Authors: Carolyn Thornton
Dear Ms. Lacey Adams,
This is just to remind you to take advantage of the
special offer which you received with flowers yesterday, asking you to
return the enclosed self-addressed, stamped postcard at your earliest
convenience, sometime between now and July 1985, when the offer
expires. If you need references to help you make up your mind about the
plans suggested in the letter, you may contact A. J. Tell at
404-555-9151. Just mention my name and your code of Alpha One. Tell
A.J. you have received a once-in-a-lifetime offer from Rafe. Next tell
A.J. that you need him to search the files and provide you with a
background evaluation.
After that you can call 919-555-5722. Your assigned code
here will be Alfa One Charlie. Mention that you have received a request
from Rafe to meet you. Ask that the file be pulled for a written
dialogue on Rafe. It will be necessary to explain that you are
considering the possibility of going out on a date with Rafe. Once you
have mentioned this, any questions you have will be answered. But!!!!
Do not ask about the Middle East. That is a four-hour introduction to
the problem. If you still need additional information, call my
secretary at 555-8282 here in town and ask her to leave a message for
Lieutenant Colonel Rafe. I'm still waiting by my mailbox. I'm still
wondering what day you will return the card with your encoded action
message.
Your hopeful new friend,
Rafe
Lacey was laughing by the time she finished this note. She
had to hand it to him for persistence. It looked as if he was covering
all the bases for her. What in the world had George told Rafe about her
to make him so eager to meet her?
As soon as Lacey got back to the boutique, she headed for
her upstairs office, pulled out the phone book and called Amy.
"Amy? Lacey. What do you know about Rafe Chancellor?"
Amy laughed. "You don't give a person half a chance to
register who's calling first, do you? Why do you want to know about
Rafe Chancellor?"
"I'll tell you in a minute," Lacey promised. "Do you know
him?"
"Sure. Everyone's heard of Rafe if they're connected with
the Army, maybe even if they're just plain military. He's quite a
legend. Why?"
"It's a long story," Lacey answered, eager for
information. "What do you think of him?"
"Very interesting man. A gentleman. He was talking to me
at the colonel's one evening and some of the men were cutting up in the
corner—really loud and not the best of language. Rafe just
turned and looked at them, cocked one of his eyebrows and announced,
'I'm talking to a lady here.' Did it ever shut them up. He has enough
rank to put just about anyone in their place, even if he is retired."
"Tell me more," Lacey urged.
"Only if you tell me why. How do you know him?"
"I don't, yet," Lacey told her. "He sent me flowers
yesterday and wants to take me out. But I've never met him. Should I
meet him?"
"You'll like him," Amy answered. "I've been trying to set
him up on a date with one of the girls here at work, but it hasn't
worked out. I never thought of introducing him to you. How did all of
this happen?"
"It didn't," Lacey answered. "Not yet. A friend of ours,
George Bridges—"
"I know George."
"Well, George mentioned him to me the other day right
between the frozen foods and the laundry detergent."
"What?"
"We were in the grocery store at the time."
"I see," Amy answered, still sounding puzzled.
"I wasn't paying attention at the time to what he was
saying about Rafe. But I am now." Lacey picked up the letter from Rafe
and wondered what she would say if she called the numbers he had given
her for references. It was difficult enough getting the message across
to a good friend about the strangeness of Rafe's approach. "He sent me
flowers yesterday."
"Flowers! My husband doesn't even remember what a flower
looks like. He thinks it's something I bake bread with. But you haven't
met Rafe?"
"No. All I've had so far are flowers, a note of
introduction and a return postcard for my reply if I decide to let him
call me."
"Wow," Amy said. "Did you? Send the card back, I mean?
Isn't that cute?"
Lacey had to admit, at least to herself, it was exciting
to have a man ask her for a date in this manner. "No, I wanted to talk
to some other people first, like you." Lacey played with the corner of
Rafe's latest letter. "That's why I'm calling, to make sure I want to
follow up on this person. I mean, it is kind of strange, being
approached through the mail this way, don't you think?"
"I think it's positively romantic."
"Well," Lacey said, and smiled. It was, and she was
secretly delighted. "What can you tell me about him? What does he look
like?"
"He's tall," Amy said. "Very slim. Makes me feel fat."
"That thin?" Lacey commented, thinking of Amy's svelte,
perfect figure and knowing from Amy's five-eight height Rafe must be
tall for Amy to consider him so. She was beginning to get a picture of
a beanpole giant with spurs. "This could present problems," Lacey
mumbled, thinking of the swimsuit figure gracing her refrigerator door
and wondering if such a thin man would consider her too fat to go out
with. Then again, a man like that might give her just the incentive she
needed to push her over the edge to Slim City. He could be good therapy
for her. "What color is his hair?"
"Humm. That one's hard. Kind of light brown to reddish."
"This gets more complicated," Lacey said. "I'm starting to
picture this person with multicolored hair. Nobody agrees on it. Other
than hair, what does he look like?"
"He's no Tom Selleck or Burt Reynolds or Tom Jones," Amy
said, "but he's no Don Knotts, either."
"That leaves a wide range for my imagination and doesn't
tell me a thing."
"You'll just have to see for yourself," Amy said. "When
are you going out with him?"
"I don't know yet," Lacey answered. "I haven't sent the
card back yet. How does your husband like him?"
"I think he's basically well respected by everyone. The
NCO's talk about him as if he'd be a fair and approachable officer to
have in command. He's in business for himself now, though, did you know
that?"
"I don't know anything. What kind of business?"
"I'm not sure," Amy answered, taking a few minutes to
think. "It must be some kind of management thing, or consulting or
something. He has his fingers in different pies. He's not locked into a
gas-pumping job that begins at five and ends at five day in and day
out. I think he travels a lot too."
Lacey picked up his letter again and turned it backward
and forward. Maybe she should check the references listed on there. But
how biased would his references be? Talking to Amy should have given
her a more objective viewpoint.
"What happened on the date you set up for him?" Lacey
asked.
"With the girl in my office? He called her at the last
minute for the Military Ball and she couldn't make arrangements to go
out with him on such short notice."
That doesn't sound good, Lacey thought. But if he turned
out to be a dud for a date, she could always use his last-minute
invitations as a legitimate excuse for not going out with him again.
"It doesn't sound as if he's much of a swinger."
"Do you want a swinger?"
"No, but I'm not opposed to macho types from time to
time," Lacey hedged.
"He has a definite flair about him. I hope you like chaps
and Stetsons."
"I heard about his boots and spurs," Lacey confirmed Amy's
impressions. "I hope he doesn't carry a whip."
Amy laughed. "He's a decent guy. You'll probably like him.
I don't think he's the type who would force himself on you."
He wouldn't get very far if he tried
,
Lacey thought. She didn't like totally overwhelming, domineering men.
She wanted a leader, but one who could respect her own abilities. "He's
sounding better all the time," Lacey admitted, more inclined to mail
the self-addressed, stamped reply card. "Why hasn't he been snapped up
by some gorgeous slim female by now?"
"He doesn't get much opportunity to date, I think," Amy
said. "The kind of job he has keeps him traveling a good bit, and when
he's here he spends most of his time with his family. Did you know he
has custody of a daughter?"
"No," Lacey said, impressed that this man was taking on
the responsibility of a child after a divorce. The men she met very
seldom even had furniture after a divorce, much less the care of a
child.
"I'm not sure what sort of arrangement he has worked out
with his ex-wife," Amy confided, "but until recently his daughter was
living with him."
Lacey absorbed this additional information. Her opinion of
the unknown Rafe Chancellor went up two notches. She would just have to
send the postcard back to find out more about him.
"Is there anything else you can tell me," Lacey asked,
"before I commit myself to this change in my destiny?"
"No, I don't think so," Amy replied. "But you might talk
to Jennifer Queens. He sent his daughter to the private school where
she teaches, and I think she could tell you more about him."
Lacey sighed. Whoever he was, Rafe Chancellor was going to
be interesting to pursue.
"Thanks for all your help," Lacey said. "I'll keep you
posted on developments. Come by the shop when you get a chance."
"I will," Amy promised. "It looks delightful from the
story they did on you in the paper last Sunday."
"Thanks," Lacey said, and hung up.
Lacey toyed with Rafe's letter. She should send back his
postcard just out of curiosity. Everyone seemed to like Rafe. He
couldn't be all bad. But why was he approaching her through the mail
like this? Why not just come out and call her on the phone, or walk
into the shop and ask her straight out for a date?
If he did that, she wouldn't go. The direct approach had
always been
too
direct for her. Men who were too
blatant in their macho mechanics turned her off. She'd make one more
phone call to Jennifer about Rafe, and if she got two out of three
favorable opinions about him, she'd mail back the card. She should
already have mailed it back in last night's midnight mailing.
Lacey looked up the number of Jennifer's school and
dialed. Jennifer wasn't on break then, so she left a message for her to
call back. While she was waiting for Jennifer to return the call, Lacey
went down to the lower level of the shop. She tried to get involved in
the rearrangements that she had initiated over the weekend, which still
left one area of the shop in confusion. This was the bridal section,
the most romantic room in the shop for Lacey.
Her original designs hung from the ceiling and her
favorite dress was hanging on an antique dress form in one corner of
the room. All the trimmings for the traditional
wedding—things old, new, borrowed and blue—were
also displayed in the room. Lacey most enjoyed planning for weddings
and was particularly excited now because one of her favorite clients
had asked her to design an entire honeymoon wardrobe.
Lacey was just starting to work on a short jumpsuit to add
to the things she already had at the seamstress's, when one of her shop
assistants called her to the phone.
"Lacey, it's been a long time since I talked to you. Is
anything the matter?" Jennifer asked.
"Oh, no. At least I don't think so. Not yet. I was
wondering what you could tell me about a man named Rafe Chancellor. I
understand his daughter attended your school."
"Angela Chancellor."
"Is that her name? It must be. How many Rafe Chancellors
can we have on the Gulf Coast?"
"Not many, I wouldn't think," Jennifer answered. "She's a
very smart child. It was a shame to lose her after the Christmas
holidays."
"What happened?"
Jennifer sighed. "I don't know all the details, but
apparently the Chancellors have some sort of joint-custody arrangement,
and the wife decided it was time to take her."
"Oh." Lacey absorbed that information. "What about Rafe
Chancellor? What can you tell me about him?"
"Extremely polite man. Obviously spends a lot of time with
his daughter. I gather they're very close. At all the PTA and school
functions he was prominently involved. You know what I mean. He wasn't
afraid to express his opinions, especially coming in as a new parent in
town. Why do you ask?"
"I may be having a date with him," Lacey explained. "I'm
still trying to make up my mind."
"You'd have a good time," Jennifer told her. "The way you
like to challenge people with ideas, he'd keep you on your toes."
"Do you think so?" Lacey asked. "I'm having trouble
deciding if I want to meet him."
"You definitely wouldn't be bored. I could tell you that
for sure," Jennifer said. "Rafe Chancellor is the type of man who keeps
a checklist of things he wants to do during his lifetime and checks
them off as he accomplishes them, then moves on to the next challenge."
"But would the things he enjoys doing be the things I like
to do?"
"He doesn't design high fashion, that's for sure,"
Jennifer said, laughing, "but he might inspire you to start up a
western line."
"I've gathered that from some other sources."
"He's interested in just about everything. Odds are you'd
find plenty of things you like doing which you never knew about before
meeting him. He's the kind of man who catches you up in the spirit of
things."
"I'm not sure I want to be caught," Lacey commented.
"I'm not sure he does either," Jennifer said. "He has a
lot of responsibility with his daughter, and I get the impression he's
not ready for the marriage frying pan again, if ever."
"Has he told you that?" Lacey asked.
"Not in so many words," Jennifer admitted. "I don't know
him as well as I do his daughter. What little I have talked with him
has just been on school-related topics, but that's the impression I
get."