Got Your Number

to your new look," Angora assured Roxann. "You're going to knock his socks off."
    "Who?"
    "Whoever."
    Roxann scoffed, but Angora noticed the subtle change in her demeanor as she turned sideways and perused her whip-slim figure in brown leather pants, pink blouse, and high-heeled ankle boots. She was thinking about someone.
    Roxann tugged at the waistband. "These pants are tighter on me than on the animal that wore the hide."
    Angora grinned and turned to the clerk hovering in the background. "We'll take this outfit, and all the rest."
    "Angora, I can't let you buy all these things for me."
    "Why not? After all, you rescued me." She waved Trenton's gold American Express card. "No limit."
    She handed over the card with a flourish. Bankruptcy was too good for Trenton after what he'd done to her. Although now with Darma Walker's money, along with her dead husband's, it would take more than a shopping spree at a sub-par department store to make an impression on him. Or to relieve her own anguish.
    The rage that had hovered just beneath the surface since yesterday made her skin prickly and hot. She hated Trenton all the more for giving her what was probably a permanent nerve rash. Unable to restrain herself, she clawed at the itchy skin on her neck with the frenzy of a lapdog. Trenton didn't deserve to live happily ever after, not after destroying her life, the miserable, lying beast. And to think she'd saved herself for him, had been willing to dedicate her life to him, all because Dee had promised that he was the one for her.
    "We can get some ointment for your hives."
    She stopped mid-scratch at Roxann's voice, feeling like a ten-year-old. "I'll be fine," she said, straightening, but panicked for a few seconds, trying to remember where she was—sometimes her mind took her to another place.
    "Angora?"
    Racks of clothing, bad carpet, three-way mirrors—oh, yes, the department store. She manufactured a smile for Roxann, then disguised her raw neck with a quick flip of the collar of her new silk blouse. "Next stop—hair and makeup."
    Roxann blanched. "Huh?"
    Instantly cheered, Angora hooked her arm around her cousin's shoulder. "When we're finished, no one will be able to recognize you." At the sudden serious expression on Roxann's face, she added, "Not that you look bad now."
    "No, you're right," Roxann said slowly, smoothing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I could use a new look, at least for a little while."
    Ah, so Roxann did want to impress someone—Dr. Carl? She couldn't blame her—the man was outrageously male. She had harbored a crush on him, too, but things hadn't turned out quite the way she'd hoped. Still, it hadn't stopped her from fantasizing about him, wondering what it would be like to lose her virginity to him. Keeping her knees closed for the frat boys she dated had posed no problem because none of their fumbling kisses had piqued her interest.
    But her senior year she had found a tree-shaded bench across from the building that housed Dr. Carl's office. From her shielded vantage point, she munched on celery and cauliflower and watched him eat lunch on the steps of his building every day that the weather permitted. His routine never varied. At noon he would emerge with a brown bag, then eat a delicious-looking sandwich, a little bag of chips, and a bottle of juice, all while reading the newspaper. Not that he ever got much reading done, since every girl who walked by stopped to chat, or at least said hello. He would smile politely and nod while chewing, seemingly unaware that he had them all in a lather.
    Okay, so she had been in love with him. Every night she would mentally rehearse crossing the street and engaging Dr. Carl in a conversation so witty and entertaining that he would instantly realize they were destined for each other. Except the next day she would sit munching her Dee-directed baggie of raw vegetables, paralyzed in self-loathing while braver and more slender girls were rewarded with his magnificent smile.
    Then one day Roxann had happened by Dr. Carl's eating place, with a paper or something for him to look at. Angora had watched, burning with jealousy, as he had actually invited her cousin to sit. His delicious-looking sandwich had gone uneaten while they discussed the paper, heads together. He had talked and gestured with animation, and Roxann had hung on to every word, scribbling notes.
    After that, Roxann had appeared with more regularity, producing one paper after another that