The Unlikely Romance of Kate Bjorkman by Louise Plummer Read Free Book Online

if she’d forgotten that there were other people in the room. “Yes, I’d love to go—that is if there’s room.”
    “You can sit on Richard’s lap if there’s not,” said Fleur, standing up and gathering every dirty dish within reach. She looked mad.
    “Take the Cherokee,” Dad said. “That should hold all of you.”
    “I’ve got to brush my teeth,” I said. “Ash, come upstairs with me, I’ve got something to show you.”
    Reluctantly she pried herself loose from our hero’s side.
    “What is it?” she asked when we were alone in my bedroom. “Your mother didn’t buy you diamond earrings for Christmas, did she?”
    “Diamond earrings? I don’t want—”
    “If I don’t get them, I will kill my mother.” She sat on my bed. “I’ve told her I don’t want one other thing, just diamond earrings.”
    “Ash, listen—”
    “Is the Ice Queen sleeping with you?” Ashley had spotted Fleur’s duffel bag next to the bed.
    “Fleur? Yes.”
    “She wanted to kill me when she saw Rich liked me.” She let out this hormonal squeal. “Isn’t he beautiful, by the way? What a surprise to find him here.”
    “Yes—I mean, yes, he
is
beautiful. I think so too.” I’d never in my life said anything so dumb out loud. “I—I mean,” I continued, stammering, “I mean, I like Richard, that is, Rich.”
    “Like him?” Ashley said.
“I crave his body.”
    I swallowed. “So do I,” I said, sitting on the bed next to her. “So do I—crave his body, I mean.”
    She looked at me as if I had developed an unpleasant facial tic.
“You?”
And then burst out laughing, obviously because it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
    “Yes, me. What’s so funny?”
    “Well,” she managed to say between giggles, “you’re just not his type at all. I mean—” She stopped when she saw my face, which I know was not smiling. “You’re serious! I can’t believe it; you’re serious.”
    I had never talked about Richard to anyone. To speak aloud about him was to make him a schoolgirl’s fantasy, even if I was a schoolgirl. It made us both seem silly, but especially me. I felt that now as I talked: “Yes, I’m serious, and I want your help. You’re the only onewho can help me. I don’t know how to attract someone like him. I’ve had no practice, no interest before this, really, but now I’m interested.” I shook her shoulders. “I’m interested. Help me
lure
him.” I used her word and felt immediately embarrassed.
    “But
I
want him,” she said, her voice rising.
    “You have Kirk. You have anyone you want. Please—Richard Bradshaw is the only guy I’ve ever found who remotely interests me. He is the love of my life!” I was using a language she would understand. I didn’t like the way it sounded coming out of my mouth. Sappy romance language. Ugh.
    “So this is the cool Kate Bjorkman in love.” Something, the tone in her voice, made her sound a little jealous of that cool Kate Bjorkman. “Hell has frozen over at last,” she continued. And then, hugging me effusively, “Of course I’ll help you,” she said. She clasped her hands in front of her as if she were beginning a painting. “Take off your glasses,” she commanded. “And keep them off. He’s not going to look twice at you with those Coke bottles on your face.” She removed them for me.
    Even as close as I was to her, her face blurred. “How will I see?”
    “You want him, don’t you?” she said. “Then you’ll have to give up seeing for a while. You’re not wearing lip gloss,” she said. “Didn’t I give you some?”
    “Oh, I keep forgetting—”
    “Let me fix your face a little.” She pulled makeup out of her coat pockets. “I keep this stuff to freshen up during the day,” she said.
    She did something to my lashes and eyes and applied more lipstick and gloss and blush.
    “He’ll fall on his head when he sees you.”
    “I won’t be able to see it,” I said. If he looked at me with yearning, I