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“Allison, wait,” Anne called, hot on her tail.
In the parking lot outside, Allison stopped and caught her breath. “Anne. I am not Jeff’s type. If he knew I had…feelings for him, it would just make him uncomfortable, and then he’d feel sorry for me, and I can’t be some object of pity, I just can’t. I could never be friends with him again. At least if we’re friends, I can see him.”
“And slowly torture yourself to death. Allison, honey, that’s no way to live.”
“You have another suggestion? Besides making a total fool of myself? I’d have to move, you know. If he rejected me, I’d have to leave Cottonwood forever.”
“Chill out, drama queen.” Anne was walking slow circles around Allison, chin in hand, looking very thoughtful.
“What? Did I spill something on myself?”
“What if I could turn you into ‘Jeff’s type’?”
“Huh? You mean, like, a makeover?”
“Yeah. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, Allison, but you don’t exactly enhance your good points.”
“You mean because I don’t wear two pounds of makeup and a push-up bra, and tease my hair like Dolly Parton? That’s not me, Annie.”
“I’m not suggesting you do any such thing. But you hide your figure under baggy clothes, and you’ve been wearing the same hairstyle since junior high.”
“I’m comfortable with myself this way.”
“Yeah, because no one notices you. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about because I’ve been there. I was a nerdy law student before I met Wade, remember? Men never looked twice at me. But one crazy night I did myself up like a country-and-western singer and went to the rodeo, and boy, did the men notice.”
“One man in particular,” Allison said with a smile, recalling Anne and Wade’s tumultuous courtship. Anne had settled on an image that was somewhat toned down from the vampy rodeo queen. But Allison had to admit, her friend was a knockout now, when before she’d been easy to overlook. “But I’m just not the girly-girl type,” Allison added.
“You say you want Jeff to make the first move,” Anne said, “but he’s never going to do that if he doesn’t notice you.”
“I could walk down the street stark naked and he wouldn’t notice. I lost sixty pounds—sixty pounds—and he never said a word.”
“That’s because you’re still wearing size sixteen clothes!”
Allison looked down at what she was wearing. “Am I that bad?”
“Frankly, yes! Let me play Professor Higgins. Maybe you’ll like it. If not, there’s nothing lost.”
Allison sighed. “Okay, if you really want to. But it won’t do any good.”
“Maybe not. But there’s a whole sea of men out there besides Jeff.”
ALLISON PACKED and repacked her suitcase, making sure she had everything in her arsenal that she would need for the convention.
Three Miracle Bras in various colors, check.
Garter belt and stockings, check.
Catch-me-kiss-me, four-inch pumps, check.
Little black dress with no back, check.
Two pounds of makeup she’d sworn she wouldn’t wear, but which made her look like a supermodel so she’d changed her mind, check.
Clingy tops two sizes too small, and pants that showed her belly-button, check.
Dangly jewelry, check.
Contraceptive devices—like she would need them—check.
As she zipped the suitcase closed, she caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror, and her heart skittered around until she realized there wasn’t a stranger in her bedroom. Anne had done a real number on her. They’d taken two evenings to accomplish the makeover, plus an evening of shopping, but the results were more than Allison had ever dreamed of.
Plain-Jane Allison was now pretty. No, she was gorgeous. A knockout. She hardly resembled the creature she’d been before. Her clothes were stylish and figure revealing, and her figure was worth revealing, taut as a bowstring but still softly curved. Her makeup enhanced her dark eyes, full lips, and sharp cheekbones.
And her hair—that was the wildest change. Anne had taken her to her favorite stylist, who had suggested golden highlights and a feathery cut that fluffed around her face. Jeez, she was almost a blonde.
People she’d known her whole life passed her on the street without a flicker of recognition. Her own patients stared at her as if she was going topless. And her parents…well, they’d been surprised to say the least. Her father, a church minister, had actually given her a brief lecture on the sins of the flesh. Her mother had nodded in agreement, then taken her aside and said, “Don’t listen to your father. He’s being a fuddy-duddy. You look fabulous. Do you think Anne might have time to show me how to do my makeup?”
Allison hadn’t run into Jeff yet, but that would soon be remedied. He was due to pick her up any minute. They were riding together to Dallas, of course, as an “engaged” couple should.
Allison tried to corral the butterflies in her stomach. How would Jeff react to the new Allison, all decked out in low-cut jeans and a snug purple crop top? Would he whistle with appreciation? Would he stare with his mouth gaping open? Would he take her in his arms and kiss her passionately?
Well, okay, that third possibility was a pretty farout fantasy. But she couldn’t wait to see what he would do.
The doorbell rang and the butterflies fluttered themselves into a frenzy. This was it, her moment of truth. If this didn’t prod Jeff into thinking of her as a desirable woman, she didn’t know what would.
She hoisted her suitcase off the bed and wheeled it to the door, where her smaller bag of toiletries was already waiting. “Coming!” she called as she found her purse, a sassy little faux-alligator bag Anne had picked out for her.
Then she held her breath and opened the door.
Oh, Lord, he looked good. But then, he always did. Even as a skinny high-schooler, his broad shoulders and burgeoning muscles had hinted of good things to come.
“Hey, Allie.” He flashed an easy smile. “Are you ready?”
“Um, yeah,” she managed, searching for telltale signs of shock on his face. But he looked perfectly passive.
He spotted her two bags and reached for them. “I’ll get these.” He loped back out to his car, popped the trunk with a button on his key chain and stashed her luggage alongside his. “Hey, we have matching bags.”
“Bought mine on sale at the outlet mall.” She wasn’t sure how she managed to assemble words and phrases into coherent sentences, but she must have been doing all right, because Jeff didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
And that was just the problem, wasn’t it? she thought with a wave of despair. Her big plan was a big, fat failure. She had changed everything about her appearance, and Dr. Jeff Hardison didn’t even notice.
Chapter Two
Jeff drove along the interstate toward Dallas feeling inexplicably happy. He didn’t particularly enjoy conventions. He wasn’t big on strange hotel beds and banquet food. But he hadn’t been out of Cottonwood for a while, and he supposed the idea of getting away for a few days was appealing.