With an Extreme Burning Read Free Page B

He's a real hunk.”
    “Let's drop that subject, okay?”
    “Uh-oh. Do I detect a hint of sexual frustration?”
    “No, you don't.”
    “That's what it sounds like to me. How long has it been, anyway, since you got laid?”
    “Eileen …”
    “Come on, how long?”
    “I don't keep track of things like that,” Cecca said, which was a flat-out lie. It had been thirteen months, give or take a few days. One night with Owen Gregory. On a sudden whim or temporary brain lock … whatever you wanted to call it. After she and Owen had been to a party at Eileen and Ted's, as a matter of fact, and she'd drunk a little too much wine. It hadn't been very good. In fact, it hadn't been good at all. One-night stands weren't for her; she'd felt cheap afterward and still wasn't quite at ease in Owen's presence, even though he'd been a gentleman about the whole thing. She was a woman who needed a strong emotional attachment before she was comfortable in a sexual relationship. And since Chet, there simply hadn't been anybody. She wasn't even sure she wanted there to be anybody again. Once burned, twice shy.
    Still, Eileen was right: She was a little frustrated. You didn't lose your sex drive when you got divorced and then turned forty. And with all the things that had been wrong with her marriage to Chet, sex hadn't been one of them. Lord, no. In fact, if it hadn't been so damned good, she might have left him before he decided to leave her—and wasn't that a sad, pathetic comment on the life and mindset of Francesca Bellini?
    A busboy took their plates away. On his heels was the waiter with a dessert tray. Eileen said, “Oh, no, not for me,” and then allowed herself to be seduced into ordering a piece of Chocolate Decadence. “My friend and I will split it,” she said, and smiled at Cecca, who thought fondly: No, we won't. You'll eat the whole thing, you pig.
    When the waiter was gone, Cecca said, “Oh, I didn't tell you who I saw earlier” to forestall any more of Eileen's probing sex questions.
    “Who?”
    “Dix.”
    “You stop by his house, or what?”
    “No, he was coming out of the hardware store.”
    “How did he look?”
    “Pretty well, considering. He's lost some weight.”
    “I'd be surprised if he hadn't. Poor Dix.”
    “I think he's going to be all right.”
    “I hope so. I worry about him, rattling around in that big house all alone.”
    “It was what he wanted.”
    “What people say at funerals isn't necessarily what they mean.”
    “Dix meant it. He has a right to grieve in his own way.”
    “Well, sure he does. But I still think a person needs friends at a time like this, not isolation. If I lost Ted the way he lost Katy, I'd want a houseful of people around me every minute.”
    “I suppose I would, too,” Cecca agreed. “If it hadn't been for you and Katy when Chet walked out, I don't know what I might have done.”
    “So is Dix ready to start letting us back into his life?”
    “Soon, I think. He as much as said so.”
    “Encouraging,” Eileen said. “When are you seeing him again?”
    “I don't know, I hadn't thought about it.”
    “Don't wait around. Invite him to dinner tomorrow night.”
    “That's too soon.”
    “No it isn't. He's alone, you're alone. Two needy people. Make your move before somebody else does.”
    The waiter brought Eileen's Chocolate Decadence and two forks. She plunged into it greedily. Cecca didn't touch the second fork; she was frowning.
    “You think I'm needy?” she said.
    “Aren't you, honey?”
    “No. And even if I were, even if I were interested in Dix Mallory that way, which I'm not, Katy's been gone only three weeks. Three weeks, Eileen!”
    “The living go on living. You're not attracted to Dix?”
    “Not the way you mean, no.”
    “Well, he's always been attracted to you. The way he looks at you sometimes … I'd say he's very interested. He never made a pass at you?”
    “Dix? Don't be silly.”
    “Well, why not? He's a man, and men are horny