Stephanie Doyle - Who Wants To Marry a Heartthrob?

Jenna made it all seem so effortless.

“We’ll have to do it again sometime,” she purred, then chuckled. “That is, if Brock doesn’t pick me to be his wife.”

“Sure,” Richard concurred.

“Ladies. Until next week.” She turned and sauntered away and again Bridget couldn’t help but be impressed by how she managed to walk on those heels. It was something Bridget was going to have to practice. Right after she bought a pair of shoes with heels.

For effect however, she turned to glare at Richard. She wasn’t really angry with him, but there was no point in letting him off the hook that easy.

“What?” he asked in reference to her glare. “I was interviewing her.”

The glare continued.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” he replied to her silent accusation.

Her eyes only narrowed farther.

“Okay, maybe it is fair, but nothing happened. She’s trying to mess with you. Don’t let her get to you.”

“I don’t plan to,” Bridget assured him. “Now, I believe someone promised me ice cream.”

“That was for when you lost,” he said. “You won, which means you treat.”

Bridget scowled but figured that was only fair. “Want to come along, Raquel?”

“And do what?”

“Eat ice cream,” Bridget explained although she was pretty sure that had been obvious given the fact that they were going out for ice cream.

“Ice cream? You mean that stuff with all the fat and sugar and calories in it?”

“Yep, that about sums up ice cream.”

“I couldn’t possibly.”

But Bridget could see she was tempted. “When was the last time you had ice cream?”

“I don’t remember,” Raquel whispered as if she were committing some sin by even considering it.

“It’s really good.”

“I suppose, maybe, they have a low-fat variety?”

“Nope. Not this place. All fat and hot fudge.”

“And sprinkles,” Richard added.

“Sprinkles,” Raquel repeated as if she were saying diamonds instead.

“My treat.”

“Okay, but I want to state for the record that I agreed under stress,” Raquel proclaimed and marched off in search of her coat.

Richard considered that. “I think she meant duress.”

Bridget smiled. Her new friend might not be the brightest, but she was an artist, and Bridget was planning on putting her face, hair and body safely in this woman’s hands.

She only hoped that Raquel was up to the challenge.

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