Сандра Браун: Fanta C

At the door of Fantasy, he told her, "I'll send down a typewritten proposal. Look it over. Study the figures. I'll call for your answer in a week or so. In the meantime, don't hesitate to call me if you have any questions." He flipped a business card from his suit coat pocket. "The number on here is a direct, private line. Use it."

As usual, Adam left her feeling out of breath and drained of energy. She envied him his self-confidence and the purpose with which he moved through life. He seemed to know exactly what he wanted and didn't let anything stand in his way. She wished she could be that decisive. Did she want to remain a small-scale operation or expand?

Lord, what did she, a widow with two children and a broken heart, know about big business?

A broken heart?

Her thoughts came to a standstill. Like most times when someone stumbles over something, he goes back to see what had tripped him up. A broken heart. Yep, there they were. Those three words had gotten in the path of her thoughts and impeded them.

Her heart was broken. She was in love with Thad Randolph. He was in lust with her, just like all those other women he'd bedded.

How could she possibly think about expanding her business or what to cook for dinner or anything else when she couldn't sort out her feelings for him? There should be no sorting to do. The categories of her feelings should be black and white instead of this infernal gray. She couldn't even pinpoint the moment her anger had turned to anguish, her fury to despair.

She took an aspirin for her pounding headache.

Her mood was slightly lifted when she returned home to discover Lilah's car parked in her driveway. She entered her house and found her sister scooping ice cream into bowls for Matt and Megan.

"Mrs Alder left and Aunt Lilah said we could have ice cream," Matt reported importantly. He was also sitting on his knees in his chair. Another no-no.

"Before dinner?" Elizabeth asked, vexed.

"You know, I always wondered why Mom made that such a cardinal rule," Lilah said, wagging the ice-cream scoop at her sister. "What difference does it make if you eat your dessert before or after the meal?"

"You're hopeless." Elizabeth moved toward her sister, who was licking ice cream off the scoop, a nasty habit she'd tried to break her children of.

"Does that vague smile mean that I'm forgiven for whatever sin I committed?"

Elizabeth embraced her. She'd never been able to stay mad at Lilah for long. "You're forgiven."

"Thank God! I'd already invited the kids out to dinner. It would have been an interminably long one if you weren't speaking to me. What'd I do, anyway?"

"You didn't do anything. What prompted this invitation to dinner?"

"That."

Lilah nodded down at an envelope which Elizabeth hadn't yet noticed. She recognized the logo on the letterhead. "That's… that's… They didn't!"

"They did. Enclosed in that envelope, which I took the liberty of opening, is a letter of acceptance for two of your stories to be published in their book and a check for five hundred dollars. Is that wonderful or what?"

"That's wonderful!" Elizabeth cried. "Now the kids can have new coats and boots and we won't have to eat tuna all winter. Is there any ice cream left for me?"

"Now I know I'm forgiven," Lilah said, and laughed.

When the children finished their ice cream, they were sent upstairs to change their clothes. "We'll have a 'grownups only' celebration tonight after the kids go to bed," Lilah said. "There's a bottle of champagne chilling in the fridge."

"Sounds great."

Lilah looked at her sister closely. According to Elizabeth's expression, nothing was "great." "Are you going to tell me about it, or do I have to wait until we go to summer camp? That's when you imparted the big secret that you'd started your period."

"Tell you about what?"

"Whatever it is that took the gilt off getting published. Whatever it is that has your chin dragging. Whatever it is that has your eyes rimmed with dark circles."

"I didn't know I looked that bad."

"Like Count Dracula's mother after the blood bank ran dry. What's the matter with you? This is supposed to be a celebration."

Elizabeth told Lilah about her lunch with Adam Cavanaugh and his notion to have a Fantasy in the lobby of each of his hotels.

"That sounds terrific, Lizzie! What's the problem? Other than the fact that you'd have to deal with him."

"The problems are too many to list, Lilah. I can't pack a suitcase and go city-hopping at the drop of a hat. I've got too many responsibilities here."

"Your kids would probably be better off if you left them now and then."

"And what about the money? I don't know anything about high finance. Do you realize the investment I'd have to make?"

"You said Cavanaugh offered to make you a business loan. Don't think of the investment, think of the profits, "Lilah said, her eyes twinkling. "I'm surprised you're not grabbing this opportunity with both hands."

Elizabeth rubbed her forehead. The aspirin hadn't helped much. "I don't know, Lilah."

Lilah took Elizabeth's hand and lowered it to the table. "Does your indecision have anything to do with a certain neighbor of yours?"

Elizabeth's eyes swung up to her sister's. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Lizzie," Lilah said, her tone softly reproachful, "the kids told me about Matt's accident. The fruit bowl. The 'papers of Mom's that flew everywhere.'"

"Oh."

"They also said you got 'real mad' that Thad had read them." Lilah softened her voice even more. "Now even I have enough imagination to figure out what was on those pages that he read. One of your fantasies, right?"

"Right," Elizabeth said dismally.

"And you were embarrassed."

"Mortified."

"So you're avoiding him."

"Like the plague. I can't face him, Lilah."

"Just because he read one of your fantasies? That's ridiculous." Lilah saw the guilt spread over her sister's face like indelible ink. Elizabeth never could hide her feelings. "Uh-oh, not just because he read one. He read one and applied it to real life. Is that it?"

"Well, sort of," Elizabeth confessed.

"Lucky you."

Elizabeth was flabbergasted. "Lucky? Lilah, I was humiliated."

Lilah's eyes rounded and she whispered, "He's into bondage ?"

"Oh, for crying out loud. No! He's not into — Can't you understand? He acted out my fantasy because he thought that's what I wanted."

"I'm dying to know all the salacious details, of course, but I realize you wouldn't tell me in a million years, even if we went back to summer camp. All I can say is that if I ever fall in love — and yes, I think you're in love with him — I'll buy all the sex manuals that are on the market.

"I'll underline all the good parts and earmark the illustrations that appeal to me and pass them to this fictitious guy and say, 'Hey, Charlie, I'm too shy to discuss with you my most secret desires, but I'd welcome you doing to me anything on these marked pages.' If Thad put to good use his knowledge of your heart and mind and libido, I would say he's worth his weight in gold. And if this is any consolation, I've never seen a guy more smitten."

Elizabeth looked up, begging to be convinced. "How do you know?"

"Easy. He stank to high heaven with jealousy of Cavanaugh. It was obvious to me and I don't even know the guy. Look," she said, standing up, "I'm gonna run upstairs and check on the kids. You sit here and think about what you really want to do with the rest of your life. Cavanaugh's proposal sounds like a dream come true, a real fantasy. On the other hand, Mr Randolph is pretty fantastic himself. And he's closer to home."

Elizabeth sat alone at her kitchen table and asked herself what she wanted. If she could have her choice of anything at that very minute, what would it be?