Out-Foxxed. Debra Webb
Sabrina climbed out of the tub. Frothy bubbles slid down her skin and accumulated on the floor as she stepped onto the cool tile. She should eat. The wine and the bath had been very nice and very necessary, but she needed food. She’d learned from experience in the past couple of years that food could be an extremely reliable way to distract herself from things she didn’t want to think about. Her intense workouts allowed for that occasional indulgence.
Grabbing a couple of big fluffy towels, she wrapped her hair in one, turban-style, and swabbed her body with the other. As she did, she considered what frozen entrées she had in the fridge. There might be the makings of a salad if the expiration dates hadn’t passed too many days ago. She spent so many late nights at work she didn’t stock the refrigerator regularly and as soon as she did, she ended up throwing half of the food out a week or two later after returning from an unexpected mission.
The doorbell rang as she shuffled out of her room. A frown tugged at her brow. It was almost nine and she just wanted to vegetate for the rest of the evening. Why the heck would anyone be at her door now?
Then she remembered.
She stalled in the middle of her living room. No way was she going to answer that door.
This was the one downside to being single. Well-meaning friends. If her single friends were involved in ongoing relationships, they wanted everyone else to be as well. Not one, especially the one likely outside the door just now, could understand how Sabrina could be happy without a steady guy in her life. She couldn’t tell them that a steady relationship created unnecessary questions.
A new round of pounding on the door rattled the hinges. “Sabrina! I know you’re in there.”
Damn. This was a new low even for Veronica.
Veronica Call and Sabrina had started out at the UN together as substitute interpreters. They’d stayed friends after Sabrina was recruited by IT&PA.
“I’ll just keep banging until you open up!” Veronica warned. “Or your neighbors call the cops.”
Knowing she wasn’t kidding, Sabrina released both dead bolts, then wrenched the door open. “I was in the tub.” Not exactly a lie.
Veronica, hands pushed beneath a heavy fur coat and stationed on red silk clad hips, surveyed her skeptically. “You knew I was coming,” she accused. “We planned this evening days ago.”
“I forgot, okay?” Sabrina stepped back, allowing her furious friend to enter.
Once inside the door, Veronica pointed to Sabrina’s bedroom. “Go get dressed. You’re going out.”
For about five seconds, Sabrina considered telling her to forget it but then decided against it. Veronica was one pushy broad. If she didn’t get her way, she’d just stand here all night and argue her case. The woman must have been a trial lawyer in another life.
“Where are we going?” Sabrina asked, padding to her bedroom and leaving the door open so they could still talk.
“Blue Note. Wesley’s meeting me there.”
Wesley. Oh, yes. Sabrina remembered him. Tall, handsome, gorgeous golden eyes, sleek ebony skin.
“What I don’t understand,” she said loudly enough for her friend to hear, “is why you want me there. Isn’t Wesley enough for you?” Sabrina grinned as she rummaged for something to wear.
“Wesley has a friend.”
She should have seen that one coming. Dread pooled in Sabrina’s gut, and she glanced at the other woman who now leaned in the doorway, her arms crossed defiantly over her chest.
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Come on, Sabrina. David is nice. Really nice.”
Sabrina removed one of her favorite little black dresses from its padded hanger. “Nice?” She tossed her friend a skeptical look. She hated being set up.
“Nice and handsome and sexy as hell,” Veronica fired back, her temper flaring to match her hot red dress. “I know you’ll like him. You just have to give him a chance.”
Sabrina smoothed the tight sheath over her hips. “And you’ve met this David?”
“Well, no, but Wesley told me all about him.”
“Wesley told you he’s sexy?” Sabrina countered. “Now I’m worried about Wesley.”
“You’re impossible.”
Sabrina stepped into a pair of black stilettos and uncoiled the towel from her hair. “Gotta blow dry.”
Fifteen minutes later, dried, styled, and accessorized, Sabrina slipped into her coat and announced, “I’m ready.”
“’Bout time.” Veronica assessed her from head to toe and back. “You look fabulous. David should be very pleased.”
“My greatest aspiration,” Sabrina said wistfully as they exited her apartment. “To please a stranger.”
THE PREMIER JAZZ CLUB on 3rd and 131st was packed. As a close cousin of the owner, Wesley had reserved the best table in the house. The exciting, spirited atmosphere immediately lifted Sabrina’s mood. Even if David hadn’t shown. Or maybe she was simply enjoying Veronica’s discomfort over the fact that her scheming had failed so miserably. There was nothing more humiliating than masterminding a blind date only to have one half of the couple fail to show.
“I’m sure he’ll be here,” Wesley said again.
Sabrina wasn’t keeping an exact count, but she was pretty sure he’d made this same comment at least seven or eight times.
“Should we go ahead and order?” Veronica asked looking immensely uncomfortable.
Served her right. Maybe this would teach her a lesson.
Sabrina tried not to get too much glee from the circumstances but she just couldn’t help herself.
“Yes, let’s order.” Wesley looked even more appalled than his date.
The waiter arrived as if he’d sensed the shift of intentions at the table. He made his recommendations and then efficiently accepted their orders.
“You know,” Sabrina felt compelled to say considering the downtrodden expression worn by her good friends, “this really is okay.”
Wesley’s expression suddenly brightened. “There he is.”
Sabrina usually controlled her baser urges better than this but for some reason she totally blew it this time. Like Veronica, she almost broke her neck trying to get a glimpse of her incredibly late blind date.
Any oxygen in her lungs evaporated as instantaneously as a drop of water on a scorching desert rock.
David was gorgeous. Drop-dead gorgeous in fact.
Apparently noticing Sabrina’s stunned look, Veronica leaned close and whispered, “I told you. My Wesley has exceptional taste.”
Sabrina shot her a disdainful look. “The jury’s still out,” she muttered.
David paused at their table, apologizing profusely and then introductions were made.
It had been a very long time since anyone had waltzed into a room and blown Sabrina away like this guy did. Maybe she’d just been lonely for far too long. Whatever the case, the tide turned and the night suddenly had the makings of a great evening. She’d have to thank her friend later. Much later.
Dinner and dancing with expensive wine and intelligent conversation were enough to make any girl happy for a few hours. But by 1 a.m., Sabrina was ready to go. And her hurry had nothing to do with the food or the place or the time.
It was David.
She hadn’t been this determined to take a man home with her in far too long to recall.
Veronica