of white cotton from one of the bags. To my horror, I see that it’s a white midriff baring t-shirt with the word ‘Body’ written across the bosom. The lettering is hot pink within a gold outline. I flip the t-shirt over and read, ‘I Taste as Good as I Smell.’ Oh. My. God.
“Um, Brook,” I begin, “what the hell are you thinking?” I look to Amber whose horrified expression matches my own. She looks as though we just caught her cuddling with a pack of six-week old kittens.
Brook reaches into the bag and pulls out another one of the t-shirts along with a pair of hot pink shorts which can only be described as hot-pants. Or swim bottoms.
I stare open-mouthed at Brook. “Do you really expect us to wear this?”
“You bet your bottom I do.”
“Bet our bottom, you’ll be able to see our bottoms,” Amber says, poking at the shorts as though they were the Noel doll.
“Now just give it a minute and think. We need to advertise, and sex sells. We’ll be promoting our new tasty body powders at the fair and I want everyone there to be talking about Brook’s Bath and Body Shop.”
“Yeah,” I gasp, “and they’ll be saying, ‘Who invited the hookers to the Corn Festival?’” She cannot be serious about these uniforms. They look like costume props from a bad 1970’s porno.
Brook snatches the hot-pants out of my hands and tuts her disappointment over my reaction. “You’re thinking about this all the wrong way, Ellie. This is an opportunity for you.”
“An opportunity? To do what? Audition for a job at Hooters?” I ask.
“It’s an opportunity to show Tim what he’s missing out on, Miss Funny-Pants. I saw him at City Hall when I was registering our booth for the festival. Apparently his booth is just two down from ours. He told me he’s been trying to call you, asked what you were up to and such.”
Brook and Amber turn intent eyes on me, attempting to gauge my reaction to the news that Tim’s been making inquiries. I’m trying really hard to look nonchalant over this announcement. “Oh yeah? So what’d you tell him?”
A smile of conspiratorial splendor washes over Brook’s face. “I told him you were like a whole new woman, out-and-about on the town with some new man. I placed special emphasis on the new man part.”
“Brook! Why’d you tell him that?”
Brook sashays her way around the counter and packs the porno uniforms back into their bags, stuffing them below the register and out of sight. “I told him that so he’d be jealous. I thought you might thank me for making him suffer a bit but I see now I have been sorely mistaken,” she huffs.
“He’s suffering?” I ask. “I mean, not that I care.”
“Uh huh, sure thing, hon.”
“I don’t! I’m just curious is all. I mean, did he seem upset?” I ask, pretending to read a descriptive label on the back of a hand cream.
“I wouldn’t say he’s crying himself to sleep at night but when I mentioned you were hanging out with a new stud, he got pretty riled up. Wanted to know his name and how serious the two of you were. I told him it was all a big mystery but that you seemed real satisfied. He didn’t like that part at all.” Brook’s obvious pleasure over her pot-stirring is evident across her face.
So, that’s why he called me. He thinks I’m out with a new man and he’s suddenly jealous. What a pig. “Yeah, I bet he didn’t. But there’s a flaw in this plan of yours, Brook. I don’t have a new man,” I point out, trying hard not to think about Sam.
“Well, that’s easy enough to fix. Remember my cousin’s kid?”
“Celery?” Amber asks, bored.
“It’s Ellery, Miss No-Help-At-All. There’s no C in his name,” Brook says, hand on hip. “Ellery is just dying to meet you, Ellie!” she says, turning to me. “I’ve already told him all about you and,” she pulls a small, folded piece of paper from between her ample breasts, “I’ve got his number right here.”
I take the paper, warm from being wedged between Brook’s triple D’s all morning, and examine the number. My psychic alarm bells begin to stir. Am I really ready to begin dating again? This Ellery could be another in a long line of frogs, but he could also be wielded like a sword to make Tim suffer. As an added bonus he seems to meet all of my