam yelled. "I mean we're-"
"You slept with him?" Emma asked with a sharp intake of breath. Was she the only one who thought taking things slow was important? It just didn't seem like it would be the same unless she was sure she was in love.
"Wrong," Sam said. "Not yet. Not much of that stuff yet at all, actually," she admitted. "But he's a darned good kisser and we've agreed to, um, look at each other with l.u.s.t."
"Good place to start!" Carrie agreed with a laugh.
"So how is Pres taking this?" Emma asked as the waitress brought them their chef's salads.
"Actually, I haven't seen him around much."
"What's to take?" Sam asked with a shrug, pouring tons of thousand-island dressing on her salad. "Pres and I like to flirt with each other- it's never really been more than that. If you'll remember, the only reason we went out in the first place was to keep up with you lovebirds last summer."
"But you know what I don't understand?" Emma asked, nibbling daintily on a croissant. "We've asked you over and over about Danny, and you've always said you two were just friends."
Sam rolled her eyes. "Danny has this stupid idea that it's possible to be friends and be romantic at the same time. Personally, I think he's crazy,"
she said, reaching for her fork. "But you know me, the last of the great risk-takers."
"So how's the experiment going so far?" Carrie asked, sipping her water.
"I gotta tell you," Sam said with a huge grin, "I can't believe we waited this long to get to the hot part!"
"Before long I really will be the only virgin in the crowd," Emma said with a laugh.
"I'm not in any hurry," Sam informed them coolly.
Emma and Carrie stared at her.
"Excuse me, but is this the same Sam Bridges who was ready to do it with any good-looking stranger who caught her eye?" said Emma.
"That was then, this is now," Sam said dismiss- ively.
"What's Danny have to say about that?" asked Carrie.
"It's okay w*th him," said Sam. She wasn't about to reveal his confession-that was just between the two of them.
She did feel almost ready to reveal something about herself, though. Sam had thought long and hard about it the night before. Danny was right.
Lying to her best Mends sucked. It was time to tell them she was no longer working at Disney World. But before she could open her mouth again, Carrie had focused on Emma.
"So are things blissful with you and Kurt?"
Carrie asked.
"It's okay," Emma said quietly.
"Just okay?" Carrie prodded.
"We had a fight a couple nights ago, and I'm giving him some s.p.a.ce."
Remembering Emma tottering out the door on Sunday, Sam wondered if the fight had been about her drinking.
"So what'd you fight about?" Sam ventured, reaching for another roll.
"It was just ridiculous," Emma sighed. She put down her fork and stared at her salad bowl. "He actually claimed I've been drinking too much wine lately."
Neither Carrie nor Sam said a word.
"I think what's really happening is that he isn't getting enough . . . attention from me. I think he wants me to sleep with him, and I'm just not ready for that."
"Well, Emma," Carrie said carefully, "I have noticed that you're drinking more than you used to."
"I have more problems than I used to," Emma snapped. She badly wanted to order a gla.s.s of wine right at that very moment, but willed herself not to, It would only add fuel to the fire.
"This salad was great," Sam said, forking up the last lettuce leaves, "but I'm still hungry." She grabbed the dessert menu and perused it. "So, Carrie, you must be the one with the hot inside info. What's going on with Billy?"
"He's been seeing someone else," Carrie said simply.
"Billy?" Sam asked in shock. "And he didn't even tell you?"
"He says he isn't sleeping with her," Carrie allowed, "and I believe him. I shut him out for a couple of days, and went off to shoot pictures, but he's been staying with me again, and it's been . . .
almost perfect."
"Who is this girl?" asked Emma. "Does he intend to keep seeing her?"
"She actually seemed pretty cool," admitted Carrie. "I can see why he'd be attracted to her.