Made For Sex Read Free

fifteen years ago: medium brown and average, average, average.” Carla looked Ronnie over carefully. “What in the world have you been doing for the last fifteen years?”
    â€œMore than you can possibly imagine.” Ronnie looked at the two cars and waved her hand. “You know, this seems relatively minor. Listen. Where were you off to?”
    â€œMinor?” There had to be thousands of dollars’ worth of damage. You couldn’t have an accident that didn’t cost thousands these days. “I was going home to Bronxville—where I live now.”
    â€œThat’s silly. Now that we’ve found each other let’s not lose track again. Why don’t we park here and have lunch? We can catch up on all those years. And, anyway, I’m starved.”
    â€œWeren’t you going somewhere?”
    â€œI have an appointment at two,” Ronnie said, glancing at her gold Cartier watch, “but that gives us over an hour, and there’s a great little Italian place down the block.”
    When Carla hesitated, Ronnie’s voice dropped. “Please. I’d love the company and we have so much to catch up on.”
    The parking lot attendant ran up waving his hands, trying to clear the entranceway. “You’ll have to move these cars,” the uniformed man yelled.
    Ronnie’s voice was soft, yet authoritative. “If you’ll wait just a moment, Tom, we’ll be out of the way.” She turned to Carla and said, “I’m in this neighborhood a lot. I used to park here all the time but I’ve found a less expensive place around the corner.”
    As Ronnie returned to her car, Carla climbed into her Ford and backed up. The cars separated and Carla noticed that the damage to the Cadillac was less than she’d expected. Just a nasty dent and some chipped paint. She’d have to examine her car, but since the bumper had been the point of contact she thought it should be okay.
    â€œOver here,” Tom said. “Back it right over here.” He waved Carla into one parking space and Ronnie drove into the one next to it.
    As she climbed out, Ronnie said, “We’ll be a few hours, Tom.” She leaned into the passenger seat to grab a fashionable bag that Carla knew had to be either a Fendi or a great knockoff and slung the chain strap over her shoulder. Carla reached through the open passenger window of the Ford and grabbed her ersatz leather purse and camel-colored wool jacket. She slipped her arms in the sleeves and buttoned the blazer over her denim-blue-and-white striped shirt.
    â€œOh, Carla, this is so wonderful,” Ronnie said. She looked at the front end of Carla’s car. “Not bad,” Ronnie said. “Looks like you got out of this little accident with almost no damage at all.”
    Carla nodded and wrapped her arm around Ronnie’s waist. “I’m so glad I ran into you.” She laughed. “Literally.”
    â€œMe too. This way.” Ronnie led Carla under a small awning that proclaimed the restaurant to be The Villa Luigi. As they entered, Carla inhaled the enticing odor of garlic, oregano, and olive oil. They were shown to a quiet table in the back. “Give us a bottle of your Ruffino and some garlic bread,” Ronnie told the waitress who seated them. As she left, Ronnie laughed. “Remember the night we got a gallon of jug-red and drank it with an entire package of Oreos with Double Stuff?”
    â€œAll I remember is how sick we were the next morning. I had to hold onto the floor to keep from falling off.”
    â€œAnd I puked my guts up for over an hour.” The two women laughed. “Tell me what’s new with you now,” Ronnie said.
    Carla took a deep breath. “Well, I was married for almost nine years but Bill was killed in a car accident almost five years ago.”
    â€œI’m so sorry.”
    â€œWell…. Bill wasn’t exactly Prince Charming.