Gwen bounced into the room. âAlec, look!â
Alecâs mouth went dry. He swallowed, or tried to. âYou look tastyâ¦.â He trailed off with a gesture. âI mean, tasteful.â
âWell, tasteful wasnât quite the look I was going for, but with this V-neck, I figured the âWonder Braâ would be overkill.â Gwen pushed her arms together and manufactured an impressive cleavage. âI donât knowâwhat do you think? To cleave, or not to cleave?â
Think? She expected him to think? âUhhhâ¦â
âYeah, youâre right.â She released her breasts and gestured to her skirt. âSo how about the skirt?â
With difficulty, Alec transferred his gaze to the black skirt she was wearing. It was just a skirt, not particularly short or tightâ¦except that it did cling ever so nicely. He peered closer. Was it see-through, or was he just imagining her legs? The more he stared, the better it looked. The better she looked.
He was in such trouble.
Dear Reader,
Secret man-magnets? Why not? You and I both know theyâre out there. Some women have themâand some women donât. That can be the only possible explanation why there are so many fabulousâyet datelessâwomen out there. Not that the dating women arenât fabulous, too, but this book wasnât written for them. No, this book is for the single womanâa woman like Gwen, who comes into possession of a skirt that brings men to their kneesâ¦and discovers she canât fit into it! But her mother canâ¦. So, she pretends it doesnât matter because sheâs given up on men, even though sheâs awfully tempted by the perfect man whoâd only need the slightest nudge to notice her. And wouldnât the skirt come in handy? Only, her motherâs already wearing itâ¦and attracting all the men! Donât you hate when that happens?
Whether youâre dating or not, I hope you enjoy the further adventures of the SINGLE IN THE CITY women you first met in Cara Summerâs Moonstruck in Manhattan. And donât miss the skirtâs next challenge in Kristin Gabrielâs Seduced in Seattle, available next month.
Enjoy,
Heather MacAllister
P.S. Stop by www.HeatherMacAllister.com for more SINGLE IN THE CITY news!
âTHAT SAPPY LOOK is back on your face.â Gwen Kempner spoke through her teeth in order to maintain her bridesmaidâs smileâfake, but definitely not sappy. Itâs not that she wasnât happy for the bride; itâs that her happiness was grounded in a thorough knowledge of male-female relationships.
Unsuccessful ones, as it happened. Therefore, she felt no mawkish sentimentality when it came to weddings and happily ever afters. Or even happily ever afters without weddings.
Kate, her best friend and fellow bridesmaid, sighed dreamily. âJust look at her, Gwen.â
Gwen dutifully looked toward Chelsea, her other best friend, who had an equally sappy look on her face as she gazed adoringly at Zach, her new husband. Gwen decided she could spot Chelsea a sappy look or twoâafter all, she was the bride.
âShe looks so beautiful,â Kate cooed.
Oh, no. Kate was going over to the dark side. Gwen shot her a sharp look.
âNow, Kate, weâve talked about this. Brides look that way because they develop a special immunity to reality. They have to in order to justify the hideous cost of a dress theyâll only wear once. It wears off after they pay the âheirloomingâ bill from the dry cleaners.â
âBut she looks so happy, Gwen. Maybeââ
âBe strong and repeat after me⦠I do not need a man to be happy.â
âI donât knowâdid you check out the best man?â
âOf course I did. Then I imagined making beer runs for the best man and all his ex-jock friends who spend every weekend during football season reliving past glories in front of a big-screen TV heâs squeezed into my living roomâand I get over it.â
âYou miss the big-screen TV. Admit it.â
Kate was referring to Gwenâs last serious relationship in which sheâd had to move out of her apartment in order to break up because her ex refused to move his TV, exercise equipment and stereo. Sheâd even abandoned her couch, which had sustained severe nacho cheese damage. Since sheâd moved out on a Super Bowl Sunday he hadnât noticed until the next day.
Kate clutched her arm. âLook! Sheâs going to throw the bouquet!â
âThanks for the warning.â Gwen edged backward into the crowd of poor, deluded females who surrounded them.
âOh, no, you donât!â Kate pulled her back to the front.
Gwen stumbled forward at the precise moment Chelsea threw the bouquet. Kate, the traitor, dropped her arm to grab for it, and Gwen fell to her knees.
The bouquet sailed over her head. There was a squeal followed by a very unladylike scuffle.
Gwen picked herself up in time to meet Chelseaâs eyes.
And froze. In her hands, Chelsea held something far more deadly than a mere bridal bouquet.