She showed to a booth in the restaurant an attractive couple in their early thirties. The woman was a stunning blonde who wore a chic zebra-sniped dress and a matching scarf tied carelessly around her hair. The effect was provocative. She looked like a high-fashion model. The man was tall, prosperous-looking, confident.
"You're Heather, aren't you?" the woman asked as she took her seat.
Heather pointed to her name-card. "Yes, I am." The woman made her nervous. Though she knew she looked stunning herself in a low-cut green cocktail dress, Heather felt an instinctive distrust of another good-looking woman. She was automatic competition, no matter how fleetingly the other was passing through her life. She made Heather reassess herself. A quick glance into one of the many mirrors in the restaurant reassured her. She felt better about the blonde.
"Why do you ask?" she inquired more politely.
"We know some friends of yours," the man replied. He paused a moment, and smiled at her. "Steve and Dave. Remember them?"
Heather's heart leaped to her throat. What did this mean? Was she about to be unmasked, her shameless exploits exposed for all to know?
"Yes," she replied cautiously. "I remember them."
"They spoke very well of you…" the woman's voice was soothing, reassuring. She reached out and just barely touched Heather's arm. "Very well."
The woman's light touch provoked a familiar tingle in the redhead's belly. Did that touch mean what she thought it meant?
"We would be flattered if you'd come out for a drink with us later." The man's voice was more intimate then before. It, too, aroused tingles inside Heather.
She felt not the slightest hesitation about what her reply should be. She was intrigued. "I'm through at eight. I'd love to join you for a drink. Any friends of Dave's and Steve's… as the saying goes." She laughed.
The last hour before quitting time flew by. Heather's thoughts were only half on her job. The rest of her mind toyed with speculations as to what delights might be in store for her this evening. Both the man and the woman were so attractive, so worldly. She was intrigued by both of them. And excited.
They took her to a fashionable bar overlooking the lights of the city. They all drank Italian liqueur and coffee and chatted. Heather was fascinated by the stories the others had to tell of travels in far-off places. They knew so much, so many interesting people. She was flattered they seemed interested in her, an ordinary suburban housewife.
But then she realized, as she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, she wasn't all that ordinary. She was beautiful. With her red hair flaming. And her full sensual figure hugged tight by her flattering dress. Her red nails danced over the contours of her glass as she fingered it nervously. The other woman reached over and took her hand.