to
end up on one of those horrible talk shows telling the world how
awful a mother I am.” Charlene’s copper eyes widened.
“Oh, really.” Andrea laughed with relief. Her
dramatic, lovely mother was back, thank the Lord. “Could you see me
baring my soul on national television?” Charlene giggled. “I guess
not.” Then her expression grew intent as she swept Andrea from head
to toe with an appraising gaze. “In fact, you’re too restrained.
Too serious.”
“Not that again,” Andrea said with a sigh.
She went back to the table and sat down, with Charlene following
close behind.
“Your hair is lovely, but my hairdresser Eric
could give you a sexy new cut.” Charlene lifted a lock of Andrea’s
hair as though already planning what she’d tell him to do.
“I don’t want sexy hair, thank you.” Then a
vision of that chocolate dream Jamal flashed in her head. “You
think he could, you know, fluff it up a bit?”
“Absolutely!” Charlene clapped her hands
together in anticipation. “You’d love it.”
“Nothing too drastic,” Andrea put in quickly
with a frown. She had to put reins on Charlene or who knew what
she’d end up looking like.
“Leave it to me.” Charlene stood back with
one hand under her chin. “And these clothes ...”
Andrea tugged at her blouse self-consciously.
“What’s the matter with my clothes? They look fine.” “Pu-leeze.
Where do you shop? Frumps R Us?” Charlene frowned at the skirt and
blouse set Andrea had worn.
’ “There is nothing wrong with my clothes,”
Andrea said, sticking out her chin. “I don’t like short skirts.”
“Well, there is one thing Mama and I agree on. You need a good man
to set your soul on fire.” Charlene sat down across from her and
winked.
Andrea started, her jaw almost hitting the
tabletop. “Gran talks entirely too much. I’ve got too much work to
do to think about him.”
“He’s a nice enough young man. Why shouldn’t
you think about him?” Charlene picked up the ceramic coffeepot on a
heated base and refreshed both their cups.
“Nice my foot. Jamal Turner may have sucked
Gran in, but not me,” Andrea said with force.
“Ahem, well, Jamal thinks a lot of you, from
what I understand.” Charlene dabbed her lips with a napkin and
looked at Andrea expectantly.
“Ha! He turns on the charm for any female
that’s still warm and has a pulse.”
Andrea had spent days building up this player
image of him. She needed it as a protective shield against his
charm. Or was it to protect her from herself? She shook her head,
chasing away that thought.
“So this Jamal really turns you on! My oh
my.” Char-line wore a delighted grin. “Where did you meet him? What
does he do?”
“Wait a minute. Didn’t Gran tell you?”
Charlene shook her head slowly. “No, my
dear,” she said, her grin widening.
“Then who told you about Jamal?” Andrea
blinked at her in bewilderment.
“You just did.” Charlene was the perfect
picture of a sleek cat that had caught her prey.
“I can’t believe it!” Andrea groaned in
despair. “You set me up!”
“Don’t blame yourself. I’m a master.”
Charlene laughed. “Now, tell all. You know you want to.”
“There is nothing to tell.” Andrea took her
hands from her face and sat up straight. “After Ellis, I’m immune
to phony sweet talk.”
“I see. That’s why you’re working so hard to
convince yourself he’s no good. Because you’re not attracted to
him.” Charlene gave her a pointed look.
“That’s ridiculous!” Andrea stammered. “The
last thing I need is another heartbreak on legs. No way. My whole
focus is on serving the patients who need me.” Charlene let out a
stream of silvery laughter. “Oh, Andrea. You sound so cute.”
“My work is not cute,” Andrea grumbled. She
squirmed in her seat.
“Don’t pout.” Charlene reached across the
table and patted her hand again. “Relax and be happy.”
“I am happy with my career.” Andrea gazed