Free Who's Sorry Now (2008) by Freda Lightfoot

petticoats swirl to reveal long shapely legs. She felt daring and wonderfully attractive.
    Some of the girls were in stiletto heels, others in bobby sox, jeans and Sloppy Joe sweaters. Carmina was wearing the skirt she’d bought from Dena Dobson: polished black cotton printed with red cabbage roses, her favourite colour. Her white blouse, with its neat Peter Pan collar, strained over her full breasts, cinched in at the waist with a three inch wide black patent belt that matched her new strappy shoes and clutch bag. She felt young and beautiful, aware of boys’ eyes hungrily watching her, dazzled by her own power.
    A queue of ardent admirers were already hovering in the hope of claiming her as a partner. Unfortunately, Luc wasn’t among them, but Carmina meant to win him too, one way or another.
    It was all so exciting. She’d danced every dance so far, played by Terry Hall and his skiffle group. The Hand Jive, The Stroll, lots of bopping and rockin’ ‘n’ rollin’, and of course the sexy Cha Cha. Arnie had bought her a milk shake, Jake Hemley had told her that she looked the mostest and she’d even smooched with Kevin Ramsay, who must be twenty-five at least, although only so that she could let Luc see how much in demand she was.  
    As she made her way back to her friends Carmina spotted him. He was weaving his way through the crowd, making a bee-line straight for her, and her heart quickened. She’d known all along that it was herself who Luc Fabriani really fancied, and not Gina at all.
    He was wearing a draped blue jacket with long lapels fastened with a single link button, and smartly tailored black trousers. He looked incredibly sexy and fashionable but unusually conventional, not nearly so cool or with-it as she remembered. His hair, almost black, was flicked up into an artfully disordered quiff, although he seemed to have shortened his sideburns.
    He reminded Carmina of the dreamboats in her magazine, a pin-up every bit as exciting as Ricky Nelson and Troy Donahue whose pictures she had stuck to the wall of their bedroom. Gina was more of a Pat Boone fan.
    Folding her arms, she looked him over from head to toe. ‘What happened to the leather jacket and the black turtleneck sweater? You never used to go out without them?’
    ‘Gina doesn’t care for them.’
    Carmina felt as if he’d struck her. She couldn’t believe that he would actually change his appearance to suit any girl, let alone her boring sister.
    ‘Has she not come then?’ he asked, looking around as if half expecting to see her.
    Carmina went quite cold inside. This was not what she wished to hear. Tilting her head provocatively, she fixed him with a radiant smile. ‘She doesn’t really care for dancing, not with the leg, you know. Anyway, why would you want the monkey when you can have the organ grinder?’
    She saw Luc wince slightly at her caustic comment so that she almost regretted saying it. But then he surprised her even more with a sharp retort of his own. ‘She never seems to let it stop her doing stuff as a rule.’
    ‘Depends how much she wants to do whatever it is, I suppose,’ Carmina snapped right back. ‘She didn’t seem too bothered about missing this dance, or you for that matter. In fact, Gina asked me to tell you that it’s all over between you. She wants to finish with you, as you really aren’t her type.’
    Silence. Had she not found it so incredibly hard to believe, Carmina would have said he looked stunned, and deeply disappointed.
    Carmina stepped closer, fluttering her eyelashes as she flicked him a flirtatious smile, allowing him ample opportunity to catch a whiff of her favourite Max Factor Primitif perfume that she’d almost drenched herself in before coming out. She thought it so delicious and romantic he’d surely forget about Gina and be quite unable to resist her.
    Luc glowered down at her, deep creases etched between those dark enigmatic eyes. ‘Why?’
    ‘Sorry?’
    ‘Why would Gina want to