KITTY
"Yes." No. Hell, no. Get me out of here, please. Joanne opened the binder and from the side pocket, she took out a credit-card-thin remote control. She pointed it at the mirror, which turned from opaque to glass, and revealed a large room filled with at least a dozen men.
"Go on," said Joanne. "Have a look." My heart pounded as I stood up and walked to
the see-through wall. "Can they see me?"
"No. It's a one-way mirror. So, Kitty. Give me your top three choices. Then we'll look at their profiles, and you can pick your very own Fantasy Man."
Hoo, boy. I felt like a kid with my nose pressed against the candy store window. Most of the occupants were shirtless. Some wore jeans, others shorts, and a few had donned Speedos. A large-screen television blared a sports channel. Some sprawled on a couch and watched it. Two men were working out: one ran on
a treadmill and the other lifted weights.
