Flirting with Temptation - By Kelley St. John Page 0,21

for the long haul, for the whole kit and caboodle, when Babette had never even been able to get him to say that they were dating exclusively. Not that she tried. But what did Kitty Carelle have that she didn’t?

Class. Polish. Elegance. Style. Panache.

Babette’s throat tightened, and she wished so many descriptions didn’t come to mind.

“The sex, well, it was the best I ever had.” Babette could make the same comment . . . about the same man.

A large oval mirror hung on the living room wall, and Babette pivoted to take in her reflection. She squinted as she studied her face, still a tad flushed from her meeting with Kitty. She’d heard there were two kinds of women in the world, those who captured men’s hearts with their elegance and class, and those who were merely the playthings they used along the way—until they got what they really wanted.

Her skin grew hot. She was not merely a plaything. For Jeff, or anyone else. And she had everything to offer that Kitty did. More. If she’d have wanted to settle down with one guy, she could have. But that hadn’t been what she wanted. She blinked. It wasn’t what she’d wanted before, but she had found some stability with her job, and she rather liked it. Maybe now was the time to find stability in a relationship too. But first she had to cross the humongous obstacle of getting her ex back with his.

No pressure.

She reached back, unclipped the barrette, tossed it on the couch and let her hair fall free.

“Uh-oh,” Granny said, moving behind Babette to dash a glance at her in the mirror. She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth then shrugged. “Something big is happening, so you want a new ‘do’, right? Want me to call Cecile and see if she can work you in?”

Babette smiled at Granny Gert’s perceptiveness. They really were alike, after all. “I told Kitty I’d leave tomorrow, so tell Cecile that I’ll pay her double if she can squeeze me in late tonight or early tomorrow morning.”

Granny picked up the phone and dialed the number. “Cecile? It’s Gertrude. . . . I’m fine. Listen, Babette’s got a new job that’s going to put her working with an, um, young man from her past. She needs a new”—Granny stopped talking and started nodding—“That’s right, Cecile. I don’t know if I can tell you that or not. Hold on.”

“She wants to know which young man,” Granny relayed. Cecile followed the traditional hairstylist motto of having to know everything about her clients and everyone else in town.

“You can tell her,” Babette said, holding her hair up as she tried to envision what type of look she wanted. The entire three years she’d dated Jeff he’d been specific about what he liked best, and because of that, Babette had never given it to him. It’d been a little game they had played, and she’d enjoyed having fun with him. He’d seemed to like the fact that he couldn’t tell her what to do, couldn’t control what she did. In fact, he’d claimed he loved her impulsiveness, her spontaneity and lust for life.

Kitty had done the opposite during her “worshipping him” stage and had given him everything he wanted.

Granny Gert’s chatting swiftly converted from calm and casual to nonstop and excited. “Yes, that’s him,” she rattled. “Uh-huh, Clarise’s brother-in-law. Yeah, they did date for quite a while, three years, on and off. No, I’m still not real certain why things ended. She doesn’t talk about stuff like that all that much. Clarise always told me everything, but Babette’s her own person, you know. Strong-willed, that’s what we always said about her when she was little. And she tends to keep some things to herself. Yeah, the important stuff,” Granny said, laughing, while Babette crossed her arms.

“Hellooo,” she said, raising a hand and waving her fingers at her extremely talkative grandmother. “I’m right here, and I can hear you. And just so you—and Cecile—know, I’m not changing my hair for him. I simply want something new for my biggest Love Doctor challenge yet. That’s it.”

Granny Gert put a pink-tipped hand to her chest and mouthed, “Sorry, child.” Then she continued the conversation with their favorite hairdresser. “Yes, Cecile, she can come in an hour.” She looked at Babette. “You can, can’t you? That will give you enough time to eat some dinner first too. We’ve got all that spaghetti, you know.” She paused, then said,