Sex, Lies, and Beauty Aides (7 page)

She’d tackle the concept of love first. The sex issues would have to wait. How sad her version of baby steps meant procrastination? She wanted, needed, longed for real romance. It wasn’t her fault no one was listening.

She tossed the book when she read
heaving bosom
and imagined Kat’s voluptuous breasts bounce and bob at will.

Come on Sabrina, admit it. You’re jealous because you’ve never experienced what they have. You’ve read it, you’ve seen it happen to others, and you want it for yourself, s
houted the scantily clad she-devil on her left shoulder.

No, she doesn’t, q
uipped the neck-to-toe flannel-clad angel on her right.

Psh. Liar.

“Will you two shut up?” Man she hated when both sides of her conscience started a battle of wills and honesty. No matter what she always lost and ended up feeling stupid, if not insane.

“Damn it you two, now see what you’ve done.”

Her attempts were futile. No way were these books going to help her any more help than the sexy magazines. She opted to switch to the movies, definitely more visual.

The phone interrupted her even less successful movie education. Thinking it was either Kat or Jill begging her to join them she answered, “How’s tricks?”

“Excuse me?”

Whoops, nice way to answer the phone when it’s your boss, brainless. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were one of my roommates.”

“No problem, Sabrina. I literally just got out of a board meeting and frankly I’m completely stressed. May I come over and talk? I know its last minute and all, but I’d truly appreciate it if you’d see me. I need a level head to talk to.”

Her shoulders sagged as she leaned back into the couch. So much for time to herself. “Sure Travis, do you want me to meet you somewhere?”

“Nah. We can decide what to do when I get there.”

“That’s fine.” She lied. “I’ll be here.” She gave him her address and directions and hung up, wondering when she suddenly became his bosom buddy. Didn’t he have someone else to bother?

Sabrina debated what was worse. An evening alone with her movies and books or an evening with Travis. Neither one was particularly favorable. Her options were limited. Since there was nothing to be done about it now she chose to laugh. Crying never got her anywhere.

She loved her job. She loved how it felt when people wrote to her at the magazine and told her how well her inexpensive feminine spa treatments worked. She loved to help people. The endless requests for her advice on inexpensive products to do the same as the expensive ones. Or better yet, to come up with something equally good, made from scratch, with ingredients around the house.

This was the secret to her success. People mattered.

She tidied her apartment and cleaned the kitchen. She’d put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher and started it when her doorbell rang. She hung the towel on the ceramic chicken attached to the side of the cabinet above the sink and sucked in a deep breath. Ready. Set. No way.

Hesitantly she answered the door unable to tamp down her sense of foreboding.

“Hi, Travis.” Stepping back, she forced a smile.

* * * *

Travis whipped a bouquet of red and white carnations tied with a Christmas ribbon from behind his back. “For you,” he executed a perfect bow, “to apologize for my deplorable manners on Monday. It was totally unacceptable of me to speak poorly of my brother in your presence. I hope you’ll forgive me and allow me a second chance.”

Her mouth dropped open. Her gaze shifted to the flowers then back to him. A tear glimmered in her eye. She took the flowers.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not really. It’s just—well—this is the first time a man has given me flowers. Th—thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

She pulled the door wide open. “Won’t you come in? Have a seat while I put these in water?”

The way she closed her eyes, breathed in the scent of the flowers and sighed was like watching a Hallmark commercial. Surely she was kidding that she’d never received flowers. She had to be.

“How was your meeting?” she asked.

“Oh, you know—stuffy execs, boring conversation, and crazy accountants. It was a great big fat 7.6 on the migraine scale.” Rubbing his temple, he advanced into the room.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Movies lay on the VCR and books on the table. Romance novels were one thing, so were the movies, but the dated sex books and leaning tower of magazines. What the hell was she doing? “I’m sorry if I interrupted you. We can do this another time.” He stepped toward the door.

She lurched toward him. “No. Really Travis, there’s nothing to interrupt. This is homework.” She blushed. “Well sort of.”

“Come again?” Homework. Exactly how innocent was she?

* * * *

Good grief. How did a person prevent the heat of embarrassment traveling up her neck to her cheeks? Was it honestly going to come down to admitting her lack of experience and possibly the loss of her job?

“Have a seat. This will be long and complicated. Can I count on you to keep my secret?” Sabrina questioned the wisdom of confiding anything to Travis, only what alternative did she have? She needed a man’s advice and he was a man, even if she didn’t think highly of him.

“I’m not sure if Kat mentioned it or not, and I know I glossed over it the other evening, but, well—you’re the one who told me I needed to take on a couple of additional columns. Unfortunately, the subject matter is love and sex.”

“I don’t see the problem.” He frowned.

Her words had sounded like pure babble. “The problem, as you call it, is I’ve never had a steady boyfriend, much less—well you know.” She struggled for an appropriate gesture. There wasn’t one. She hung her head, utterly embarrassed and sad she’d admitted this to a stranger who also happened to be her boss. At least he wasn’t Trent. A girl needed to keep her worst fears to herself.

“Ah, I see what you mean. Hmm. That might present a certain amount of um—ah—consternation, if you will.” Eyes gleaming, he nodded like a bobble head.

Did he have to look so fricken pleased? “I’m scared spitless. When it comes to beauty aids I’m cool. But, how can I be expected to do—the other?”

“Now I see the reason for your reaction that first day in the office.” Contemplating the situation, he rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip.

His lips. She imagined them as Trent’s. What she wouldn’t give for one of his kisses.
Stop it. This is your boss, not Trent.

Too late to worry now that she’d opened the proverbial can of worms. She’d never get over the repercussions, but plunged on hoping for a miracle. “It probably means my job, but I don’t see how you can expect me to write these articles with no—ah—experience.”

“Please tell me you’re not serious. Do you honestly think I’d fire you over it?” He picked up one of the romance novels and pressed it her hands. “See this book? Do you truly believe the author experienced everything she wrote? Hell no. The writer comes up with an idea for a story, plots it out, and writes it.”

She tore off a broken fingernail. Scornfully, she peeked at him from the wall of hair that covered her right cheek. She’d manufactured this move years ago to cover her scar. The action was as natural as breathing. A mode of protection.

“Half the time they have no idea how the story will end other than a happy ending because society demands it.”

He made a great deal of sense.

He handed her a movie. “See this movie? It’s fiction as well. Sure, life may imitate art in some instances. A movie is visual. Women want to be romanced. Men want women. It’s all about what he’s willing to do for her and what she’s willing to do for him. They’re usually so deep in the throes of a battle of odds and insignificant problems the hero and heroine almost miss recognizing the love they’ve searched for all along.”

She felt better. He’d helped her understand what she’d been unable to figure out before now. There wasn’t an easy answer.

When Travis handed her one of Kat’s books, she cringed. She wanted to crawl in a hole and have a bulldozer cover her with a ton of dirt.

“This kind of book is for those who want to get the most out of sex. They’re about discovery and seeing things in a different light, more along the lines of instructions on what to do and how to do it when you get—lai—um—get lucky.”

Sabrina laughed. Not a snicker, but a full on belly laugh. What a relief to finally let go of her pent up anxiety over her work dilemma. “Thank you, Travis. I needed that.”

“Glad to oblige.” Humor reflected in his eyes.

“Sabrina, I hate to state the obvious, but what makes you think you’re the only person on the face of the planet who feels clueless about sex?”

Words failed her. She so didn’t want to have this conversation, not with her boss. Heck, not with anyone.

“Think about it this way, anything you learn is something you can share with readers who feel as naïve as you do.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

It warmed her heart he cared enough to share the insight. “I was sure you’d fire me over this. You know it’s not easy to admit any of this, and in this instance, I’m glad it’s you who took over the magazine. I’d die if I’d just admitted this to Trent.”

Now why’d she say that aloud?

“Not Trent. On second thought it makes perfect sense, if you consider how staunchly you defended him the other night.”

Her head came up so fast her neck cracked. “Don’t start. I’m warning you now. I don’t have the energy for round two.

Defensively, he held up a hand. “He’s the love ’em and leave ’em type, an unscrupulous womanizer. Not at all acceptable for the likes of you. You’re beautiful, refreshing, and honest. In fact, I find it inconceivable you’re not with somebody.”

“That’s easy. Every single guy I’ve ever gone out with has fallen in one of three categories. No ambition, nothing but sex on the brain.”

“That’s the majority of young guys in general. Nothing personal.”

“Or they’ve felt so comfortable they bared their souls to me. Then once they realized I knew their secrets, I’m suddenly not date worthy.” She hated discussing this, but what option did she have if she really wanted help.

“Ouch.”

“Or in the course of a date or two they claim dating me was like going out with their little sister.” She shook her head trying to erase the memories.

“That’s brutal.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve also had a long series of one-date wonders.”

“Come again.”

“Yeah, you know—after one date and you wonder what you saw in them or why you wanted to go out with them in the first place.”

“Okay, I’ve had a number of them, so you’re not alone there.” He chuckled.

Travis’ laughter reminded her of Trent. Just the thought of him made her sad. Why couldn’t he be in her life?

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m fine.” She had to stop thinking of him. He was just a fantasy. A really good one. “I’ve also had a handful of dismal two-date disasters that left me contemplating the need for psychological help. Sad to say, I’ve never made it to a third date” She dusted off an imaginary piece of lint from her slacks. Dear Lord. What had taken hold of her senses? Once she’d started to spill her guts, her mouth didn’t stop.

“I thoroughly enjoyed myself the other night and you’re responsible for my pleasure right now. I’d like to get to know you. It’s not often I meet a woman like you. The ones that run in my circle are a bit on the pretentious side.” He spoke with such warmth and exuberance on his face.

There was something else, only she didn’t have enough experience to decipher it, yet. She liked that about him. “Travis, can I be honest with you?”

“I certainly hope so.” Travis leaned forward, his brows knit.

“That’s exactly what ran though my mind that first night at dinner. You were so busy cutting Trent down it turned me off.”

He reached for her hand but she pulled back before their hands touched.

“I didn’t mean to. It’s just—Trent has the potential to be so much more. I guess I don’t understand why he’d choose that kind of lifestyle.”