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dreams would somehow convert him to that before her very eyes? Come on, now, Carrie, wake up—and join the twenty-first century!
    Besides, the man was already making plans to move to the Caymans. More than a stone’s throw from Virginia. This little charade between them involving her shower and his reunion next weekend was all she had. And Carrie St. John and her woebegone heart would do very well to remember that.

    Mike took a running dive into the crystal clear waters of the pool, thinking that things weren’t going quite as swimmingly with Carrie St. John as he’d planned. He was glad she’d agreed to go to his reunion. More than glad—ecstatic, actually—that a stunning woman like her would help him save face with his friends. And he didn’t mind stepping into Wilson’s shoes for her bridal shower one bit. What bothered him was the make-believe element to their whole affair. It was definitely a screwy way to begin a relationship. Non-relationship, he reminded himself, as per Carrie’s instructions.
    For anybody else, it would have been the perfect setup. He’d make out like a bandit at his high school reunion—no strings attached. But, for Mike, who felt an inexplicable yearning to stay by Carrie’s side in a much more than fraternal fashion, the whole picture rotted—big-time.
    Plus, it really seemed like an unfair trade. Carrie’s shower, after all, was only a mere couple of hours out of one afternoon. His reunion, on the other hand, was an entire weekend-long extravaganza. Of course, he hadn’t quite told her that—yet. But he would. Just not until after she’d been sufficiently impressed with the way he’d wowed her family and friends. Then, she’d feel beholden — at least in some small way — and would still agree to come to his rescue. Even if it involved a fancy dinner and a Sunday afternoon picnic.
    Yeesh! This was where having gone to a private school most definitely paid. Nothing that Ashton Academy did was anything less than first-class. And Carrie St. John was definitely a first-class kind of girl. Mike would be the envy of every man in that room, he thought with a smile as he stroked his way across the pool. Heck, if only it weren’t such a big illusion, he’d even be the envy of his own former self!

    Carrie turned in the mirror and studied the cellulite on her thighs. What had she been thinking? Telling Mike she might possibly join him for a swim? These thunder thighs weren’t going anywhere except for maybe into a pair of shorts. A pair of very long, very modestly proportioned shorts, Carrie thought, rifling through her suitcase.
    But if Mike was supposedly nothing more than a friend, what was she all hellfire worried about? Friends didn’t dump friends over a pair of weighty thighs. Friendship was based on other things, like mutual respect. Common interests and goals…
    Carrie sat heavily on the bed. She certainly hadn’t known Mike long enough to get a handle on the interests part, but she and the “swim god” definitely shared common goals. Though she hadn’t dared tell him so, the ideal he was after wasn’t really so far from her own. Except for the Cayman Islands part. The Caymans! Ironically enough, an investor’s heaven. One of her business associates in New York had been pressing Carrie to open up a bank there for almost a decade. But Carrie had always preferred to channel her funds into more personal ventures. It was helping out entrepreneurs that gave her the most satisfaction. Small businesses, start-up operations like this country inn here.
    Then again, the Caymans did hold possibilities… Not the least of which stood about six foot two and had the perfect smattering of dark blond hair on its chest.
    Carrie walked to the bathroom and threw some cold water on her face. She was losing her mind! Losing it completely! Actually considering the notion…
    Now, for a vacation, maybe.
    Carrie smiled into the mirror at visions of her and a very oiled-up Mike Davis