Perrin had already made a date with a banker she’d been seeing for a while and had been really pissed about not going along on the sailboat. “I can’t believe this dream guy of yours is that same grouch who sat at dinner for thirty seconds. How can you be dating him? Though he’s a hunk, I have to admit that. And makes great ads. You should see what we have picked out for you to model. It’s wicked.”
“He’s not my dream guy,” Cassidy had insisted over the phone; Russell was too much of a pain in the behind to be anyone’s dream guy. So why had she dreamt of him last night and why was she now climbing aboard Dave and Betsy’s boat?
Perrin had sniggered.
“I’m not dating him; besides, he’s not always a grouch. And I’m not modeling anything lurid.”
“I bet deep down he’s mean.”
Cassidy’s guess w
