F.M.P. Society

by Dakota Cassidy

  “There aint nobody out of your league, honey, but Ruby knows you’re savin’ yourself for Mr. Booty-licious.”

  Cara felt the warmth creep across her cheeks and it wasn’t because of the tray full of chipped beef on toast she was lugging around.

  Ruby nudged her with her broad hip. “Speaking of the man himself, look out, cuz here he comes, sugar.”

  Cara’s stomach churned with fear, anticipation, and those damn butterflies doing a jig. Taking a deep, relaxing breath, she looked down at her shoes. They really did match whatever she wore. Her feet tingled, sending warm shafts of heat right down to her toenails. To anyone else they might look like the kind of shoes a nurse would wear, boring, white, institutional shoes.

  But Cara knew differently, and that power lent her the confidence she needed to jump on in.

  Just one night.

  She ran a trembling hand over her uniform and looked up with a smile on her face.

  Her gaze met the most incredible pair of chocolate brown eyes on the face of the earth and they crinkled at the corners. Please do not let me make an ass of myself. Be charming and seductive.

  “Hi, what can I get for you?” There ya go, Cara, entice him with your wit.

  “Hi, yourself. I think I’ll pass on the chipped beef, how about an egg salad on whole wheat?” He grinned at her.

  How about I bear your firstborn? “Egg salad, huh? Sure, but I’ll have to go in the back to get it. Egg salad is pretty popular on chipped beef day.”

  His laughter rumbled from deep within his chest. Her legs felt like Jell-O. “Sure, I can wait.”

  “Why don’t you go sit down, honey,” Ruby cut in, shooing him away. “She’ll bring it to you. Go ahead, sugar,” she said to Cara. “I’ll take care of the line. It’s pretty quiet today, anyway.” Cara scurried to the big refrigerator and grabbed another tray of egg salad on whole wheat. She raced back to the dining room just in time to see Alexander sit down with a group of people. Damn. She squared her shoulders as she crossed the room.

  “Here you go, egg salad on whole wheat.” Cara dropped the sandwich in front of him, turning to leave, but someone grabbed her wrist. She gazed down at the slug sitting next to Alexander. His slicked back hair had flakes of dandruff, she noted, as she peered at his scalp.

  “Hey, are you new here?” Turning, she tugged her wrist back from Mr. Confident.

  “No, I’m not new.” Asshole.

  “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before and I know I wouldn’t have missed you.” He wiggled his unibrow at her.

  Ick.

  “Well, then, you must not have been paying very close attention.” Slimeball.

  “Oh, I always pay attention. But somehow you slipped through the cracks. So let’s make up for lost time. Why don’t you have a seat with me and we’ll get to know each other.” He ogled her newly pert, miracle-bra encased breasts.

  Mighty generous of you, Rico Suave. “Of course you know me and if you don’t, I know you.” Cara smiled at him enjoying her first attempt at playing mysterious. She watched Alexander smother a smile, from the corner of her eye.

  “Well, how do you know me?” He chuckled smugly.

  “Gee, it’s so funny you don’t remember. I remember it clearly. We met over lasagna.” Dipshit.

  “Lasagna?” His unibrow shot upward as he cocked his head in thought.

  “Yeah. We didn’t have anymore and that got you pretty upset. Don’t you remember screaming at me? Let me see,” pulling her hand away, she tapped her finger to her chin, “something about average customer stats and food quantities based on that average was what you ranted about.”

  Unibrow boy squirmed in his seat. “Oh. Well, maybe I can make it up to you. Whaddya say you give me your number and I’ll give you a ring-a-ling. Maybe we could get together for a drink?”

  Not before you tarred and feathered my cellulite-riddled ass and dragged me, buck naked down the street in broad daylight. “Um, I don’t think so, but thanks anyway.”

  “Well, why not?” He sat back, crossed his arms over his chest and waited for an answer.

  Cause you’re a stupid head? “Because I’m busy.”

  He ran a hand over her arm. “How can you be too busy for me?”

  Whew, he’d been sniffing too much of his own personal stash of “I am fabulous cologne”. I will always be too busy for you, loser. “I have work to do—”

  “Wait,” he stood to stop her from leaving. Cara peered at the front of his button down shirt, cringing at the thick hair sprouting from the top of the opening at his neck. Eeeeuuuwww.

  Alexander rose from his chair and pressed between them, intercepting Unibrow, his broad back almost touching Cara’s nose.

  She inhaled the heady scent of man, letting it linger in her nostrils. She closed her eyes and simply savored it.

  Alexander placed a large hand on unibrow’s shoulder, towering over him. “The lady said she was busy. Know why she’s busy, Carlton?”

  Carlton, huh? So that was his name, Cara rather favored unibrow. Wait, why was she busy? She was glad Alexander couldn’t see the perplexed look on her face. Peeking around his broad back she watched as Carlton cringed from the grip Alexander had on his shoulder. Carlton took one last stab at saving his manhood. He narrowed his eyes at Alexander.

  “Why’s she busy, Mackenzie?”

  “‘Cause she’s going out with me, so lay off, Casanova,” he ground out, giving Carlton a firm shove. Carlton scurried out of the cafeteria without a backward glance. The rest of the table joined him.

  Cara’s knees buckled and her stomach did a backflip. She was not, either. He was being honorable, gallant. Jesus Christ in a miniskirt. Just the possibility of a date with him made her tingle everywhere.

  Speak, Cara, say, “Thank you very much you, stud muffin. Now can we have wild sex with your pistol of passion? My place or yours?” Cara shook off the afterglow of a man taking up for her and scooted around Alexander’s big body.

  She stuck her hand out. “Um…thank you very much Mr. Mackenzie.” She smothered a groan. Mr. Mackenzie? Was that any way to address the man you planned to boink the life out of?

  His thick hand enveloped hers. “You’re very welcome, Cara, is it? Call me Alex. I think we should at least go by first names seeing as we’re a couple now, don’t you?”

  His warm smile gave Mary Lou Retton a reason to do a set of cartwheels in her belly. His brown eyes were like swirling pools of dark chocolate. Warm and inviting they peered down at her while he held her hand in a firm grip.

  “Yes, I’m Cara. You didn’t have to do that, Mr.—I mean, Alex. But thanks for rescuing me.” She turned to get back to work, but he wouldn’t let go of her hand. Her heart sped up and her throat went dry.

  “Wait, I meant it when I said we’ll be busy. Why don’t we have dinner together tonight?” Oh, that tenor that rumbled through her insides and set her nipples to scraping against the fabric of her uniform.

  Tonight? Oh, hell. Didn’t she have to watch a Law and Order rerun? Polish the stovetop? Clean the wax out of her ears?

  What kind of crack are you smoking? You’ve been waiting for what seems like a lifetime for this guy to ask you out and you want to clean ear wax? Good gravy, the voice in her head was right.

  Damn straight I’m right. Now quit being a coward and say yes to the nice man. Be confident, mysterious, and maybe even sexy.

  Cara straightened her shoulders, allowing her breasts to thrust forward just a smidge. She felt like an idiot. No, No, you look great.

  “Well, what did you have in mind, Alex?” She conjured up the image of Glamazon number one in her head and did the provocative smile she’d been taught.

  “I had dinner in mind.” He chuckled, letting go of her hand.

  Arghhhh. God, she sucked at this coy cute thing. “I meant—where?”

  “Wherever you’d like, I’ll let you choose, okay? I’ll pick you up after work.”

  “Here?” She didn’t have anything she
could change into for dinner here!

  “Here, at your place, wherever. I don’t care, I just want to spend the evening with you.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, his hair tickling her face. “It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time now.”

  Whoa. Her libido shifted into full throttle. Cara swallowed hard and leaned further into his solid frame. She let her breasts brush lightly across his thickly muscled chest while she rested a hand on his shoulder. Hah! How’s that for flirting? Supermodels, take cover, Cara Anthony has been unleashed!

  “How about I meet you back here around seven?”

  He squeezed her arm lightly and grazed her cheek with his lips. “Seven is great. I’ll see you then.”

  Holy date from heaven.

  Cara stood rooted to the floor, immobile and dumbfounded. The lunch crowd had disappeared somewhere between her encounter with unibrow and dinner with Alex at seven. The cafeteria was empty, but for Ruby, who sidled up to Cara with a foolish grin on her round face.

  “Now, look at you, would ya? Mr. Booty-licious is yours for the takin’. Girl, you move fast.”

  “Fast, Ruby?” Cara snickered, “I’m like molasses uphill in the winter time. I’ve been here almost a year and now he discovers me?”

  Ruby shrugged her shoulders. “Could be you didn’t want to be discovered ‘til now. But you’ve been discovered all right.” She cackled and pinched Cara’s cheeks. “Now you go finish up. I won’t have you late for your night out with the hunk. The only thing I want from you is details, miss.”

  She hugged Ruby for all she was worth. “Before I do that, wanna tell me where the hell I should suggest we eat. It’s not like I get out much, ya know, Rube? I mean, I eat cheese in a can for dinner.” Cheese in a can made her think of the fabulous triplets. She smiled. She couldn’t wait to tell them what happened!

  “C’mon, sugar lips,” She swatted Cara on the butt. “I’ll give ya some of Ruby’s suggestions for fine dining experiences, and how to avoid the places that serve cheese in a can.” Cara giggled at Ruby’s shudder.

  No processed cheese in a jar tonight.

  * * * * *

  Alex gnawed on a pencil while his thoughts drifted to Cara Anthony. It had taken a while but he’d finally done it. He’d asked her out and she’d said yes. His groin tightened with anticipation over spending the evening with her. He looked down at his crotch, mentally scolding his overactive cock.

  She said yes to a date, friend, not wild, uninhibited sex. Well, his gear didn’t seem to care what she said. It wanted her. Hard and fast, long and slow, anyway she’d have him.

  Slow and steady wins the race, he reminded himself. He’d never experienced an attraction as intense as this. It rocked him to the core. Left him with a cold trail of sweat dripping down his back. He couldn’t remember when he hadn’t wanted Cara Anthony, but today she’d knocked him for a loop.

  He’d realized from the start that she was more than just a pretty face. Her warm sincerity and genuine love of people showed in every damn ham sandwich she served. But today…Well, today she was a walking wet dream. He couldn’t put his finger on why she seemed different. She just was.

  It was the catalyst that sent him into overdrive and made him ask her out. That, and that freak of nature, Carlton. Carlton’s slimy hands on her sent his temper soaring. But he almost couldn’t blame Carlton for taking notice. Something about Cara today was more open, freer.

  Hell yes, you can blame him, his ego scolded. Cara was going to be his, not Carlton’s, or anybody else’s. Alex had spent the better part of a year dating other women while he silently lusted for Cara. Women who loved his money, women who thought marrying him would buy them the things they needed to make them happy, women who wouldn’t stick around very long if his money wasn’t a part of the deal.

  Cara must know he was wealthy, but it didn’t seem to make her fall all over him. She’d hardly said a word to him in almost a year, except for; “Would you like bacon or sausage?”

  It fascinated him. She fascinated him.

  Again, his cock twitched against his zipper. Leaning back in his chair he closed his eyes and visualized Cara Anthony, naked and willing beneath him.

  * * * * *

  “I’m home,” Cara yelled as she threw her purse on the coffee table, waiting for The BEAST to greet her. Where the hell were the fabulous triplets? Weren’t they supposed to stick around and help her get her man? For that matter, where was The BEAST? She paused for a moment in the fading light of her apartment. What the hell was she thinking? She was looking for fairy godmothers, who had at one time claimed to be supermodels. She’d rushed home to tell her fairy godmothers, she’d snared a date with Alex.

  Her fairy godmothers, being the key, “looney-toons” phrase here. Hellloooo, Cara. You really are desperate if you believe that these women exist.

  Then explain the shoes. She had no explanation. None, except maybe she was teetering on the brink of utter insanity. This shoe thing had all happened so quickly, that she couldn’t seem to make the math work in her head. One plus one was making three here. Loneliness was making a mockery of her nice, tidy world.

  She headed down the hallway to her bedroom where she found her fairy godmothers, all right. Curled up on the bed, eye masks firmly in place, snoring softly in the darkened bedroom. The BEAST heard her enter and lazily stretched his plump body between them. Even her cat wanted to sleep with a supermodel. She scrunched her eyes shut again, then, opened them. They were still there, pretty as a picture.

  She flipped on the light, “Hey, it’s five thirty—how can you be asleep at five thirty in the evening?” Groans came from beneath a pillow. She shook a long, tanned leg.

  “Besides, I have some news,” she taunted, pulling the comforter off the trio of still forms.

  Simone sat straight up, her beautiful face flushed with sleep and nary a hair out of place. “News? Do tell us, darling, everything, all the details.”

  Cara squeezed in between them on her belly. “I think we did it.”

  Katia yanked off her eyemask. “You’re going out with him, aren’t you?”

  Mia squealed, scaring The BEAST, sending him flying out of the room.

  Cara beamed, “Yup.”

  “Spit it out now. Tell all, all the details, I mean the works.”

  She relayed the afternoon’s events to them, while they grinned as if they were at a weight watchers meeting held at McDonalds.

  “Well, sugarplum, I hate to tell you I told you so—but I told you so.” Katia tweaked Cara’s cheeks for emphasis.

  “Now the big question is what do I wear?”

  Mia hugged Cara. “I have the perfect dress. Go take a shower, I’ll get it ready.” As everyone scattered off to begin preparation for the “big event”, Cara had to smile over the irony of this being just that…an “event”.

  It was rather pitiful Cara decided, as she soaped her body that a date had become an “event” in her life. It wasn’t like she’d never had a date, per se. More like there had been some pretty long, dry spells in between. Okay, so she hadn’t had a date in a couple of years. Usually they were so informal you couldn’t really even call them dates. Just a body to share a meal or a movie with. Definitely no one who excited her the way Alex did.

  Her nipples tightened as she soaped them, visualizing Alex’s hands on her. Just one night was all she was asking. She could die happy…really, really happy.

  Men like Alex didn’t want someone as uncultured as she was for the long haul. They wanted women who could dine in fine restaurants, not a woman who worked in a cafeteria, putting together egg salad sandwiches all day. She could live with that. She would just remove herself from the game of love, and stick to her strictly sex theory.

  One night only.

  Thank you, fairy godmothers in heaven, for those shoes. They were her ticket to a fantasy she might never have fulfilled otherwise and she wasn’t taking them off, no matter what. She wasn’t giving them back ‘til they pried the
m from her cold, dead feet either.

  As she climbed out of the shower and began to towel her hair dry, she wondered how comfortable she’d be when the shoes changed to heels. Cara couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a pair of heels. F.M.P. pumps to be precise, she reminded herself.

  Well, here went nothin’.

  * * * * *

  Primped, fluffed and ready to rumble, it was now six-thirty, and Cara was beginning to think maybe this hadn’t been such a brilliant idea. How did you have sex with a guy you fed breakfast to everyday and worked in the same building with and act like you didn’t know him in the carnal sense?

  You keep it under your hat and enjoy the moment while it lasts.

  Cara wiggled her feet. Feet that now donned her fabulously red pumps. They sparkled occasionally, if the light hit them just right. They really were pretty comfortable. She stood, testing them out with nary a wobble. It was like walking on air.

  She gave herself a critical once over as she smoothed the crimson dress over her hips. The clingy material fell to the middle of her thighs, swishing around her legs and showing off her bare skin. Who would have thought red would be her color? The girls all assured her she looked great. Of course, that was easy for them to say, they could throw compliments around like they changed their underwear. They were beautiful.

  “Enough of the analyzing. Just go with the moment and enjoy it, huh?” Simone hugged her tightly.

  “Easy for you to say. Hot men must have approached you all the time. No male who was even lukewarm wanted to go out with me.”

  “This ‘pretty’ thing has you too wound up.” Simone held up her slender hand to quiet Cara. “I know you think it’s easy, but like, did you ever consider that the confidence you show on the outside is what’s important? It’s not about your waist size. It’s about the size of your heart.”

  God, the Dr. Phil speech again. Spoken like a true beauty queen. “Sure, Simone, my waist size has nothing to do with it. It’s all about my heart. If it was all about my heart, how is it that he didn’t notice me until today? He’s had a year to see my heart, but I’ll be damned if I can remember him mentioning it.” Cara cocked her eyebrow at Simone. Take that, Barbie!