The Mummy Makeover / Mummy for Hire. Cathy Gillen Thacker
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an early, healthy dinner. Afterward, they could watch a movie together. A nice, animated, G-rated movie with absolutely no kissing.
When the stylist continued to stare at her with blatant curiosity, Erica kept a tight rein on her patience for the sake of civility. “Did you need something else, Bette?”
“Just a quick question. Are you getting laid?”
The woman knew blunt like she knew big Texas hair, much to Erica’s chagrin. “No, I am not getting laid. And even if I was, I wouldn’t say a thing for fear the news would end up on every radio and TV station in Houston.”
Undeterred, Bette strolled in and parked herself on the wingback chair across the room. “Something’s wrong with you, honey. Or maybe I should say something’s right with you. I’ve watched you all afternoon. You’re distracted, and that typically means a man’s involved.”
Erica couldn’t exactly refute that, but she wouldn’t confirm it, either. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy, my foot, sugar. You’re in la-la land. Why, you even smiled for no reason at all, even after Megan told you Mr. Winston didn’t leave a tip.”
Truth was, she hadn’t heard Megan mention the non-tip. She hadn’t heard much of anything aside from an annoying little voice in her head reminding her of Saturday night. “Okay, I’m in la-la land, but who wouldn’t be? It’s a gorgeous day outside.”
Bette delivered an inelegant snort. “It wasn’t that kind of a smile, Erica. It was a dreamy smile, like you had some guy on your mind. And I’m thinking that guy is the pizza deliveryman.”
For heaven’s sake. “He doesn’t deliver pizza. He’s a personal trainer. My personal trainer.”
Bette raised a too-thin eyebrow. “What’s he training you for?”
The exact same thing Kieran’s brother had asked, and Erica had the same reaction—a blush to beat all blushes. “Fitness training, Bette.”
“Well, if I were you, honey, I’d want more from him than a few rounds on a treadmill.” Bette leaned forward and smiled. “That is, if you’re interested in him.”
If Erica issued a denial, she’d be handing the woman a huge fib. Instead, she opted to take the Fifth and began gathering her things.
Bette shot to her feet and pointed. “You are interested, aren’t you?”
Erica shoved her cell phone into her bag, threw the purse strap over her shoulder and faced her interrogator. “I’m interested in getting out of here while I can still find a parking spot at the grocery store. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Bette positioned herself in the doorway, impeding Erica’s departure. “Listen, sugar, I know I’m twice your age and I’ve been married to the same man since St. Peter was playing in the sandbox. But I still know a lot about the opposite sex.”
“What’s the point to all this, Bette?”
“The point is, you aren’t getting any younger, doll. And there aren’t that many cute, single guys your age, ripe for the picking.” She took Erica’s hands into hers, her expression surprisingly serious. “I know it was hard, losing a husband so young, but it’s time you bring your life out of storage, dust it off and take it for a spin. That means going for the gusto while you still have some gusto left.”
“You mean dating?”
“If you want to play it that way, yeah, dating, and all the benefits that come with the package. Your trainer man has a lot of benefits, some that can’t be seen with the naked eye unless he’s naked.” Bette followed up with a cackle that grated on Erica’s nerves like a civil defense siren.
“You’re telling me that I should seduce him?” The thought of seducing any man, let alone Kieran O’Brien, seemed almost laughable.
“That’s exactly what I mean, honey,” Bette said as she released Erica’s hands. “Remember, you don’t have to marry him. But a guy like that can bring you back to the land of the living with only a little encouragement. Unless you’ve forgotten how to encourage. If that’s the case, I can give you a few pointers. All you have to do is ask.”
Erica didn’t dare ask the resident gossip for advice on sex. “Thanks for the offer, Bette, but I don’t have time for men in my life right now.”
Bette winked. “You might just change your mind after a little more training.” With that, Bette spun around and headed away with more vigor than most women her age, leaving Erica to ponder her coworker’s observations.
Never in a million years would she entertain the idea of seducing Kieran. Then again, two nights ago, she didn’t have to do a thing aside from engage in a little suggestive banter. That alone had earned her a kiss.
A kiss she wanted to experience again. And again. So why shouldn’t she go for it? Because he’d been adamant about professionalism. Because he’d said the kiss shouldn’t have happened, and it wouldn’t happen again. And that was quite enough to discourage her.
Yet when Erica headed through the salon to retrieve her daughter from the break room, Bette’s words echoed in her mind.
It’s time to take your life out of storage…
Maybe her friend was right. Maybe she had put her life in the closet, using excuses like mothballs to preserve her memories of Jeff. Maybe it was time to move forward. And maybe Kieran O’Brien could be the cure for her inability to gain any ground.
If she had the least bit of courage, she would go for it, as Bette had suggested. She just might at that—provided Kieran didn’t resign as her fitness coach, never to be seen again.
“Look, Mom! It’s Kieran!”
Erica slowed the sedan to a crawl when she caught sight of a black Porsche hugging the curb in front of her house. And leaning against the hood, dressed in a tight white T-shirt that showcased his dynamite arms, and jeans that looked tailormade, a modern-day Greek fitness god. Her first thought—why had he come to the house? Her next—she was very happy to see him. Secretly thrilled, even though she questioned his unexpected appearance, and if his resignation was imminent.
As she whipped the car into the driveway, Erica’s mind zipped back to the kiss that continued to plague her, and she immediately forced the image away. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—think about that now, particularly with the kissing culprit on the premises.
Before Erica could get one foot out the door, Stormy jumped from the vehicle and ran to Kieran, throwing her arms around him as if she’d rediscovered her long-lost best friend.
When Stormy rushed back and announced, “He’s got a surprise!” Erica calmly walked to the trunk, opened it slowly and pulled out two grocery bags in an effort to regroup before she had to face him. Yet when Kieran sauntered toward her with that same show-stopping gait, her composure dissolved like an ice cream cone on a summer sidewalk. He had all the confidence in the universe and no qualms about looking her straight in the eye, while she only wanted to look him straight in the mouth. He soon arrived where she stood like a statue, gripping the bags to her chest, as if they offered protection against all that charisma.
“Hey,” he said with a smile that could easily melt the frozen foods in her grasp.
And like a fool, Erica replied, “Aren’t you supposed to be at the club?” as if inconvenienced over his arrival.
He braced a hand on the top of her car, making the midsize sedan seem remarkably small. “I finished what I needed to do earlier than planned.”
“So he came to see us today instead of tomorrow,” Stormy added.
Erica handed her daughter the bag with the refrigerated items. “Take these in and put them away before the ice cream melts.”
Amazingly Stormy skipped away without any protest, and Erica felt the need