Mirror Image

on you, any one or all three of them would come after me with a shotgun.”
    She reached across the seat and ran her finger up his thigh, whispering, “Now, wouldn’t that be exciting?”
    He removed her hand and pushed it back across the car. “Not if you’re the target.”
    She flopped back in her seat, annoyed, and turned her head to gaze at the passing scenery. That morning she had deliberately left her car at the ranch and hitched a ride into San Antonio with her father, planning all along to stay late and finagle a ride home with Eddy. Months of subtle invitation had gotten her nowhere. Since patience had never been one of her virtues, she had decided to step up the pace of her pursuit.
    Buck, the bellhop, had lasted less than a month before he had become possessive and jealous. Then the man who had come to spray the house for cockroaches had ended up in her bed. That affair had lasted until she had discovered he was married. It wasn’t his marital status that bothered her so much as his postcoital guilt, which he morosely discussed with her. Remorse took all the fun out of fucking.
    Since the exterminator there had been an assortment of partners, but all had simply been diversions to occupy her until Eddy surrendered. She was getting tired of waiting.
    Indeed, she was getting tired of everything. The last three months had put a real strain on her generally good disposition. There had even been times when she had envied her Aunt Carole all the attention she was getting.
    While Fancy was spending interminable hours stuffing envelopes and taking telephone polls in that noisy, crowded, stinky, tacky campaign headquarters, with people who could get off on a ten-dollar contribution, Carole was being waited on hand and foot in that posh private clinic.
    Mandy was another thorn in her side. As if the little brat hadn’t always been spoiled rotten, it was even worse now since the plane crash. Just last week Fancy had been sternly reprimanded by her grandmother when she had yelled at her young cousin for eating all the Oreos.
    In Fancy’s opinion, the kid was off her beam. Her hollow, vacant eyes were damn spooky. She was turning into a zombie and, in the meantime, everybody kissed her ass.
    Her daddy had gone positively ape shit when she had gotten her most recent speeding ticket, and he had threatened to take away her car if she got another. He even warned that she would have to pay the fine out of money she earned herself. Of course her daddy’s threats never panned out, but his shouting had really gotten on her nerves.
    She couldn’t believe the fuss everyone made over that primary election. You would have thought her uncle was running for fuckin’ president the way everybody had carried on about it. He had won by a landslide, which had come as no surprise to her. She couldn’t understand why they had paid a political analyst big bucks to predict the outcome a week before the election, when she could have given it to them months ago for free. Her uncle’s smile made women cream their jeans. It didn’t matter what his speeches were about; women would vote for him on the basis of his looks. But had anyone asked her? No. Nobody asked her opinion about anything.
    Things were looking up, however. Now that the primary election was out of the way, Eddy wouldn’t have so many distractions. His mind would be freer to think about her. She had been optimistic of a successful seduction when she had first launched the project. Now she wasn’t so sure. He’d eluded her charms more adroitly than she would have guessed it was possible for a man to do. As far as she could tell, he wasn’t even close to the breaking point.
    She swiveled her head to glare at him. On the surface, at least, he looked as cool as a cucumber. She could have been as ugly as a warthog’s ass for all the attention he was paying her. Maybe it was time she threw caution to the wind, stopped pussyfooting around, and, if nothing else, shocked the shit out of Mr. Clean.
    “How ’bout a blow job?”
    Moving with studied casualness, Eddy draped his right arm along the seat backs. “Come to think of it, that would feel real good about now.”
    Heat rushed to her face. She gritted her teeth. “Don’t you dare patronize me, you son of a bitch.”
    “Then stop throwing yourself at me like a cheap streetwalker. Dirty talk doesn’t turn me on, any more than a ringside view of your chest. I’m not interested, Fancy, and this juvenile game of yours