“Five thirty is good. Are you going to tell me what we are doing?” she asked him.
“I was thinking that golf game Americans play that has the all the different obstacles,” Fane answered.
Jacquelyn giggled at his description and Fane grinned, glad he could make her laugh, even if it was at his expense.
“You mean putt-putt. That sounds like fun. Are you going to be in my head anymore today?” she asked him.
Fane’s voice was very soft and intimate when he answered, “Do you want me to be in your head, Luna?”
Fane felt Jacquelyn respond to his voice. When she answered, even her thoughts sounded breathless. “I um, I don’t know.”
“I will take that as a yes and you can tell me to leave at anytime. Talk to you later, meu inimă,” Fane said to her sweetly.
“Bye,” was all Jacquelyn could manage to get out.
“Hello, earth to Jacque,” Sally said as she snapped her fingers in front of her friend's face.
Finally Jacque turned her head to Sally, looking quite spacey and out of it and said, “I’m in trouble.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jen asked her as she sat in the floor painting her toenails. She'd apparently found Jacques nail polish and, as always, helped herself.
“I was just talking to Fane and his voice got all sensual on me and it was like…”
Jacque didn’t know how to finish so Jen offered up, “Phone sex, virtual mind sex, I would say sex on a stick put that really only applies to Dove ice cream bars.”
“Jen, paint your toenails,” Sally ordered.
Jen stuck her tongue out , but obeyed.
“I could so fall hard for this tasty Romanian,” Jacque told them.
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Just make sure it’s not a rebound from the whole Trent thing,” Sally told her honestly.
“I hear what you’re saying, Tonto,” Jacque told her with a smile.
“So what’s the plan for the whole date thing?” Jen asked.
Jacque thought about Fane’s cute description of putt-putt. She was actually looking forward to it, she hadn’t been in a long time.
“He’s picking me up at five thirty and taking me to putt-putt. I think it will be interesting to see a Romanian hottie play something he didn’t even know the name for,” Jacque told them.
“He didn’t know what putt-putt was called,” Jen laughed, “that’s awesome.”
“It’s the little things, Jen, the little things,” Sally told her.
Jacque spent the day discussing various scenarios for her evening with Fane. Naturally, all of Jen’s included vivid make out scenes and somehow always ended with their clothes off. She truly was a piece of work. You can’t help but love her, Jacque thought.
At three thirty, Sally and Jen sat Jacque down on the edge of her bed and began pulling various options of outfits to wear. She decided right away that a skirt or sun dress was out because of riding the motorcycle. Finally she was down between a pair of jeans with holes in various places and “Daisy Duke” shorts that looked worn out, only they weren’t because that was how she bought them. She had already decided on a hunter green, spaghetti strap shirt with various sparkly designs on it.
“Just go with the jeans,” Jen said. “They’re sexy in a bad ass kind of way and they'll help keep your skin intact if you're in a motorcycle wreck.” Sally glared at Jen. “What? I’m just saying,” Jen defended.
“Yeah, I think I will go with the jeans. They leave something to the imagination,” Jacque decided.
“Okay, hair up or down?” Sally asked.
“I’m thinking down for the motorcycle ride because of the helmet. It's putt-putt, Sal, no need for a French twist,” Jacque told her. “I’m just gonna wear my green flip flops.” Jacque hated wearing shoes and if they weren’t required she avoided them, just another of her weird quirks.
She took a shower while her two best friends picked out eye shadow for her to wear. When she got back to her room they had Jen’s phone hooked up to her computer speakers and were jamming to Lynard Skynard. Jacque just shook her head at them. She got dressed and then Sally pushed her down into her desk chair and went to work on her unruly hair while Jen started on her eyes. “Man, I’ve got good friends,” Jacque thought to herself, not for the first time.
By the time they were finished with it was five. Sally and Jen looked spun her in a circle to see their finished product. Then they looked at each other, bumped fists, and said at the same time, “Damn, we’re good.”
“I would have to agree, ladies. Ya’ll are fantastic. Thank you both so much,” Jacque told them.
“Oh, hell no. Don’t go getting all sentimental on us. If you mess up the work I did on your eyes I will not hesitate to kick your butt between your shoulders,” Jen said sternly.
“I love you too, Jen,” Jacque said sarcastically.
“Are you nervous?” Sally asked her.
“If I said I wasn’t I'd be lying. But I would also be lying if I didn’t say I was absolutely beyond excited,” Jacque told them.
“Why do you say that?” Jen asked in a rare moment of seriousness.
“I wish I could tell you guys this without ya’ll thinking I’m a total nut, but no matter how I put it, it’s still going to sound crazy,” Jacque admitted.
“Um, Jac, hate to point this out, but two days ago you told us you were hearing a voice in your head,” Sally told her.
Jacque looked thoughtful for a moment. “Point taken,” she agreed.
“Okay, well I don’t know quite how to explain it, but I feel like I belong with him, like I have always belonged with him. Now that I've been close to him it’s like a part of my soul was missing and now I have it back,” Jacque explained.
“That is so romantic,” Sally said dreamily.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Jen said. “Spend time with him, get to know him, and see if he feels the same way.”
Jacque and Sally looked at each other in shock. “Jen, did you just suggest something that didn’t involve wild making out, clothes coming off, and is comparable to the car scene in Titanic?” Sally asked incredulously.
“You didn’t let me finish. Then after you get to know one another, seal the deal with a steamy make out scene on the motorcycle, like in Top Gun. Ahhh, see? There is always a time and place for lip locking, hand roaming, and good ol' fashion clean, or if you’re lucky, not so clean fun,” Jen said with a wink.