OPERATION BABE-MAGNET / OPERATION BEAUTY

by Kristin Gabriel

  "Who?" Philomena asked, still looking a little flustered.

  "Your cousin. Sam." Lauren leaned back in her chair. "How old is he?"

  "Twenty-seven."

  "What does he do?"

  "He works for the Kane Corporation. In the creative development department."

  Lauren heard the note of pride in her voice. "That sounds fascinating."

  "His latest project was as the creative director of the millennium version of Chameleon."

  "Wow. That's impressive. I love that game."

  "I'm starting to grow rather fond of it myself."

  Lauren looked down at the table, tracing the cracks in the veneer with one finger. "So do you think he might be interested?"

  "Interested?" Philomena echoed, pulling a bag of chips out of the sack.

  "In me," she clarified. "I mean, unless he's already involved with someone."

  "No," Philomena replied abruptly, then cleared her throat. "He's not involved at all."

  Lauren looked up at her new roommate, wondering if it bothered her to discuss romance so soon after her divorce. Philomena seemed a little ill at ease. "So he is available?"

  The older woman slowly turned to face her. "There's something you should know about Sam," she began slowly. "He's a nice guy, but he dates a lot of women. The word commitment isn't in his vocabulary."

  "You mean he's a playboy?"

  "Well, let me put it this way. The T in Sam's middle name stands for Tenacious. And he's done a very good job of tenaciously holding on to his bachelorhood."

  "I see."

  Philomena cleared her throat, then turned back to the counter, picking up a box of rice and slitting open the top. "Time to make dinner. I'm starving."

  But Lauren wasn't ready to change the subject. She'd waited two long years to meet a man who could stir the feelings inside of her that she'd feared were dead. And she wasn't about to let him go so easily.

  Sam clenched his jaw, as he searched the cupboards for a bowl for the rice, wondering how he'd ever let himself get into this mess. He hated to disappoint Lauren. Hell, he hated to disappoint himself. It would be sheer torture to live with her every day for the next four weeks and not act on his attraction to her. Especially when he knew it was mutual. That she might be picturing him naked right at this moment.

  "Philomena?"

  He turned. "Yes?"

  Lauren took a deep breath. "Would you call your cousin for me?"

  He frowned. "What for?"

  "To fix us up on a date. I think he might be the one."

  "The one?" he echoed, still a little confused. Hadn't he just told her Sam was a playboy?

  She nodded. "The perfect man to help me fulfill my New Year's resolution."

  Sam dropped the box of rice on the floor sending the little brown kernels flying out in all directions over the green linoleum. "You mean…"

  She gave a resolute nod.

  "That's right. He's the first man I've been attracted to in a very long time. And I'm determined to get over this ridiculous fear of mine. Maybe a playboy is the perfect man to help me do that."

  All his previous arguments withered under the heat of his desire for her. Lauren McBride wanted him—no strings attached. Could a man ask for anything more?

  The telephone rang, breaking through the fantasy filling his mind. A fantasy that now had every chance of coming true. He reached out to the wall phone next to him and picked up the receiver, grateful for a chance to think. "Hello?"

  "Hey, is this Philomena?"

  Sam recognized the grating male voice on the other end of the line. "Chuck?"

  "That's right. Is my girl there?"

  He looked over toward Lauren, who vehemently shook her head. "Sorry, Chuck, she's unavailable at the moment."

  "Darn. Could you give her a message for me?"

  "Sure."

  "Tell her that I've got reservations at the best steakhouse in town for next Saturday night. I'll pick her up at seven."

  Sam didn't give himself time for second thoughts. Fate had obviously opened the door and he wasn't about to slam it closed. "Sorry, Chuck, I'm afraid she already has a date."

  When he hung up the phone, he saw Lauren staring at him, her eyes wide. "Philomena, does that mean what I think it means?"

  He nodded, anticipation awakening every nerve in his body. "I'll call Sam and set it up."

  She smiled, then got up to grab a broom and sweep up the rice. "I hope he's free."

  "I have a feeling he will be."

  Later that night, Sam stood in his tiny bedroom and stared at himself in the mirror. Philomena stared back at him, looking faintly disapproving.

  "I'll make it work," he told his reflection, then snatched off the wig. He glanced at the doorknob to make sure it was locked. But he didn't have to worry. Lauren had made it clear that she'd respect her new roommate's privacy. Besides, she'd gone to bed over an hour ago. She was so nervous and giddy about her upcoming date with him that he didn't have the heart to back out of it.

  So he'd faked a phone call to himself, then told Lauren that date was on for Saturday night. Dinner at seven at Lucia's, one of the best Italian restaurants in town.

  He shed his clothes down to his boxer shorts, refusing to wear the silk panties Ladybug Lingerie had provided. He did have some pride. Of course, he still had to wear the stupid gel bra. But he'd found an easier way to take it on and off. He tugged on the elastic strap and pulled it down his chest and over his hips. It dropped to his feet. He stepped out of it, then hung it by one strap on his doorknob.

  He set his alarm clock for 5:00 a.m. Plenty of time to assume his Philomena costume and makeup before Lauren awoke. Checking his watch, he saw that it was almost 2:00 a.m.

  Which left his conscience exactly three hours to remind him of all the reasons he shouldn't sleep with Lauren McBride.

  * * *

  7

  « ^ »

  "How much are these crotchless panties?"

  Lauren turned to see Becky dangling a scrap of black silk in front of Philomena's face. The poor woman sat on a love seat, her face turning three shades of red as she fumbled through the Ladybug Lingerie catalog.

  "Well, let's see," Philomena said, her brow furrowed. "I know they're in here somewhere."

  "The panties are ten dollars," Lauren said, sorting through a box of garter belts. "And they come in both black and red, with matching bras."

  "Cool!" Becky exclaimed. "I'll take one of each. Don will die when he sees me in these."

  "Just don't kill him off before the wedding," Lauren quipped.

  Becky tossed the panties in Lauren's direction. "Maybe you should wear a pair for tonight."

  "What happens tonight?" Mary Ann Simms asked. Mary Ann had attended St. Bartholomew's parochial school with Becky, Lauren and most of the other guests present at Becky's bridal shower.

  "Lauren's got a hot date with a hunk," Becky replied before Lauren could even open her mouth.

  Philomena cleared her throat, then held up the catalog. "There are some lovely silk nightgowns and matching robes in here if anyone is interested."

  "Not until we hear about this hunk," Mary Ann said, taking a seat on the arm of the sofa. "What's his name? Where did you meet him? And exactly how hot is he?"

  Lauren swallowed a sigh, knowing very well her friends wouldn't let her leave the party without revealing every detail. "His name is Sam. I met him at my apartment. In fact, he's Philomena's cousin. She fixed us up."

  Every eye turned to her protégée. Philomena cleared her throat. "That's right. We're … I mean, they're going to Lucia's for dinner."

  "Not bad," said Teresa, a former tomboy who now ran a modeling agency. "But what about after dinner. Anything special planned for dessert?"

  The living room filled with the sound of laughter and woof whistles. Lauren could feel a blush crawl up her cheeks. "That's enough, guys. You're embarrassing Philomena."

  "She's not the one turning red," Becky said with a wide grin. "You
don't mind, do you, Philomena?"

  "No," Philomena relied, her voice sounding a little strained. "Not at all. Just pretend I'm not here."

  Mary held her hands up in the air. "Wait a minute. First things first. What does he look like?"

  Lauren slid onto the floral love seat next to Philomena. "Well, he's got short, dark hair and the most incredible blue eyes."

  "Yummy," Teresa said. "What about his butt? You know I'm very particular about that part of the male anatomy."

  "His butt? Well…" Lauren hesitated, letting the moment build. "Do you remember that toilet paper commercial with Mr. Whipple, where he had this irresistible urge to squeeze it? I can definitely empathize with him."

  The women dissolved into laughter. Philomena shifted slightly on the love seat.

  "So were you able to resist temptation?" Becky asked.

  "Barely." Then Lauren stood up, not wanting to admit her erotic fantasies in front of Sam's cousin. "Okay, that's all I'm telling. We're here to make sure Becky has everything a bride needs to make her groom happy. So please fill out your order form and hand it to Philomena."

  "Sure," Mary Ann teased. "Tell us about his magnificent butt, then leave us hanging."

  A mischievous gleam twinkled in Teresa's eye. "Well, there's no reason we can't eat dinner at Lucia's tonight, girls, and see this hunk for ourselves."

  "Absolutely not," Philomena interjected, her voice firm. Every woman in the room turned to look at her. "I think Sam and Lauren deserve some privacy so they can get to know each other better."

  "Philomena's right," Becky concurred. "Besides, if it works out, maybe she can bring him as her date to my wedding. Then we can all get a gander at his gluteus maximus."

  "I'll see what I can do," Lauren promised, her stomach fluttering when she looked at the clock. The bridal shower had lasted later than she had expected, which left her less time to prepare for her date.

  Mary Ann handed her order form to Philomena.

  "Let's get moving, girls, or Lauren won't have time to obsess over what she's going to wear tonight. You know a date isn't official unless a girl spends at least two hours panicking in front of her closet."

  "And half an hour on the shoes," Teresa said. "They have to make just the right impression. I can never find the right shoes to wear."

  Mary Ann shook her head. "Clothes are never a problem for me. It's my hair." She picked up a handful of her thick black curls. I go through at least half a can of hairspray for each date. Fortunately, I only average two dates a year, so I'm not exactly breaking the budget on hairspray."

  "Are you going to wear your hair up or down?" Becky asked Lauren.

  "Up," she replied, growing more nervous by the moment. It had been a very long time since she'd been this excited about a date. Or wanted to impress someone so much. Especially after the way she'd acted the first time Sam saw her. "Unless you think it looks better down?"

  "I vote for down," Becky replied, then surveyed the room. "What does everybody else think?"

  A show of hands resulted in a split decision, with half of her friends voting for her to wear it up, the other half down. She turned to Philomena for the deciding vote. "Well, what do you think?"

  Philomena looked at her for a long moment. "Down. I definitely like it down."

  "Then down it is." Lauren took a deep breath. "Any other advice? I need all the help I can get."

  "Just be yourself," Mary Ann told her. "He won't be able to resist you."

  Lauren wished she could agree, but experience had taught her otherwise. Between Chuck and her blind dates she'd come to the depressing conclusion that the men in her life had always been the ones to leave first.

  The bridal shower started to break up, several of her friends giving her a hug and wishing her good luck as they left.

  Philomena stood up and handed Lauren the stack of order forms she'd collected. "Looks like the party was a big success."

  "What do the sales add up to?" Lauren asked, taping the forms together, then sticking them into her briefcase.

  "I left my calculator at the apartment," Philomena said. "But I can figure it out once we get back."

  "Don't worry about it," Lauren replied. "I'll take care of it this time. So how did you like your first Ladybug Lingerie party?"

  "Very enlightening."

  She smiled. "My friends tend to get carried away sometimes."

  "I like them."

  "Me too." She gathered all her Ladybug Lingerie samples together, gave Becky a hug goodbye, then followed Philomena out the door. The older woman seemed a little quieter than usual. Was she nervous about the upcoming date as well? Perhaps Philomena sensed that Sam was less than enthusiastic about it?

  Lauren mentally kicked herself for letting her insecurities overtake her once again. From now on she was going to think positive. She planned to knock the socks off of Sam Kane. As well as the rest of his clothes.

  A few hours later, Lauren stood in front of her closet, wondering if she had enough time to run out and buy a new outfit. She had nothing decent to wear for this date. The red dress she'd planned to dazzle Sam with had a small grease spot on the front that she hadn't noticed before. The blue pantsuit made her look hippy.

  "Philomena!" she called out to her new roommate. "Help."

  Philomena stuck her head in Lauren's bedroom. "Is something wrong?"

  "I've got less than an hour before I'm supposed to meet Sam at the restaurant and at this rate, I'll be showing up naked. I don't have anything to wear."

  Philomena gave her a sympathetic smile. "You've got great clothes. I love that pink thing."

  "What pink thing?" she asked, sorting through the hangers in her closet for the fourth time.

  "That sweater you wore the day we went out for lunch."

  "I can't wear a sweater to Lucia's. It's not dressy enough."

  "Couldn't you wear a skirt or something with it?"

  "I don't look good in skirts."

  Philomena folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the door frame. "I find that hard to believe. Besides, any man in his right mind isn't going to be looking at your clothes. He's going to be looking at you."

  "I think that makes me even more nervous."

  Philomena smiled, the resemblance to Sam so striking that it made Lauren blink. "You'll be fine. Really."

  Lauren stepped back from the closet. "Why don't you pick something you think Sam would like. And I'll wear it. No matter what it looks like."

  Philomena moved purposefully toward the closet. "Now that's an offer I can't refuse."

  Lauren sat at a corner table in Lucia's wondering why she had ever allowed Philomena to select her clothes for this date. She truly liked the older woman, but her taste in fashion left a lot to be desired. And how could she ever hope to seduce Sam Kane wearing a white, button-up-to-the-collar long-sleeve blouse, a gray wool jacket and a calf-length gray wool skirt?

  Of course, it wouldn't matter what she wore if Sam stood her up. He was late. Twenty minutes late, to be exact.

  The waiter approached her table, a small, sympathetic smile on his face. "Would you like to use the courtesy phone to see if your date is delayed?"

  "No, thank you," she said, laying her napkin on her plate. It was obvious he wasn't coming. No doubt Philomena had twisted his arm to agree to this date in the first place. She had no reason to believe a man as gorgeous as Sam Kane would be interested in her.

  She pushed back her chair, her throat tight. How she wished she hadn't mentioned it to Becky or any of her other friends. Now she'd have to see the pity in their eyes when she told them he'd stood her up. And she couldn't even get a refund on the crotchless panties, thanks to Ladybug Lingerie's no-returns policy.

  Lauren walked blindly toward the front entrance, willing herself not to cry until she was alone in her car. It was stupid to be this upset anyway. She didn't even know the man. What did it matter if he was a no-show for their date? Obviously, he wasn't attracted to her. Or perhaps her behavior a
t their first meeting had put him off. Who knew how much arm-twisting Philomena had to do to even get him to agree to this date in the first place. Maybe he'd decided she simply wasn't worth the effort.

  She was so intent on thinking of all the reasons he wouldn't show up that she ran right into the man at the front door.

  "Whoa," he said, grasping her shoulders to keep her steady. "You're not leaving already, are you?"

  She sucked in her breath at his touch. It felt as if a bolt of lightning had shot through her. His blue eyes twinkled and a half smile creased his handsome face.

  "I … didn't think you were coming."

  "I'm sorry I'm late. I was held up at the last minute. Will you let me make it up to you?"

  She swallowed, wondering why it felt as if her knees were melting. "How?"

  "By treating you to the best dinner in town. The chef here is a friend of mine and I've already put in a special order for us. And I have a surprise for you."

  "What kind of surprise?"

  He grinned. "If I tell you, it won't be a surprise. Will you stay?"

  All her insecurities dissolved under the warmth of his smile. "How can I resist now?"

  "Good." Then his gaze slowly skimmed over her body. "You look wonderful tonight."

  "Thank you," she replied, worried that if she didn't move soon, she'd melt right into a puddle on the floor. It was disconcerting that a man could have this kind of effect on her. Maybe she was just hungry. Low blood sugar caused all kinds of physical symptoms.

  When the burly maitre d' approached them, Sam leaned over to whisper something to him. The big man nodded, then disappeared into the kitchen.

  "I've already got a table for us," Lauren said, suspicious of the twinkle in Sam's eye.

  "We won't need a table."

  "We won't?"

  He shook his head. "That's part of the surprise."

  A moment later, the maitre d' returned carrying a huge picnic basket. "Will there be anything else, sir?"

  "No, thank you, Carter. This looks perfect." Then he turned and held out his arm to Lauren. "Shall we go?"

  She wrapped her hand around his forearm, curious to see exactly what he had in mind. But instead of heading out the front door, he moved toward the back of the restaurant, through a door marked Emergency Exit Only, and up a steep, narrow flight of metal stairs.