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her eyes at him.
    "Who are you?"
    His eyebrows formed an unconvincing V over his oh-so-concerned eyes. "Sophie, are you okay? I'm Biff Cornwall. You turned me down flat a few weeks ago?"
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    Sophie's Playboy
    by Natalie Damschroder
    "I know who you are. I mean, I know who I know you are.
    But are you someone else, too?" God, she sounded like Darlene the Dimwit. But she refused to get flustered and because she maintained eye contact, she saw a flash of maybe-guilt in Biff's eyes.
    "Have you been calling my show?"
    He shrugged. "Have you had any callers named Biff?"
    It was a non-answer, but Sophie didn't feel inclined to pursue it. If she didn't, she could hold on to the illusion of an exciting stranger at least a little longer.
    "Why won't you have dinner with me, Sophie?" His voice was low in the deepening twilight and she shivered again. It drew his attention to her chest, where her flimsy dress clearly exhibited her hardened nipples. The shiver worked its way downward, a phenomenon new to Sophie. She fought the urge to accept his invitation and explore these new sensations.
    "I told you, Biff, you're not my type." Maybe he wouldn't hear the wistfulness in her voice, she thought. She hugged her arms as the breeze picked up. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going back to my date." She turned back toward the building.
    "Your date has abandoned you for a twenty-two-year-old socialite." Biff dropped his jacket over Sophie's arms and she instantly warmed. His scent wafted up from the expensive fabric and she couldn't help but inhale deeply. She couldn't date someone whose scent she didn't like.
    She loved Biff's scent.
    His hand pressed her gently toward a marble bench. "Sit with me a minute."
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    Sophie's Playboy
    by Natalie Damschroder
    "Why?" But she sat.
    He shrugged. "Just to enjoy the night."
    The garden was silent and Sophie acknowledged that it was nicer to be out here with someone than to be here alone.
    Biff stretched out his legs in front of him. Sophie leaned her folded arms on her crossed knees and wondered how the hell she could find a penny loafer and black dress sock sexy.
    "So tell me how you got to be a VP at such a young age,"
    Biff said.
    She pushed back her usual annoyance at the question.
    She'd heard it way too often. "It's a young company," she said. "MMT was a technology startup before technology startups were cool. Luckily, Dave and Chuck had some business savvy and built a strong company instead of playing around with other people's money."
    Biff snorted and she wondered if he thought that was a dig at him. Well, it could have been, so she smiled over her shoulder and continued. "I started out in customer service, an area that has very high turnover. I moved up to manager in only six months when our old manager defected to a competitor. I was good at appeasing people, so they just kept promoting me. Which meant.... "She paused when he leaned forward and took her hand. Just lightly held her fingers between his fingertips and thumb, but enough to set off a sparkler in her hand.
    "Which meant," he continued, "more and more of the same old stuff."
    "Right." Hm. He was insightful. Interesting twist on the playboy stereotype. "And it got old. Very old."
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    Sophie's Playboy
    by Natalie Damschroder
    "Which is why you now Rant and Rave," he finished for her, making her think again that he probably was her favorite caller.
    "Now I Rant and Rave. You listen?"
    "I caught a show."
    "What did you think?" For some reason, his answer was more important than any of the people's inside.
    He shrugged. "It has potential. Maybe people will call you instead of shooting guns on the freeway."
    "I hope so. I also hope the second half of the show will help people focus on the positive."
    "If they listen that long."
    She frowned. "What do you mean?"
    "People tend to listen to the carping and ignore the gushing."
    "My callers do not gush!"
    He just looked at her. Sophie remembered one woman on her second show who called about her