Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Second Best
Part: 080
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples and their
families through the period immediately preceding their Senior Prom.
Keywords: nosex

Keywords for full story:  F-solo, Ff-inc, M+F Ffm MF mf oral anal bd D/s Mg-
inc Fm-inc mm mmf rom MF-reluc

Chapter 80
Alien family dinners

      Helen had arrived at McGinty's for the day shift quietly, but she was
projecting a certain level of fear and, more important, anticipation.  By
noon, Flossie had picked it up, and was quizzing Helen about various
subjects, trying to find the focal point by striking around it like an
artillery barrage.  When Helen finally got off at 4:00 and, instead of going
home, ducked into the ladies room with a suitcase in her hand, all Hell
broke loose!

      Flossie was standing there with a grin on her face as Helen came out.
"So, what's this?"

      "I, uh, have an appointment.  I don't have time to go home."  Helen
temporized.

      "Hmph. If that was all there was to it, you'd have brought in a dress
on a hanger.  That's an overnight bag.  You stayin' somewhere overnight,
Honey?"

      "Uh..."

      "I'll take that as a 'yes'." Flossie was relentless. "Girls!  Keep an
eye out!  Helen's man is comin'!"  The other waitresses harassed her
mercilessly, with comments like, "Where do I call you - we want another
tape!" and "When's the next Sex Ed class?" until she gave up and went
outside to wait.  When Big Al pulled up in his battered pickup, Helen was in
a rush to get in, but Al did the gallant thing, getting out and coming
around to open the door, and gathering her in for a kiss.  The resulting
hoots and catcalls alerted Al to his audience - three of the waitresses were
smiling and waving through the window. He proceeded to buss her again, and
make her like it - Helen gave up resisting after about two seconds - before
smiling and waving at their audience. Al thought about goosing Helen as she
mounted up, but decided against it, knowing that he was still on probation
from the phone call.

      Getting in, he asked, "Couldn't keep it quiet, huh?"

      Helen grimaced.  "They're relentless, and they watch me like hawks -
especially since the answering machine incident.  You'd think they had no
men of their own!"

      Al grinned. "Aw, they're just happy for ya!" he chided.

      "They're embarrassing me to death! You'd think I was sixteen!" Helen
blustered.

      Al reached out a paw and dragged her across the bench seat to him.
"Nice dress," he observed, changing the subject.

      In reality, the blue dress was pretty demure; Helen had deliberately
chosen it to de-emphasize her various charms.  The round neckline didn't
show a lot of her cleavage, (although you couldn't hide the sheer volume of
breast flesh hiding under there), and she had cradled everything in a no-
nonsense brassiere.  Still, the little over-jacket made it quite dressy.
Helen was determined to attempt to discover whether the pair had a
relationship outside the bedroom, and to that end she had gone to some
lengths to put her various alleged charms under wraps. Al played along,
keeping his hands in non-controversial territory, mauling her right side,
waist, and neck while he drove.  Helen relaxed despite herself, which was
his intent. Idly, he remarked, "If I hadn't spent two hours trying to figure
out which can to open, I'd suggest that we go out to dinner..."

      Helen smiled.  "That's okay.  I want to see just how domestic you can
be!"

      Al's voice was gruff.  "Well, you'll see the full extent of it - I
can't accomplish much more!"  It was nothing less than the truth; Al had
spent several hours driving Mike and Bobby nuts obsessing over little things
that couldn't be fixed in less than a week.  The house was as spotless as
three men could make it - which was pretty good, since Al had learned his
cleaning standard in the military, where they check the corners FIRST!

      They pulled up in front of a somewhat ramshackle ranch-style place
that showed the marks of a couple of additions over the years.  The yard was
well-kept, if somewhat lacking in flowerbeds and other decorations.  Helen
was pleased to note that there wasn't any sign of a car under repair in
sight, and said so.  Al responded, "I own a garage.  Work should stay there,
if possible.  Bobby's current project is inside the garage, but I don't
believe in automotive statuary in the yard."  He got out of the truck and
escorted her in.

      Once through the entry, Helen took a look around.  Things were pretty
neat, and pretty clean - not perfect, but okay.  The place had seen a
woman's touch once, but it had been a while; in many places tastefully
organized older furnishings coexisted uneasily with newer, purely functional
(normally modern) replacements.  The living room was roomier than hers, and
a short flight of stairs led off to a den with a rough stone hearth that
apparently had seen little recent use.

      Big Al was hideously nervous.  He managed to get Helen placed on a
couch in the den, then stood around trying to figure out what to do with his
hands.  Alone with Helen, he totally ran out of witticisms and couldn't
think of a thing to say.  Finally, he remembered social lubricants: "Would
you like a drink?  You're gonna have to put up with my lasagna, so I bought
some Chianti, but I can probably find something else if you have something
in mind."  The realization in mid-sentence that he DIDN'T keep a well-
stocked bar, and therefore had little or nothing to offer only added to his
embarrassment.

      Helen correctly identified the problem, and worked to let him off the
hook.  "What do YOU normally have in the evening, Al?" she asked.

      "Uh, beer, occasionally, but usually just an iced tea or lemonade - or
a soda.  Used to drink more wine, but I'm no connoisseur.  Thanks to the
boys, I've got a few types of soda - coke, some citrus stuff, Seven-up,
maybe something new and flashy, if I'm lucky and Bobby did the last grocery
run.  Uh, I don't do diet - I can taste that sweetener."

      "Is the tea sweetened?" Helen inquired.

      "Uh, no, I usually sweeten it when I pour it."

      "That's fine - I can do the same?" Helen responded.

      "Okay, I'll be right back.  Lemon?" Al asked, mentally crossing his
fingers in the hopes there was one available.

      "No, they're a pain in the neck, and I don't want you gone that long.
In fact, why don't I go with you? I'd drag you into the kitchen at my
house..."

      "Yeah.  Okay..." The more he thought of the idea, the better it
sounded. "Sure, Come on!"  He led the way through a doorway to the right,
into a kitchen that showed the marks of high traffic, but very little
cooking. But a rich aroma wafted from the oven when Al popped open the door,
and he nodded his satisfaction at the look of the product before rifling the
cabinet for a pair of matched glasses.  Tea came from a glass pitcher, and
probably NOT from a mix.  Al mumbled something about it being worth it to do
some things right.  Helen collected the sugar and a long-handled spoon and
mixed a spoonful in.  Al took two.

      Al made another feeble attempt at conversation. "So, other than the
harassment, how was your day?"

      Helen smiled.  "It was okay.  Tips were a bit scant in the afternoon,
but that's not unusual."

      "How much do you rely on tips?" Al queried.

      "The system is rigged at about 50%," Helen replied, smiling, "but I
tend to do just a bit better."

      "Tough making ends meet?"

      "It can be.  The girls are fairly frugal, though - especially Mandi -
although she may want more of a wardrobe, now..." Helen replied.

      "From what I've seen of that pair, she may need less!" Al laughed.
"In any case, Rick may take it into his head to relieve you of that
financial burden, sooner rather than later!"

      "You've known Rick for some time," Helen wondered, "What do you think
of Rick?"

      "He's a good kid - intelligent, well balanced. Not a mean bone in his
body. He's gonna make something of himself, I think.  Mandi's got herself a
keeper, in my book!"

      "That was my opinion," Helen agreed, "but I value yours.  I don't know
him like you do - I know he's hung out with Bobby for some time.  I know
Dina, but she's different - almost a force of nature.  What're you going to
do about her and Bobby?"

      "Nothin'," Al grinned. "She's done more to tame him in two weeks than
I could get out of five years of church-goin'. I used to have to rely on
Rick's touch of leadership to keep Bobby from going overboard.  Now Dina's
got him hog-tied.  Should have seen it - she's been setting him up for a
while!"

      "What about the age difference?" Helen asked.

      "By the time they both get out of high school, a couple years won't
matter.  If they don't make it, things will settle themselves. I hope they
make it, though. They're a cute couple." Al looked earnest. "Flip side is
their folks.  Seems like all Hell's broke loose over there.  My weird shit-
o-meter's about pegged!"

      "It's different, but I'm not sure it's bad.  I get some from Mandi,
who turns out to have similar tendencies," Helen related.  "As I understand
it, Dina's mother has a submissive streak about a mile wide, but had been
playing the standard liberated woman game.  Quite by accident, she
discovered that she was very unhappy, and things didn't have to be that
way."

      "I hear the husband beats her." Al grunted.

      "Don't judge him too harshly. Ultimately, he's giving her what she
wants.  And he's got 20 years of pent-up frustration to vent.  The beatings
are something she needs to establish his dominance - and she WANTS him to be
dominant! Mandi says he was reluctant, and he does no more than he must, but
he's strong with her, and it's what she craves."

      "I can't see it."

      "Me, either, but... Mandi says she's incredibly happy - that you can
SEE the difference! She also says it's not an abuse thing - he makes her toe
the line, and she loves him for it.  Neither of them is into pain, giving or
taking."

      "It's still pretty weird."  Al extracted the lasagna pan from the oven
and set it out to cool.

      "I agree.  But Mandi says that the new relationship is a vast
improvement over the old one.  Apparently, she was a real ice cube in bed,
and they were both frustrated.  Now, he takes no shit, she does what she's
told and doesn't get wrapped up in guilt over the results, and they're both
having a ball!" Helen shrugged.

      "Huh!  Never thought of that! Big hang-ups, huh? I've seen that..." Al
mused, pensive.

      "Apparently.  Wow!  That sure smells good!"  Helen changed the
subject, having conquered Al's prejudice in the matter.

      "It'd better - it's my sole specialty.  Almost everything else comes
out of the microwave!" Al's grin was rueful.

      "You need a woman around..." Helen shut up in mid-sentence, having
realized what she'd come out with.

      Al winked.  "Got my eye on one!"

      Helen blushed furiously, 'I didn't..."

      "Well I DID!" Al riposted. "Look, I've spent a couple of nights in bed
with you there next to me, and, frankly, the alternative sucks!  At this
point, I'd give just about anything to be able to wake up every morning with
you droolin' on my shoulder and your hair tickin' my nose."

      "How long will it be before you realize that there's more - and better
- where I come from?" Anger was a thin veneer over Helen's fear.

      "You ain't happy until you've offered to push me off on some skinny
bitch!  I DON'T WANT NO SKINNY BITCH!" Al roared.  "If I WANTED a skinny
bitch, I'd have chased one down by now!  Do you see any?  I WANT YOU!!!"
After a moment, he got strangely quiet.  "How come we always have to cover
this ground?" he sighed, reached out and gripped her hand.  "I'm sorry your
first husband was a shit, and I'm sorry he left and took your belief in
yourself with you - but I ain't him, and I love ya.  When I look at you, I
see everything I ever wanted in a woman.  If ya can't believe in yourself,
believe in ME!  Okay?"

      "Okay," Helen replied meekly.  A tear dripped off her nose as Al
leaned over to kiss her.  It was a gentle thing, not freighted with the
sexual urgency that had been the signature of earlier efforts.

      When it was over, Al mumbled, "Lemme get this stuff dished out before
it gets cold," and began cutting the lasagna with a spatula.

      "Okay, where are the plates?" Helen queried.

      "Over there."  Al pointed, then stopped himself.

      Helen smiled as she moved to the indicated cupboard.  "Let's quit
worrying about the whole host - guest thing and work together, and see how
that goes. I know you're not comfortable with it, and it's getting in our
way."

      "Uh, okay," Al replied, visibly relieved.  "I just don't know how - no
practice!"

      "On the other hand, I've been doing it for years.  Why don't we play
to each other's strengths?" Helen smiled, setting the plates on the counter.
Al turned, wordless, and wrapped his arms around her; Helen snuggled in.
The lasagna could wait a few...


      Paul Michaels arrived home expecting trouble, only to find Ellen
strangely subdued and compliant.  Terry and Jackie were in on the couch
watching TV, Jackie's head resting on Terry's lap, when Paul popped in to
ask what was up.  "What did you do to your mother?" he asked Terry.

      "Nothing, actually.  Oh, we rattled her cage a bit over making out,
but... Frankly, I figured it was YOU!"

      "Me?"  Paul was mystified.

      "Yeah.  She was acting funny a while ago, and mumbled something about
something you said to her." Terry shrugged.  "She's been good ever since."

      "Hmmm," Paul said, deep in thought. "I told her to grow up - you guys
aren't doing anything we didn't at your age."  He snapped his fingers.  "I
told her if she didn't straighten up, I'd replace her with a bottle blonde!"

      "I guess she figured you had one in mind," Terry observed. "Mom's that
insecure?"

      Paul frowned, "I didn't THINK so - but I guess its useful information
for the future!"

      Jackie arched an eyebrow, but Terry forestalled her. "Mom tends to
give Dad a lot of crap!  In fact, making him go without for extended periods
is a favorite tactic.  If Dad can get a lick in, well, he's due!"  Jackie
subsided.

      Paul wandered back into the kitchen, maintaining a wary front. After a
moment, Ellen looked up from what she was doing.  "What did you mean earlier
when you said you could replace me... "

      Paul went poker faced, but he finished the quote, "... with a bleach
blonde?"  Ellen nodded and looked up.  To Paul's surprise, there was real
fear lurking there in her gaze. Nonetheless, he decided not to let her off
the hook.  "Nothing, perhaps, - but there have been times when it appeared
to be easier to conduct a sexual relationship at work than at home, not that
I have taken advantage of such opportunities.  There ARE limits, however..."

      "...And I'd be wise to stay within them, perhaps?" Ellen responded
tartly.

      Paul said nothing, content to merely observe her coolly.  After a
moment, the bravado began to crumble.  Ellen dropped her eyes and turned
away.

      Paul relented, changing the subject.  "What's for dinner?"  They moved
on to more domestic, less controversial matters.

      Everyone was on their best behavior at supper.  The young couple did
nothing to get anyone's nose out of joint, Jackie even assisting with
cleanup.  Ellen refused to either give or take offense, and Paul said
little.  Everyone went in to watch TV afterward, there being a decent movie
on.


      "I'm home!" Robert Nellis made the ritual announcement and awaited
developments.  In the kitchen, Merry passed a glance with Mandi, then
shrugged out of her apron, handing her the pasta stirrer as well.  She
didn't quite run to the entry, dropping into the ready position quickly.
"Forgive me, Master - I was cooking!"

      "Will it be all right?" he asked as he motioned her to rise.

      "I handed off to Mandi," came the reply.

      "Ah," Robert shucked out of his coat, and Merry took it and began
working it over a hanger and into the closet.  Robert took the opportunity
to step up behind her and place both hands on her hips.

      "Yi!" Merry leaped a foot, before remembering herself and standing
still.

      "Something wrong?" Robert asked, innocently.

      "M-master's hands are cold!" Merry replied, "Brrrr!"

      "They got wet! Aren't you glad I didn't take advantage of those two
heaters on your chest?" Robert smiled wickedly.

      Merry refused to be drawn.  "They're called 'hooters' Master - and
Master will do as he pleases, and I will be happy to be of service!"
Deliberately, she leaned back against him, facilitating the movement of his
hands to her twin mounds, despite the goose pimples.  Her nipples were
already erect and her aureoles crinkled when his hands arrived.

      "Mmmmm.  Very nice.  But sensitive.  I believe I can make do with a
more general heat source.  Turn around and kiss me."  Merry did, and Robert
grabbed two big handfuls of her ass.  They lingered for a while like that.

      Robert let go and stepped back.  "So, how did the day go?"

      "Well, Master, I should have a dress code document by Thursday - the
partners drafted it today.  My outfit was a hit with Bert - in fact, he took
everything you authorized and politicked for more!"

      "Really!"  Robert was amused.

      "Yes, Master.  When it became apparent that he was enjoying himself, I
ensured that he got to see some nipple."  She paused.  "He was so happy that
I used my judgment and decided that removing my blouse and giving him a good
long look was within the spirit of your instructions..."

      "He didn't touch anything?" Robert asked, poker faced.

      Merry began to get seriously nervous.  "No, Master.  I related my
instructions in that matter exactly, and Bert absorbed everything, including
possible implications.  You told me to use my judgment - did I go too far?"

      "Apparently not," Robert replied.  "Did it have any effect on the
dress code?"

      "It may have helped relax it.  Ann said that Bert came down on the
side of more casual wear, and cited my example in particular.  She was
certainly surprised!"

      "Tell me more about your run-in with Bert."

      "Well, I went in to take him some papers and he got an eyeful when I
bent over the desk.  He decided to dictate some changes, so I sat down to
write.  I caught him trying to get a better angle, so I suggested that he
look over my shoulder..."

      "You little minx!" Robert was grinning.

      Merry, heartened, continued, "The poor man couldn't even spell!  After
a couple of minutes, I hauled at the neckline of the halter to give him a
nipple shot.  I think he stopped breathing!  Anyway, that's when he dropped
his hand on my shoulder.  I stopped him, relating your instructions that he
was not to touch me without your permission.  He puzzled over that one for a
while, but then he let go of it and asked me to be specific about what you
said he COULD see!"

      "That was the lawyer coming out," Robert was still grinning.

      "I went over it, and when I was finished, he ask me if, since, I had
permission to show him my breasts, did I think that implied a good long
look?  I remembered that you had told me to use my judgment based on what he
seemed to be able to handle, so I decided that it was within the spirit, if
not the letter, of your instructions.  So I locked the office door and took
off my top!"  Merry was watching Robert anxiously.

      "Hmmph.  Well, it was a bit more than I intended, for now, but no harm
was done apparently.  How good a look did he take?" Robert asked.

      "He took a good ten minutes, Master.  I think he memorized them from
close up!  He was SO happy!"

      "How close up?" Robert queried. Merry hesitated. "Don't lie - I'll
call him, then beat you!"

      "He didn't touch me, Master, even accidentally, but he got VERY
close!"  Merry held a hand a couple of inches from her right breast to
demonstrate the distance.

      Robert nodded.  "What else did he do?  Did he - uh..."

      "No, Master.  I told him he could, but he said he didn't feel right
about having me see it - but he also let me know that as soon as I was out
of sight, he probably would!"  Merry dimpled.

      "You definitely exceeded yourself, there.  Bring your punishment book.
I have the entry from when you left it the other day to enter, anyway."
Robert directed.

      Merry, looking crestfallen, went and got it, kneeling to present it.
"You write," Robert ordered. "'A slave offered more of herself than her
master directed.' And 'a slave forgot her punishment book.' Back-date that
one. Now, Did Bert ask for more?  Did you give him anything else?"

      "No, Master."

      "You're sure?  I'll call him, and it will be the worse for you!"

      "I'm sure, Master.  Bert was a gentleman and did not attempt to exceed
your instructions."

      "Aside from the exposure level query!"  Robert was grinning again.
"I'm disposed to be lenient; I'm becoming interested in this streak of
exhibitionism you're developing, and I'm not sure I want to discourage it.
Maybe I'll think of a more interesting punishment... You realize that you
went so far that the idea of Bert having you sexually is no longer far-
fetched?"

      "Um, yes, Master," Merry looked thoughtful.

      "Did you consider that I might now be honor bound to offer you to him
for his pleasure?" Robert continued.

      "Um, no, Master!"

      "Well, you should have! He and I will have to talk, and I will need to
reveal your status to him. With a lesser man, you might have put yourself in
danger of rape!  And while I would make every effort to punish a man who
raped you, incitement at that level would draw YOU punishment, too!  Remind
me of this issue after dinner - I wish to contrive an appropriately
entertaining punishment."

      "Mum!" sounded from the kitchen, "The pasta is going critical!"

      "Go ahead and pull it!  Ask Rick to show you where the colander is!"
Merry yelled back.

      "Mum?" Robert blinked.

      Merry dimpled.  "Mandi is buttering me up.  Apparently, it's an
embellishment on Rick's grand plan to make Mandi a permanent occupant of his
bedroom."

      "Like stirring the pasta pot?  Go take care of the immediate
emergency, and come back.  I wish to speak to you about this."

      "Timing is a problem, Master.  The 'immediate emergency' should end
when it goes on the table, for it to be properly warm."

      Robert nodded. "Get it ready to serve and everyone moving in the
proper direction.  I wish to have a private conversation with you on this
matter, and I will accept cooling pasta to do it."

      "Yes, Master."  Merry dipped, turned, and dashed out, yelling, "Dina!
Bobby!  Dinner!" over her shoulder.

      Moments later, the couple emerged from the den, adding a factor to
Robert's bemused analysis of Merry's parting dip.  Robert eyed Bobby. "How
long have you been here?" he asked.

      Dina responded, "Since after school, Pop.  We're doing homework!"  Her
grin said that wasn't ALL they were doing.

      "Why weren't you in the kitchen?" The kitchen table was the
traditional location for communal homework gatherings at the Nellis'.

      "Mum ran Bobby out for ogling her and Mandi."  Again the grin.

      Robert absorbed Mandi's implied state of dress, then nodded. "This
isn't a freak show, young man."

      Bobby nodded.  "I know, Sir.  I come for Dina, but..."

      "I'm still trying to decide whether I'm happy about THAT!" Robert
replied, "Still, if I were your age, I'd get an eyeful, too.  And Dina
didn't ask my opinion, and can usually handle her own messes.  You're
welcome here - just try to control your usual enthusiasm about broadcasting
this particular situation.  I don't want to be hip deep in voyeurs!"

      "Yessir."  Bobby paused, glancing significantly at Dina.  "The
secret's already out..."

      Robert frowned.  "See to it that you do not extend its transmission.
Go! Eat!"

      "Yessir!" Bobby got out of there, Dina behind him, grinning at her
father over her shoulder.

      Merry got everyone except Robert seated, all of the proper tools and
equipment in place, and left Mandi to preside over the actual dispensing of
the product, returning to Robert, who had seated himself on the couch.
Dropping into the ready position, she queried, "Master?"

      "So, why are they buttering YOU up?" Robert began.

      "Apparently, Master, they are under the impression that despite my
station, I might be in a position to exercise undue influence over you.  I
attempted to disabuse them of this idea, but Rick pointed out that if she
entered this household, it would be as a slave, and I was still senior to
her under those circumstances.  Therefore, apparently, my favor is still to
be curried."  Merry was grinning.

      "I see.  While you are correct in assuming that I will be the final
arbiter in this matter, Rick is correct in certain particulars.  I'm
interested in hearing your opinion."

      Merry's face blanked.  "I have none, Master.  It is not my place."

      Robert rubbed his jaw.  "A proper response.  Nonetheless, I require
you to generate one.  I cannot seriously entertain the idea of bringing
another woman under this roof without understanding the consequences."

      Merry sighed.  "Mandi is a sweet child, Master, and would no doubt be
as much of a help around here as the pair are so anxiously trying to
demonstrate.  I have no problems on THAT score.  I... fear the competition."

      Robert's eyebrows lifted.  "Explain."

      Merry began to examine the floor, rather than meeting Robert's eyes.
"If Mandi enters this household as a slave, she subordinates herself to you.
She cannot be subordinate to me, otherwise.  She is twenty years younger
than I am, in the full bloom of her youth.  Soon or late, you will sample
her - and I cannot compete!"

      Robert shook his head.  "You underestimate yourself," he chided, "One
of the very things that causes you to worry about her - her age - is a two-
edged sword.  I could not possibly consider entering into anything
resembling a serious relationship with a teenager; the gulf between us is
too large.  Besides, apparently you have no appreciation for your current
state.  It is quite possible that when Mandi reaches your age, she will look
nowhere near as good as you do.  One of the joys of cherishing you is that
you have no idea just how beautiful you are!  Finally, I love and respect my
son too much to insult and hurt him by trying to appropriate his woman.  At
this point, I have no intention of dallying with her at all; certainly I
will not do so without his leave."

      Merry smiled gently.  "Rick said that he would require a certain quid
pro quo..."

      Robert raised his eyebrows. "Was he serious?"

      "I think he was.  He muttered something about it being every boy's
fantasy.  Master, where did we go wrong?  Our children are absolutely
amoral!"

      Robert grinned.  "I think we did quite well!  Our children have a fine
sense of what is important and what is ritualistic mumbo-jumbo put in place
to keep the cattle all moving in the same direction!"  He leered, "So, what
do YOU think of bedding Rick?"

      "It's - uh - I..."

      "It's verboten, and you just got wet thinking about it!"  Robert
laughed.  Merry, knowing better than to contradict him, hung her head and
blushed.  Robert continued, "I plan to put off this decision for a few days.
We'll see what they do, and if they appear to be serious.  You may update me
on your feelings on this matter whenever appropriate.  Shall we have
dinner?"

      "Yes, Master." Merry rose and followed Robert into the dining room.

      Dinner was a quiet affair.  Mandi helped Merry to serve, prompting a
comment from Robert about the fact that guests apparently had a better idea
of hospitality than members of his family.  Dina stuck out her tongue and
announced that she had her own reasons for abstaining: "Too many cooks spoil
the omelet."  The fact that she was really supporting Mandi's bid to look
good was not lost on Robert, who had to admit that she looked very good,
indeed, from a purely aesthetic viewpoint.