Farewell, Dorothy Parker by Dorothy Parker Ellen Meister - Farewell Page A

want to get close enough to smell his neck.
    But no. This guy was so far out of her league she didn’t have the right to even think about him.
    Dear God, but he’s stunning. Ms. Epps, you simply must find a way to get this creature in your bed.
    Was Dorothy Parker losing her mind? This guy could get any woman he wanted. He wouldn’t be interested in Violet if he had cataracts and the lights were off.
    “I…I keep losing count,” she said.
    Flirt with him. Say it’s hard to concentrate in his presence.
    “Who’s Count?” he asked.
    “What? Oh, no one. I mean, I’m talking about coffee scoops.”
    He smiled. “That was supposed to be a joke.”
    Violet cringed in embarrassment. How could she be so stupid? “Sorry,” she said. “I should have known.”
    He put a warm hand on her shoulder. “No, you shouldn’t have. It was dumb.”
    “I like dumb jokes,” she said, “especially puns.”
    “Good,” he said, “’cause I’m the king of bad puns. In fact, I always have a pun in the oven.”
    Violet shook her head and laughed. “That’s terrible!”
    “But you laughed.”
    She went back to counting out scoops of coffee. “There’s a certain charm to the puns that make you cringe.”
    Excellent! Keep flirting. You’re doing great.
    Was she really flirting? Violet got flustered. “I’m still losing count,” she said.
    “Try doing it by tens,” he said.
    “What?”
    “Count by tens. That’s what I do. Helps the focus.”
    There was that sibilant
s
again. Violet could turn herself off to the handsome face and strong body. She might even find a way to resist the honey-toned voice. But that speech impediment touched the tenderest part of her heart.
    “I’ll give it a shot,” she said, and started scooping the coffee again.
    Tell him you’re lousy at domestic tasks. Tell him you’re only good at two things, and then when he asks what they are—
    “There!” Violet said, though she had lost count once again. “Done. Thanks for the tip.” She turned on the electric coffeemaker—the one Ivy used for parties—and it started making familiar hissing noises as it heated the water.
    “What can I help you with?” he asked.
    Violet dusted her hands and surveyed the kitchen. Except forthe birthday cake, all the desserts were already in the dining room. “I think I’m in pretty good shape here,” she said.
    Find something for him to do, you fool!
    “Um, actually,” Violet added, “can you pour some half and half into that little creamer?”
    He opened the refrigerator and got out the container. “Which half?” he asked.
    Violet smiled. “I never saw this side of you,” she said. “In class you’re always so serious.”
    “I leave the goofy home,” he said. “Kung fu requires concentration.”
    She had to agree with that. It was a pretty rigorous discipline.
    “Anyway,” he continued, “it’s really nice of you to do this for Mariana. You must entertain a lot.”
    “Me? God, no. This is…almost unprecedented.”
    “Then it’s especially nice. It really means a lot to Mariana.”
    Mariana. Isn’t that the birthday girl? What’s his particular interest in her? Find out if they’re an item.
    “I’m glad,” Violet said.
    His expression was suddenly serious. “Poor thing’s had a rough year,” he said.
    He feels sorry for her. You might have your work cut out for you.
    “I didn’t know,” Violet said.
    “Her mother died a few months ago.”
    Splendid! If this guy’s got a soft spot for women with sad stories, you win. Tell him about your sister. You’ll have him wrapped around your finger in no time.
    “I’m so sorry to hear that,” Violet said. “She never mentioned anything.”
    “She puts on a brave front.”
    Damn. He cares about her.
    “She certainly seems very strong,” Violet said.
    “She does. Though when you get to know her you can see she’s dealing with a lot of pain.”
    This is going from bad to worse. Your goose may be cooked, my dear.
    There’s