Humiliated didn’t even begin to cover how she felt today. Hangover notwithstanding, the awful, awful realization that she’d tossed her cookies—repeatedly—in front of the sexy guy she was trying to impress? Nightmarish.
She’d just been so very uncomfortable. Rob had looked suave and dangerous in his dark suit, so out of her league. Add in the fact that her clothing had never seemed to stay in place and she had taken whatever liquid courage that wine could offer.
And then some, she thought with a groan. Gosh, she was never drinking ever again. Ever, ever, underlined and signed.
“Well, that’s not how you impress a man,” Agnes said with a sniff. “I’ve caught a lot of men over the years, and I never did it by getting drunk.”
“It’s true,” Edna said. “Agnes is a terrific flirt. You could learn a lot from her.”
Marjorie peered over her glasses at Agnes. “Really? I’ve never been good at flirting. I never know what I should be doing. What do you do?”
Edna tittered. “What doesn’t she do?”
Agnes just chuckled and pretended to fan herself.
Curious, Marjorie waved a hand at Agnes. “Go on, ’fess up! I want to know.” She really liked Rob and she wanted to be a success dating him. She wanted to be someone that he would want to know. And she had a pretty good idea that being herself wouldn’t do it for a guy as sophisticated-seeming as him. She needed to up her game.
And if Agnes had a game, Marjorie wanted to copy it.
“Well,” Agnes said in a coy voice. “You start with the basics. Wear something that tells him you’re interested.”
Marjorie blanched. “I think I have that part covered.” Because she hadn’t had any of her parts covered last night. “What else?”
“You touch his arm when you talk.” Agnes said with a nod, and leaned forward and touched Marjorie’s arm. “It creates a private moment between the two of you.”
“Oooh, that’s good.” Marjorie said, eyes widening. Arm touches. She could do that. “Tell me more.”
“Men like to feel needed, and they like to feel smart,” Agnes said smugly. “You want to impress him? Laugh at everything he says. Even if it’s not funny. Just act like he’s the wittiest, most entertaining man you’ve ever met.” She nodded at Edna. “Come on, try me.”
Edna cleared her throat, and then assumed a gruff voice in imitation of a man’s voice. “You look very well today, Agnes.”
Agnes leaned forward and gave a sultry chuckle, touching Edna’s arm. “You sweet thing.” It was amazing that she still managed to make it sound sexy despite the rasp of a heavy smoker’s voice.
Edna continued in her man’s voice. “Isn’t the weather nice today?”
Again, Agnes tittered in a flirty manner. “What, did you bring me out on a date so we could talk about the weather?”
Marjorie’s eyes widened. “Wow.”
“See,” Agnes told her, bobbing her head so fiercely that her neck gave a bit of a wobble. “You hang off of him and act like every word is gold. He’ll be so crazy over you that he won’t know which way to turn.”
“I believe it,” Marjorie said. “I wonder if I should write these down?”
“No, no. It has to be natural. Just practice before your next date.” Agnes snapped her fingers. “Oh, and I nearly forgot the most important thing.”
“What’s that?” Marjorie leaned forward, rapt. Surely there weren’t more hints about to be tossed her way? She had already learned so much just from watching Agnes in action.
“Act like you don’t know anything.”
Marjorie’s brows furrowed. “Huh?”
But Agnes gave her a wide look, her penciled-on eyebrows raising knowingly. “That’s right. If he talks about cars, you don’t know anything about them.”
“But I don’t know anything about cars—”
“And if he talks about the weather, you don’t know anything about weather. And if he talks about running a diner or anything that you do know a lot about, you don’t know anything about it. Understand me?”
“I-I guess so. I just wonder why—”
“Because a man that is in control is a happy man,” Agnes said. “Trust me.”
“You should,” Edna told Marjorie. “She knows what she’s doing. She’s had six husbands.”
Well, if that wasn’t an indicator of success, Marjorie didn’t know what was.
***
Rob texted her at five that afternoon and asked her to meet him in the lobby at seven forty-five. She texted back her confirmation, and then immediately dashed to her closet, looking for something to wear. Tight clothing, Agnes had advised. Marjorie pursed her lips and considered her limited vacation wardrobe. She’d brought things appropriate to the wedding, and she’d considered shopping today for her next date, but her hangover had nixed that idea.
She settled on skinny jeans under a blousy white shirt with big ruffled sleeves and a plunging neckline . . . and wore a tank top underneath. It wasn’t super sexy, but she tucked the tank into her jeans and ensured that it showed a lot of cleavage. It could be worse, she supposed. She considered her flats, but they’d been part of PukeFest and she’d tossed them. All her other shoes were extremely tall. Oh well. There was nothing to be done about that, was there? If he liked her pukey, maybe he’d like her tall, too. She wore the nude Louboutins, since they were her current favorite and made her feel sexy.