Today's prompt is pretty. Tonya has arrived at her friend's house for the fix up date, but she's also just received another threatening text from Clint. She's also dressed in worn jeans, old cowboys boots, and a simple sweater. You'll see why this matters later.

EXCERPT

Her fingers posed over the tiny keyboard. You weren’t supposed to reply to stalkers. Still, she needed to buy time. Her fingers flew over the keyboard hating the fact she was replying along with the reason behind needing to reply.

What email? I didn’t get any email.

Her response might buy her some time. She sent the email wondering if Clint, surrounded by a half dozen cronies, used her as an example as he gave instructions on how to make a woman crawl back.

Nope, it wasn’t going to happen. The tap on her window caused her to drop her phone.

Lynne stood outside the car wrapped in an oversized Kiss the Cook apron. Throwing her a forced smile, Tonya lowered the window. “Do you have any real right wearing that apron?”

“None,” her friend admitted with a shrug. “Marc brought dinner home from work as a favor since I scared up the single female.”

“’Yippee,’ said the single female.” Tonya teased her friend, before powering up the window. Grabbing her phone from the car floor, she regarded it the way one would a poisonous snake.

Depressing the car door handle, she waited until her friend backed up before exiting.

Tonya slammed the car door, prepared to follow her friend, but Lynne wasn’t moving. Instead, her friend pursed her lips as she perused her outfit. “You chose that to wear?” Using her tongue to make a clicking noise, she announced her disapproval as if her face hadn’t already.

Balling up her fists, Tonya placed them on her hips. Pushing her chin out at a belligerent angle, she asked, “What’s wrong with what I have on? I happen to like it.”

Before Lynne could reply, a mellow baritone interjected. “I like it too, especially on you. Looks good.”

Whoa. Not Marc’s familiar East Coast accent. Lynne’s open mouth announced that the man in question arrived.

Might as well make polite, they’d have to meet sometime. Placing one boot behind the other, she pivoted expecting to meet some senior partner or steel-jawed legal tiger. The smiling brown haired man standing next to the sports car clutching a wine bottle looked so ordinary, even pleasant.

A quick scan revealed he was in his business attire minus the suit jacket. His loosened tie and undone top button announced he was ready to leave work behind for the day.

He held out his empty hand. “Hi, I am Will. Will Robinson.”

Tonya gave his hand a vigorous shake remembering her business training that a weak handshake always decreased the client’s confidence in your ability. “Hi Will Robinson. Wasn’t your family trying to get to Alpha Centauri?” The quip may have been ill advised, but his name brought up memories of an old science fiction show sometimes featured in black and white reruns. It also help cover her surprise that his simple touch jumpstarted a chemical reaction. One she considered out of commission.

Will kept her hand a tad longer than needed while his eyes twinkled. “Ah, we weren’t that Robinson family. Mine was the one, that hadn’t seen the show and didn’t understand why naming me Will was not a kindness.”

Tonya found herself grinning back at the witty lawyer. “Did the other kids pick on you?”

“Not too much, but there was this one female who gave me a hard time and I didn’t even know her name.” He nodded toward the front door where Lynne stood waiting.

She almost asked him what grade this was until she realized he was referring to her. “Oh, her. The name’s Tonya Smiley.”

Her last name embarrassed her. It was such a pretty name like loving or serene. It sounded contrived like the hostess on a single cruise. To push past the inevitable remarks about having a beautiful smile or even her name suiting her, she went defensive. “Why were you sneaking around eavesdropping on our girl talk?”

Her abrupt question caused Lynne to cough madly. In between coughs, she managed to mutter, “Watch it.”

Will threw his hands up over his head, one still wrapped around the neck of the wine bottle. “You got me, I’m guilty. I snuck out the side door that Marc showed me to retrieve the wine I forgot. The two of you were deep into conversation. I didn’t think it was my place to interrupt, but when I felt your outfit was being criticized I had to say something.”

Last week, we left off with Tonya anxious about losing her job due to her ex-boyfriend's harassment. Her friend, Lynne, just invited her to dinner to be the extra woman. She has some reservations about attending, but has agreed to go. Find out how the picture prompt works its way into the story.

EXCERPT

“Can I count on you arriving around seven? Act surprised. Marc doesn’t want him to suspect a fix-up.” She picked up her coffee cup, ready to leave.

“Okay, I can do surprised, especially since this was sprung on me. Why did his fiancée leave him?” If the reason was horrendous, she reserved the right to bail.

Lynne stood in the doorway. “Oh that, decided she wanted to be a man. In fact, she’s already started the process. Instead of being Erika, she’s now a short, slight man going by Eric.”

Tonya watched her friend leave wondering if a natural disaster might get her out of the date. Michelle’s voice cut into her reverie. “Woo wee, sounds like a real winner. A man that causes a woman to rethink her options enough to become a man is no prize.”

Even though Michelle’s words mirrored her own thoughts, she felt the need to defend the unknown man. “Oh it could be she always felt that way. It wasn’t until it came down to getting married that she actually evaluated her feelings about wanting to be a man.” Her explanation sounded feeble to her own ears.

Her co-worker snorted, looked up, waggled her eyebrows, and then, added, “I’m sure you’ll find him fascinating.”

Yeah right, and you weren’t eavesdropping either. “Who knows, he might be a charmer.” She doubted it. “Besides, Marc is a chef.”

Lynne’s husband was an executive chef at one of the trendier restaurants in town. In the end, she’d be more like a bee landing on a delicious flower for a free meal as opposed to meeting another bee.

Today's word is curly. We left Tonya contemplating losing her job.  We start with Lynne entering the office while Tonya is still standing by the file cabinet.

EXCERPT

Lynne, her best friend, wandered into the room. Cradling a large coffee mug, she walked over to Tonya’s desk, resting one hip on the clean surface.  “Hey Chickee, got some news you might like.”

It couldn't be anything worse. Her heels tapped out a rapid tattoo as she crossed to her chair and slid into it. Maybe Lynne had the lowdown on whose jobs stayed. If Michelle’s didn't make the cut, no reason for her to hear via office gossip.

“Alright, Lynne, spill it.” She kept her voice low hoping Lynne would do the same.

Her friend looked thoughtful and placed her cup down. Leaning forward, she softened her voice, but not much. “You still dating that lame-o boyfriend?”

“Which one?” The words popped out of her mouth before she could reconsider them. It earned her a laugh from Michelle, who immediately looked down at her phone.

Lynne raised her arm to make a bicep and patted it. “You know old Hercules, all muscle, but not much brains.”

Oh Brian, she’d almost forgotten the man. Not a bad guy, but not great either. She’d hoped he’d develop this great passion for her. Instead, he’d become more of a growth on her couch rather like an extra-large throw pillow making use of her cable package.

“Oh him, I quit dating him months ago.” Her lips pulled down in a grimace remembering the breakup scene. Awkward, she couldn’t quite make him understand that she didn’t want him coming by to watch her television while she prepared food, more like he didn’t want to understand.

Lynne clapped her hands together. “Glad to hear it.”

Her gaze snapped back to her friend. “You didn’t even know Brian. What do you have against him?” As a happily married woman, her friend showed at best, a cursory interest in her dating life. Not like some of her unhappily married co-workers who imagined  a more exciting love life than she actually had. 

“Well,” Lynne hesitated,  and became preoccupied with grooming her cuticles.

Nervous antics in her collected friend seldom happened. “What’s up? You’re acting peculiar.”

“Um yeah,” Lynne agreed shaking back her curly hair. “Marc, my husband.”

Nodding her head, she interrupted. “I know who Marc is.” Circling her hand, she gestured for her friend to continue.

Lynne responded by sticking out her tongue, before speaking. “Marc invited his friend Will over for dinner.”

This conversation wasn’t making a whole lot of sense, but that could be because Clint's threats preoccupied her. “This concerns me how.”

“Um yeah, that part.” Lynne slipped off the desk and came around to grab Tonya’s hands. “I’m begging you to help me out. I will owe you forever, and then some.”

Her earnest tone worried her. Inhaling deeply, she wondered if she needed one more complication. Still, Lynne was her only real friend at the company. “What’s the favor?”  She crossed her ankles hoping that counted the same as crossing her fingers.

Lynne leaned forward to hug her. She allowed the hug, but asked with her face smashed against her friend’s hair. “I haven’t agreed and you haven’t explained.”

Dropping her arms, her friend managed a strained expression. Holding out both hands, she explained, “It’s like this. I knew Will was coming for dinner tonight. Marc’s worried about him because he’s been down ever since his fiancée dumped him.”

“He should be rejoicing. It’s cheaper than a divorce.” She’d bet good money Will wasn’t threatening the woman who dumped him, then, again, she didn’t know.

Lynne nodded.  “Yes, that’s what Marc told him. Anyhow, he’s sure he's dating poison.  Dinner is supposed to cheer him up. I’m in charge of providing the single woman who will find him fascinating.” She brought both palms together in a prayer-like pose.

Using three fingers, Tonya tapped her own chest. “I’m supposed to find Will fascinating?” She definitely didn’t need this in an already crazy day. The man was probably a power freak or just plain boring.

“Not you, really. I had Lila lined up.”

Lynne’s words conjured up the image of her friend’s little sister, Lila, who currently sported lavender hair and insisted on everyone calling her Lilac. “No offense, Lynne, but your sister is crazy.”

 “True. Same thing Marc said. She’d have loved Will.”

There wasn’t a man Lila didn’t like. Only ones she didn’t know. “What’s the deal with Lila? Is she a no-show?”

“An old boyfriend offered to fly her to Vegas.” Lynne reached for her cup, frowned after tasting it. “Cold.”

“Vegas does sound like a better deal.”  Not exactly, what she wanted to do, but on the bright side, she’d score a free meal.

Set up:
Back in July, we met Tonya who is being harassed by an ex-boyfriend over some sexy photos she made. Her company is already in the lay-off mode and those pictures might be the final straw for her super conservative boss. Her best friend, Lynne, is unaware of her dilemma and tries her hand at matchmaking Tonya with Will, a divorce lawyer.

Today's prompt is ribbon. See if you can find it.


Excerpt

She studied the photo while listening to her co-worker’s grating laughter. Technically, everything was covered, but she looked nude. This wasn’t good. Her boss would fire her for sure. One of the accountant’s calendar with an attractive model in a mini skirt hit the circular file because Phyllis in HR claimed it was sexual harassment.

The lack of laughter had her deleting the photo. A creeping sense of horror had her erasing her history. Richard, the IT manager, informed her he could recover anything up to forty-eight hours if she deleted it. Forty-eight hours. She gulped. Here's hoping Richard's children have full calendars that required both parents driving them to various practices.

Tonya twisted in her chair, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Be rational, think logically, she lectured herself as her rapid breathing slowed. Pushing up out of her chair, she walked to the file cabinet and ruffled the files as if she were looking for something. Action often calmed her, more the thinking ever did.

Michelle breezed into the room. The co-worker’s purse landed on her crowded desk. Michelle searched for an empty place to sit her oversized soda. Shrugging off her coat, it fell onto a brightly colored plastic chair. Michelle pivoted on her stiletto boot heels to greet Tonya.

“Hey girl. Sorry I’m late, but my youngest had…” Her voice drifted off.

Her co-worker’s excuses were endless regarding her lack of punctuality. Her children figured prominently in them. It was odd to stop in the middle of a sentence.            

 “Hello, trouble with the kids, “she pushed out the words hoping her voice sounded ordinary.

“Yeah, something like that.” Michelle responded, not elaborating like she normally would.  “Tonya, you’re as a white as a sheet. I mean I know you’re white and all, but…”

Normally, she might find Michelle’s discomfort amusing, but not today. Especially, since she wasn’t hiding her stress as well as she thought. Oh, she knew Clint’s plan. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t explained it in those first letters. It was a long ribbon of circumstances he’d put into play that would result in tying her to him, a non-consensual bondage scenario. Ironic considering he left her.

The shock of his sudden departure wore off after a couple of months. Lynne’s tired advice about the best way to get over an old man was to get under a new one, worked until Clint decided he wanted her back. Her lips twisted to one side as she considered their conversation. At the time, she might have even been a little happy to hear from him since she’d recently gave Brian his walking papers. but then he started all that demanding stuff. He had rules about how things were going to be, as if he owned her or something. Her mistake was laughing at him. Oh hell, her real blunder was not killing him when she met him. Sure, other problems would have resulted. The thought flitted through her mind as light and small as an early spring butterfly leaving behind a fleeting instance of euphoria.