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  “His name is Michael Thackery,” Nina told her. “I edited his memoirs, which are the dullest thing I’ve ever read, and he came in to the office today to talk about the line edit and asked me to dinner. And I thought, well, it’s a start. But now I need some help.”

  “Wait a minute.” A grin spread across Charity’s face. “This is the twit we’re talking about, right?”

  Nina glared at her. “Charity, this isn’t funny. I need help.”

  “Right. Sure.” Charity stood up. “Well, first of all, you have to stop wearing those blah colors. Gray and black do not suit you.” She moved around the shop, gathering up red lace and redder cashmere before she came back to Nina. “Here, go try these on.”

  Nina looked doubtfully at the clothing in her hands. At least there was no red feather boa. “What is this stuff?”

  “Red cashmere scoop-necked sweater,” Charity said. “Red lace panties. Red lace Incredibra.”

  Nina fished the bra out of the pile draped over her arm. “This thing is an Incredibra?” The bra dangled from her hand, round and shapely without her. It practically had cleavage without her. “I’ve heard about them, but I’ve never seen one.”

  “Yeah. It sort of pushes everything together and then shoves it up.” Charity shook her head. “I tried one on once, but since I’m a C-cup to begin with, it just made me look like I had a very large double chin with a cleft in it. My customers who are B-cups swear by it.”

  Nina glanced down at her own B-cups. “Okay, I’ll take it.”

  Charity frowned at her. “Don’t you want to try it on?”

  Nina shook her head. “I’m on my lunch hour. I’ll just trust you.”

  Charity shrugged. “Well, bring back what doesn’t look right, and we’ll try something else.”

  That afternoon after work, Nina tried on the clothes, while Fred sat bored at her feet, waiting for his walk. The Incredibra lived up to its name, incredibly bright red and incredibly structured so that her breasts moved up nearer her chin than she thought possible, creating cleavage that was clearly impossible. Combined with the red cashmere sweater, the outfit made Nina look like a very good time. I wonder what Alex would think of this, she thought, and then stamped on the thought. Alex was never going to see her red-cashmered cleavage.

  On the other hand, Michael was.

  She studied herself in the mirror, not sure she wanted red-cashmered cleavage with Michael. Michael looked as though he hadn’t had a sexual thought in his life, but maybe he came alive at night. Maybe incredible breasts were not a good move in Michael’s case. Maybe nondescript was better for a first date. No sense promising what she had no intention of delivering.

  She stripped off the sweater and the Incredibra, dropping them both on the bed, and started for her dresser to get a regular underwire. Fred put his paws on the bed, grabbed the bra and trotted to the door, and Nina ran after him and grabbed it back.

  “Just like a guy,” Nina said to him and tossed the bra farther up on the bed as she went to change.

  The regular underwire was much better, and the blue sweater she put over it was pretty without being a come-on, and her black skirt was knee-length, no slit. The outfit made her look attractive and responsible. It in no way said, “Yo, come jump my bones,” which was the message Charity said a good date outfit should send. The last thing Nina needed was a good date outfit that sent messages. The Incredibra was definitely going back…

  Nina looked at the bed. The Incredibra was gone.

  “Fred!” She took a quick lap through the apartment—kitchen, bathroom, living room—and stopped in front of the open window. Fred had found his own way of paying her back for putting off his walk. “You’re in big trouble, Fred,” she said and climbed out the window.

  She spotted him down beside the Dumpster, the bright red bra in his mouth. “Fred!” she yelled again, and he ducked behind the Dumpster. “You’re dead meat, Fred,” Nina told him as she ran down the fire escape. “You’re yesterday’s news, boy.”

  She trapped him behind the Dumpster, so he crawled farther behind it, into the cavern made by the open lid against the brick wall. She got down on her hands and knees and peered into the cave and saw Fred sitting there, morose as ever, her Incredibra at his feet.

  “Give me that,” she said to him. “Right now.” She crawled a little way under the lid, and Fred lowered his head and growled at her.

  Nina stopped. “You’re growling at me? You’re growling at me?”

  “Let me guess—De Niro,” Alex said from behind her, and she straightened in surprise and banged her head on the Dumpster lid.

  “You’re going back to the pound,” she told Fred as she backed out, rubbing her head.

  “Is your head all right?” Alex said when she was standing. “Let me see.” His hand was firm against her cheek, tilting her head down so that all she could see was the clean white T-shirt stretched across his broad chest. It was an extremely good chest, but she’d already been staring at it with lust for five weeks, so she closed her eyes to keep her concentration and to keep from grabbing him. He explored the incipient bump on the back of her head, and she drew a deep breath as his fingers moved through her hair and sent inappropriate chills down her spine. If she leaned forward another inch, she could lick his neck.

  That would be bad.

  Alex tilted her head back up to him. “The bump’s not too bad. We can still go jogging.” He let go of her chin and rested his hand on her shoulder. “I saw you streak past my window. Why are you down here braining yourself on a Dumpster?”

  “Fred,” Nina said, trying hard not to visibly enjoy his hand on her. “He’s going through a Stage. It’s the Terrible Twos. Or in his case, the Terrible Fourteens.”

  Alex let go of her and stooped down on his haunches to peer behind the Dumpster. “Fred? What’s wrong with you? Get out here.”

  Fred came trotting out and dropped the bra at Alex’s feet.

  “The hell with the pound,” Nina told Fred as she snatched for the bra. “I’m going to kill you right here.”

  Alex was too quick for her. He stood, holding the bra by one end, and squinted to read the tag. “The Incredibra.” He raised an eyebrow at Nina. “I’ve heard of these, but I’ve never seen one.”

  “Well, now you have.” Nina made another grab for it, but he moved it out of her reach again.

  “I mean, I’ve never seen one on an actual woman,” he explained. “In the flesh. It’s probably something I should experience. For my professional advancement.” He smiled at her encouragingly, and it took all of Nina’s self-control not to smile back and leap on him.

  He was a rat. He was waving her bra around in public. He was gorgeous and she wanted him.

  “You want me to model my underwear for you for your professional advancement,” Nina said, trying not to think about it.

  “It’s all right.” Alex stopped smiling and made a pathetic effort to look serious and adult. “I’m a doctor.”

  “I’m going to take you back to the pound with Fred,” she told him. “You’re both completely un-trainable.” Then she snatched the bra out of his hand and went back up the fire escape before he could talk her into taking off her clothes right there in the courtyard.

  She was going to have to do something about the effect he was having on her. She was going to have to think of something later, when she was calmer. Like when she was with Michael. She’d definitely be calmer then.

  “You’re never going to see an Oreo again,” she told Fred when he followed her back through the window. “Never.”

  Chapter Four

  Six hours later, at what Nina prayed was the end of her date with Michael, she was abysmally grateful she’d passed on the Incredibra for the evening.

  Now if she could only pass on Michael.

  It wasn’t that he was awful. He was just intense and boring, his black eyes so sharp and his gray suit so well pressed that he looked like an eager beaver while he talked like a drone. It was a bad combinati
on, and she wanted away from it, but somehow he’d managed to get himself into her apartment, and although she’d had the good sense not to offer him a drink, she was at a loss as to how to get rid of him. Even Fred was annoyed with him.

  Michael had started the evening by staring at Fred and saying, “What is that?” and when she’d told him Fred’s name, he’d said, “Good doggy.” Fred had given him a look that up till now she’d only seen him use on generic dog food. Things went from bad to worse when they went to dinner and Michael talked about his book. Then they went back to her apartment, and Michael continued to talk about the book while Nina bustled around trying to look busy, opening the window for Fred, straightening the paperwork on her table, yawning, and finally looking at her watch. Nothing seemed to sink into Michael’s thick head. Even Fred gave up staring at Michael and strolled off someplace else to amuse himself.

  The knock at the door half an hour later came as a welcome reprieve. “Just a minute,” Nina told Michael while he was in midsentence.

  When she opened the door, Alex was standing there in a ripped T-shirt and cutoff jeans, looking incredibly young and incredibly good and holding her Incredibra.

  “Fred dropped this off.” He held the bra up like a fishing trophy. “I’ve only seen this once, but I’m assuming it’s yours?”

  “Yes.” Nina shoved lustful thoughts from her mind and made a grab for it.

  “Hold it.” Alex moved it away from her. “How do I know it’s yours? Put it on and let’s see if it fits. I’ll check. It’s okay because I’m a doc—”

  “Give me that or you’ll need a doctor,” Nina told him under her breath.

  “Nina?” Michael said from the living room.

  “A date?” Alex raised his eyebrows.

  “Unfortunately, yes.” Nina held out her hand. “Give me my bra.”

  “Unfortunately?” Alex grinned at her. “Can’t get rid of him, huh?”

  “I’ve tried everything but he won’t take the hint.” Nina glanced back over her shoulder to make sure Michael hadn’t come to join them. “If you’ll just give me my bra, I’ll go—”

  “Let me handle this.” Alex walked past her into the living room. “Hi, I’m Alex.” He held out his right hand, but Michael’s eyes were on the bra in his left. “This?” Alex waved it at him. “Nina left it in my apartment last night. Here you go, honey.”

  Nina grabbed the bra and rolled it up so it didn’t look quite so bright and lacy. “Thank you, Alex. You can g—”

  “Nina and I are big film buffs.” Alex strolled toward the TV. “Great classic on tonight. I’m sure she told you we needed to see this, but you’re welcome to stay and watch, too.” He punched the button on the remote and flipped through the channels while Michael looked accusingly at Nina and Nina glared at Alex.

  “He’s a film student,” Nina told Michael. “I’m helping him with his coursework so he can graduate and get a real job instead of being a deadbeat like he is now.”

  “That’s my girl,” Alex said over his shoulder. “Ah, here we go.” He sat down on the floor with his back to the couch and watched the screen where two small children with springs on their heads were talking to Santa.

  “What classic is that?” Michael asked suspiciously.

  “Santa Claus Conquers the Martians,” Alex said. “My professor says it’s a perfect example of existential angst.”

  “Really.” Michael was still suspicious, but now he was also confused.

  “Of course, it’s an adaptation of that great Russian novel by Turgid.” Alex smiled up at Michael. “You know Turgid?”

  “I think I read him in college,” Michael said. “Depressing, right?”

  “Hell, yes.” Alex nodded at the screen where adults with springs on their heads had joined the children. “This is the commercial version. Americans.” He shook his head in disgust.

  “Right,” Michael said, and Nina took pity on him.

  “Well, Alex needs to study now, so why don’t we call it a night?” She slipped her arm through his.

  He pressed closer to her, and she lost any sympathy she had for him and pulled him toward the door.

  “When can I see you again?” Michael asked.

  Fred growled at him, and Alex shot Michael a look from the floor that was surprisingly vicious. “We’re going to be working pretty hard on this film stuff until I graduate,” he told Michael. “Better not call her until after then.”

  Michael looked back at him coldly. “And when will that be?”

  “At the rate I’m going?” Alex beamed at him. “I should be out in about five years.”

  Michael rolled his eyes and let Nina lead him to the door. “You know, I’d be jealous if he wasn’t so much younger than you,” he told Nina. “Nice of you to help the kid out.”

  “Yeah,” Nina said, turning her head so his kiss fell on her cheek. “I’m the motherly type.”

  When Michael was safely on the other side of the door, she went over to Alex and kicked him on the shin.

  “Ouch!” He rubbed his leg. “Be careful, woman. You could seriously injure somebody doing that.”

  “No problem,” Nina said. “You’re a doctor. You can fix it. And if you can’t, you’ll always have your film school degree to fall back on.”

  Alex turned back to the TV. “Where did you find that weenie?”

  Nina ignored him. “Did you really think he’d believe somebody made a movie called Santa Claus Conquers the Martians? How dumb—”

  The picture on the TV changed to two robots and a voice-over said, “We’ll return to Santa Claus Conquers the Martians after these messages.”

  “I told you. It’s a classic.” Alex patted the floor next to him. “Come here, sweetheart, and learn what real filmmaking is. But first, get the Oreos.”

  “I don’t believe this,” Nina said, but she got the Oreos anyway and sat on the couch behind him, giggling over “Mystery Science Theater 3000” and Fred’s futile attempts to schmooze Oreos, and marveling over all the humor and warmth in her life now that Fred and Alex were part of it. The only thing her life needed now was great sex, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t part of Alex’s equation, regardless of all the careless flirting he did. Why else would he keep showing up with videos and no moves? He wanted a friendship. Fine. That was what she wanted, too.

  She looked down at the curve of his shoulder, pressed against the couch near her, and thought wistfully how nice it would be to lean down and kiss him on the neck, just to feel her lips against his skin, just to let him know she was there.

  “This is the good part,” Alex said over his shoulder, and she smiled at him and said, “This movie has nothing but good parts,” and dragged her attention back to the screen where it belonged.

  “HOW’S IT GOING with whatshername? The woman upstairs?” Max asked Alex a week later when they were both stretched out in the doctors’ lounge in broken-down easy chairs, their feet on the scarred coffee table.

  “Hey, I’m dating other women besides Nina,” Alex said, trying to sound worldly and unpathetic. “Lots of women.” Then he ruined it by adding, “Not that I’m dating Nina.”

  “If you’re not dating her,” Max asked, “how are you seeing her?”

  “We watch movies,” Alex said. “And it’s a damn good thing there are a hell of a lot of them in the world or I’d be out in the cold. Even I’m getting tired of them, but that and jogging are the only reasons I can think of to be with her.” He closed his eyes, remembering. “She stretches out on the couch behind me, and I can smell her perfume, and she laughs in my ear, and I swear to God, one of these days I’m going to jump her, and then she’ll never speak to me again.”

  “Don’t be a wuss,” Max said. “Do it.”

  “No,” Alex said. “I’m not going to screw this up. I want more than a one-night stand here. I want a multiple-night stand. And besides, I’m considering a plan. If it works out, not even Nina will think I’m a kid.”

  Max snorted. “This should be good
.”

  Alex thought of Nina again. “God, I hope so.”

  NINA AND FRED CAME running up the stairs two weeks later on a Saturday afternoon late in June, ready for their after-walk ration of one Oreo apiece, to find Charity sitting on the floor by their door.

  “It’s almost done, Neen.” Charity scrambled to her feet and yanked her blue vinyl miniskirt down with one hand while she clutched manuscript pages in the other. “Only one more chapter to go. I’ve been working on it night and day, even at the shop.”

  She hesitated, and Nina realized that she was nervous. She’d never seen Charity nervous before. “It’s going to be great,” she told Charity, moving toward her.

  Fred, already there, wiped his nose on Charity’s black stockings as a show of support.

  Charity looked down in distaste. “Don’t they make antihistamines for dogs? His snot problem is getting worse.”

  Nina took the manuscript from her. “It truly is going to be great. I’ve read the first chapters, and they’re terrific. Really interesting.”

  “I don’t know.” Charity clasped her hands together tightly. “I just don’t know. After a while, the chapters all started to sound alike.”

  Nina sighed in relief. She’d noticed that problem, too. “Well, it’ll help in the rewrite if you make Jane learn something each time,” Nina told her. “This is a first draft. You’ll get it in the rewrite.”

  Charity looked at her. “You’d be tougher on a writer you didn’t know, wouldn’t you?”

  Nina looked back at her, exasperated. “I am never tough during a first draft. You want me to beat you up, fine. But let’s get the whole book done first. Then we can look at it and see where it needs fixing. I’ll call you all the names you want then.”

  Charity shook her head. “I wish I knew somebody else to give this to. Another reader, you know? Somebody who doesn’t know me like you do. You’d like it just because I wrote it.”

  Nina flipped through the manuscript, stopping at the ninth chapter title. “Oedipus Rat?”

  Charity nodded. “That was Bob. He cheated on me with his mother. Told me he was too busy to see me and then took her to bingo. I thought it was A Sign.”