“Thanks for taking the time to see me today, Zach.”
He leaned forward and rested his hand on hers. “I’m always happy to see you, Katie. You know that.”
Was it her or had it just gotten really hot in here?
“How nice,” she said primly and stood. She’d wondered if he would kiss her again. Now that he hadn’t, she told herself she was happy. Really.
He stood. “You’re not easy.”
“That’s not much of a compliment, but thank you anyway.”
He grinned. “I’m not easy, either. If we manage to get through the next couple of months without killing each other, I’d like you to be my date for the fund-raiser.”
The phrase about being knocked over by a feather had never been more appropriate. A date? With Zach? Only a fool would say yes.
“I’ll be working,” she said instead.
“That’s okay with me.” He winked. “I like to watch.”
Zach never left work early and he almost never took Pacific Coast Highway home. But at three o’clock that afternoon, he did both. He drove west to Lincoln and turned south. The congested street met up with PCH in Marina Del Rey. It was a warm, sunny afternoon, with a hint of salt in the air. He opened his car’s sunroof, as well as the windows, inhaling deeply.
Despite his busy schedule, he felt restless. As he headed toward the airport, he saw jets taking off toward the ocean, heading west. Where were they going? Who was on board and what would they do when they arrived? He didn’t want to be going with them, but he did want something…A woman?
He had an answer to the question before he even asked it. Yes. A woman. And not just in bed, although he wouldn’t mind an hour or two of pleasure in a pair of willing arms. No, what he wanted was more than sex. He wanted to talk to someone long enough to grow comfortable. He wanted rhythms and patterns and familiarity.
How long had it been since he’d had a relationship that lasted more than two dates? A year? Longer, he thought. Although he’d never been interested in getting married again-Ainsley and his belief that long-term relationships didn’t work had cured him of that particular desire-he’d always enjoyed the company of women. Generally one at a time, and often for as long as a few months, then he walked away. He might not do marriage, but he was deeply committed to serial monogamy.
It had been a long time since anyone had tempted him for more than a night or two. He couldn’t remember the last woman who had surprised and challenged him. Some of it was his own fault. His position in a prominent law firm and his growing bank balance brought out a certain kind of woman. Those who were more interested in what he had than who he was. He’d gone out with enough of them to earn a reputation. Once he’d dated the shallow, those with substance didn’t think he was worth the effort. Which meant he had to go find them.
Or wait on fate.
Is that what had happened with Katie Marcelli? Had fate dropped her into his lap? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, he intended to take advantage of the situation, because that was what he did. Fate might have brought her to him, but he would be the one getting her into his bed.
9
“Maybe we could figure out a way you could just borrow my hips and thighs,” Brenna said as she shifted to get more comfortable on her sister’s lumpy double bed. Not only was the mattress more like a rocky path than a place for restful sleep, the only light in the room was diffused by heavy lampshades, making it difficult for Brenna to bead as neatly as she would like. She had no doubt that if she did a less than perfect job, Katie would reject the lace appliqué out of hand.
Francesca smiled in response to Brenna’s comment, but didn’t speak as she continued to work on her face. Not her makeup…her face. While the light in the bedroom might be dim enough to qualify for a mood-lit nightclub, that in the bathroom rivaled the intensity of an operating room. Several bulbs illuminated the bathroom mirror from nearly every angle possible. Francesca had placed an eighteen-inch-wide board over her pedestal sink to give herself a work area for her array of cosmetics.
While Brenna found the various pots, jars, and pencils interesting, what really captured her attention was the fat suit hanging in the open doorway. The foam…what, she thought-Garment? Creation? Outfit-consisted of padded shoulders, full breasts, a bulging tummy and thick thighs. Actually it was everything Brenna hated about her own body. If only she could unzip the extra fifteen or twenty pounds she carried around.
Talk about a miracle, she thought glumly.
She reached for another bead from the small bag and sewed it into place. So far she’d completed fifteen lace flowers. She hadn’t been back to L.A. since Jeff had announced he wanted a divorce. She’d called in her resignation to the job she’d always hated and had only taken because the pay was decent. She clenched her teeth. Just thinking about all she’d gone through with Jeff made her furious. She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw something. She wanted to stab an ice pick through his two-timing heart.
Instead she beaded lace. And fumed. Because if she allowed her anger to fade, she found herself feeling lost and alone, not to mention slightly panicked about the future.
She glanced around Francesca’s tiny bedroom. “I can’t stay here forever,” she said more to herself than to her sister.
“Sure you can.” Francesca applied a grayish-taupe shadow under her eyes. She instantly looked tired and drawn. “I like having you around.”
Brenna smiled. “That’s because you like rescuing people. But if I spend many more nights on your sofa, I’m going to be in physical therapy for the rest of my life. It’s not exactly comfortable.”
“Are you thinking of going back to L.A.?”
“For what? I don’t have any real ties there. I quit my job. I guess I need to get my stuff out of the apartment, but other than that…” Her voice trailed off. She’d been too busy working and taking care of her husband to make friends. God, her life was damn empty. Why had she allowed that to happen?
“We should have him killed,” Francesca said, sounding calm enough to be scary.
While Brenna appreciated the support, she wasn’t sure Jeff’s death would make up for much. It would be too easy. In a perfect world, he would have to suffer.
“Are you sure he’s worth prison time?” she asked.
“Good point.” Francesca turned and shrugged. “It’s just he’s such a bastard. I know your pain is the worst and I want to make it better, but on a personal level, and for the family, I want revenge.”
“We could brainstorm a plan.”
“Works for me.”
“I’ll come up with some ideas while I bead.” Brenna returned her attention to the lace in her hands. “In the meantime, I need a place to live.”
“You could move home.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
Moving back to the hacienda wouldn’t be her first choice, but at this point what options did she have? There wasn’t any money. She had worked her ass off to cover the monthly bills and keep up with Jeff’s student loans. Savings had been a luxury they couldn’t afford.
“You know Mom and Dad would be thrilled to have you back. The Grands would treat you like a princess.”
“I could use a little pampering,” Brenna admitted. “Although I’d have to redecorate our old room. It looks exactly the same as when we moved out. My tastes have changed in the past few years.”
“Mine, too.”
“You were smart to stay single after Todd died,” Brenna told her. “You learned your lesson early.”
Francesca shrugged. “My marriage wasn’t all good times and laughter. I’m much happier on my own. Now you get to make that choice if you want to.”
“It’s already made.” Fall for another guy who would only use her to get what he wanted? No, thanks.