“Sympathy always works,” Barbara said thoughtfully. “I’ve read lots of romances where the turning point in the relationship comes when either the hero or the heroine becomes ill or is seriously hurt.”
For a moment, Stephanie actually believed her friends were about to suggest she came down with the mumps or chicken pox just so she could garner Jonas’s sympathy.
“I’ve got a cousin who works for an orthopedic surgeon. He could put a cast on Stephanie so Mr. Lockwood would think she had a broken leg.” Again Barbara glanced around the table, wanting the others’ reactions.
In her mind, Stephanie could see herself hobbling to and from work for weeks in a plaster cast up to her hip while she carried out this ridiculous charade. She couldn’t very well arrive the next day without the cast and announce to everyone that a miracle had occurred.
“No go.” She nixed that plan before the four could endorse it and she ended up in a body cast without ever knowing how it happened. “What’s wrong with me inviting him over to my apartment for dinner?”
“It’s so obvious,” Barbara groaned.
“And the rest of your ideas aren’t?”
“Now something like that just might work,” Jan said thoughtfully, chewing on the end of her index finger. “It’s not brilliant, but it has possibilities.”
“There’s only one problem,” Stephanie informed her friends, remembering the charred pot roast from the night before. “I’m not much of a cook.”
“That’s not a problem. You could hire a chef to come in, and Mr. Lockwood need never know.”
“Isn’t that a bit expensive?” Stephanie could visualize the balance in her checkbook rapidly reaching the point of no return.
“It’s worth a try.” Barbara rapidly discounted Stephanie’s concern.
“What was your idea, Toni?” Everyone had revealed their schemes except the small brunette.
She shrugged. “Nothing great—I thought you might ‘accidentally on purpose’ meet Mr. Lockwood by the elevator sometime. You could strike up a casual conversation and let matters follow their natural course.”
“But Steph could end up spending the entire workday hanging around the elevator,” Barbara said, her voice raised at what she considered an unreasonable plan.
“Not only that,” Jan added, “but who’s to say that the elevator will be empty? She’d look too obvious if there were other people aboard.”
Stephanie’s gaze flew from one intent face to the other. “I like that scheme best.”
“What?” Three pairs of shocked eyes shot to Stephanie.
“Well, for heaven’s sake! With the rest of your ideas, I’m either going to have to subject myself to Bertha Westheimer’s scrutiny, date Barbara’s brother-in-law, sheath my body in plaster or deplete my checking account to hire a chef to cook for me. Toni’s idea is the only one that makes any sense.”
“But you suggested inviting him to dinner,” Jan informed her.
Maureen folded her hands on the table top and studied Stephanie through narrowed eyes. “You know, it suddenly dawned on me that you’re not fighting us anymore, Steph.”
“No,” she said and reached for her coffee, curving her fingers around the cup. She took a drink and when she set it back down, she noted that the four had become silent.
“In fact, if you’ve noticed, she’s even adding her own ideas.” Jan’s look was approving.
“Could it be that you’ve come to have some feelings for Mr. Lockwood?” Barbara asked.
“It could be that I find the man a challenge.”
“It’s more than that,” Toni said quietly. “I noticed when you first joined us this morning that there was something different about you.”
It shows, Stephanie mused, a bit irritated.
“What do you feel for Mr. Lockwood?”
“I’m not completely sure yet,” Stephanie admitted honestly. “He makes me so angry I could shake him.”
“But...”
“But then, at other times, he looks at me and we share a smile and I want to melt on the inside.” She knew her eyes must have revealed her feelings, because the others grew even quieter.
“Could you see yourself married to him?”
Stephanie didn’t need to think twice about that. “Yes.” They’d argue, and disagree, and challenge each other—that was a given—but the loving between them would be exquisite.
The unexpected shout of joy that followed her announcement nearly knocked Stephanie out of her chair. “Good grief, be quiet,” she cried, her hand over her heart. “We’re a long way from the altar.”
“Not nearly as far as you think, honey,” Barbara said with a wide, knowing grin. “Not nearly as far as you think.”