Her conscience clear, Sam grabbed a short black dress off a rack, went into the dressing room and changed. Quickly, she slipped on some strappy, high-heeled sandals that increased her height from an insignificant five three to a much more respectable five six.
She brushed out her hair, applied enough makeup to conceal her freckles and surveyed herself in the mirror. Acceptable, she thought. The black matte jersey echoed the sheen of her dark curls and made her eyes seem more green than gold. She hurried outside.
A red sports car was parked there. Next to it stood Brad, his arm around the waist of a tall, slender blonde dressed in a form-fitting halter dress of glittering bronze.
Samantha stumbled on the asphalt. This was his fiance´e? The woman was gorgeous! Not a day over eighteen, she had the long, lean look of a modelexcept for the large, firm breasts that threatened to bounce right out of her low-cut dress. She was wearing heels, too, fantastic purple-and-bronze Jimmy Choo stilettos that lifted her at least four inches over Sams suddenly pathetic height. Sam felt like a troll next to her.
This was no Blanche Milken.
Sam pinned a smile to her lips and held out her hand. Hi, Heather, Im Samantha Gillespie.
The blonde ignored her outstretched hand. A cloud of Chanel No. 5 enveloped Sam as Heather hugged her. Samantha! Brad has told me so much about you!
He has? Sam murmured faintly when she could speak.
Heather smiled blindingly. Her teeth were as white and perfect as the rest of her. Oh, yes. I have to admit that when he first told me what good friends you were, I was the tiniest bit jealous, but now that Ive met you, I can see that I didnt need to worry at all.
Startled, Sam glanced at Heathers face. Had the womangirl, reallymeant that the way it sounded?
Heather was smiling, her large blue eyes clear and innocent.
Brad smiled, too.
I told you you were being silly. Samantha and I have always been just friends. Right, Sam?
Right. Youre being oversensitive, Sam told herself sternly. She smiled at Brads fiance´e. Youre marrying a really nice guy.
Nice? Heather turned to Brad and drew a teasing finger down his chest. I dont know if I would have used exactly that word to describe you, darling.
Sam frowned at the sexual implication of the blondes words. She glanced at Brad, expecting him to defend his character, but he only gazed at Heather, his hand closing over the blondes. The two of them stared into each others eyes, a silent communication of some shared memory passing between them. They appeared to have completely forgotten Sams presence.
She cleared her throat.
The spell was broken. The two lovers stepped away from each other. Brad glanced at Sam, his mouth curving ruefully. Sorry. You know what its like to be in love.
Sam forced herself to smile again, but inwardly she felt oddly defensive. Of course she knew what it was like. Shed had innumerable boyfriends in high school and college. Shed gone out with men from here to Chicago to New York to London, Paris and Rome. But somehow, none of them had ever looked at her the way Brad looked at Heather. Sam didnt remember him ever looking at Blanche Milken that way. Talk about wearing your heart on your sleeve. She wouldve thought he would show more restraint.
Shall we go? she asked brightly.
Brad opened the passenger door.
You dont mind if I sit in the front, do you? Heather asked Sam. My legs get terribly cramped in the back.
Sam saw Brads gaze go immediately to the impossibly long legs of his fiance´e. Of course not, she said, feeling like a child relegated to the back seat. She climbed into the tight space behind Heather and Brad.
With a roar of the powerful engine, they were off.
Chapter Three
Heather glowed, too. Sam had never met a woman who glowed so much.
Sam looked down at her menu and tried to subdue the wave of dislike she felt for Heather. So far, shed seen nothing about the blonde that would justify Brads falling in love with her. Except for her gorgeous face and figure. But Heather must have more to her than that. Brad wasnt the kind of man to care only about a womans looks.
Sam shifted her gaze to Brad as he raised a finger and a waiter rushed over. Watching him place their order, she was struck once again by a sense that he had changedand not just on the surface.
Sam could restrain her curiosity no longer. What happened to you, Brad? she asked after the waiter left. You used to be a strictly meat and potatoes man and now youre ordering shrimp and jicama. And you look like you should be on the cover of GQ. Isnt that an Armani suit?
Heather happened to me. Putting his arm around his fiance´e, he smiled down at her. She convinced me to try some new dishes and helped me make a few changesnew clothes, haircut and contact lenses. An improvement, dont you think, Sammy?
I always thought you looked fine. Forgetting her own attempts to change Brads wardrobe, Sam realized suddenly that she really didnt care for this new style that Heather had foisted on him. Before, hed looked likeBrad. Now he looked almost alien. He looked rich. Sophisticated. Masculine.