Read Online The Wedding Party by Robyn Carr - Free Book Online

department. What was worse, she had absolutely no idea why. If her father asked her one more time, “Any new prospects, honey?” shemight strangle him. As objectively as she could judge, she thought herself to be of at least average attractiveness. Oh hell, above average! She was intelligent, industrious and clean. She had a sense of humor, she read good books and, unless she was missing some vital signal, she was actually popular. She got along with everyone, on both personal and professional levels. In fact, she was one of those women who, after writing of her dilemma to Ann Landers, was likely to get the response, “If what you say about yourself is true, you’d have been snapped up years ago. There must be some little thing you’re overlooking.”
    It wasn’t like Pam to sulk. In fact, it was rare for her to give in to this sense of disappointment, this feeling that she had somehow failed. She’d stopped trying to figure out what terrible flaw she had long ago. Was this because Charlene was getting married? But that was silly. Charlene and Dennis had been together for years and, as she’d said, this was really only a formality.
    Pam had accepted that not everyone gets a partner and she knew a lot of single people who were not looking, were not trying to find a mate. She was thirty-nine and had stopped allowing herself to be set up at about thirty-five. She wasn’t interested in making man-hunting a life’s work.
    The paperwork she would take home was already packed into her briefcase. As she pulled her raincoat out of the closet, there were two short taps at the outer office door before it swung open. “Locking up, Ms. London?” Ray Vogel asked her.
    â€œAs we speak,” she said, taking her coat off its hanger.
    â€œWhoa, Ms. London,” he said, grinning. “Look at you! I always figured you for a gym rat.”
    â€œA what?” she said, laughing in spite of herself.
    â€œWow, look at that six-pack,” he said, referring to her muscled abs. “Where do you work out?”
    â€œJust a neighborhood tennis and fitness club.”
    â€œYou compete?” he asked.
    â€œMe? Get serious!” But she had an unmistakable urge to flex.
    She slipped into her coat, pulled the strap of her tote over one shoulder, gym bag over the other, followed that with her handbag strap, then grabbed up her briefcase and suit-on-a-hanger. Keys in hand, she joined him at the office door. He took the keys from her hand, eased her out the door, flicked off the lights and locked up for her. “You could compete,” he said, handing her back the keys. Then he took some of her burdens. “Come on, I’ll make sure you get to your car.”
    â€œYou don’t have to do that, Ray. I get myself there every night.”
    â€œTonight’s my treat,” he said. “You know, I could tell. That you work out. I thought about just asking, but I didn’t want to, you know, be…um…” He was clearly searching for a word.
    â€œNosy?” she supplied, humor in her voice.
    â€œThat’s not what I mean. I was working on a way to ask you if you were, you know, married. Or involved.”
    She almost dropped her suit. She stopped walking and turned toward him with a look that verged on alarm. “What?”
    He shrugged. “Married? Involved?”
    â€œWhy?” she said, confused—and very shocked.
    â€œI thought we could grab a drink some night. Maybe something to eat.” He took her elbow in hand and led her the rest of the way to the elevator. He pressed the down button. “You know, a date.”
    It was almost scary, the way he proposed this only minutes after she’d been flexing her thirty-nine-year-old muscles in front of the bathroom mirror, bemoaning her absolutely solitary life. She was going to be a long time in recovering from the sheer blow. “Are you serious? You have a thing for older