was still time to claim a migraine or call in an excuse of stomach cramps.
Still uncertain, she reached for a hanger draped with a stretchy garment in sunset colors and sprinkled with sequins. “What do you think about this?” she asked, holding the various straps and scraps of fabric against her terry-cloth robe.
Elise’s laugh burst out.
“What?”
Her sister couldn’t seem to stop grinning. “Oh, I think you’re going to be good for our Carlo.”
Her Carlo, Lucy corrected. “I don’t understand.”
“Let’s put it this way. Getting out of police work and into his own successful business didn’t lighten up the man.”
“Losing a partner to a bullet might account for that,” Lucy defended, frowning at her sister. “Patrick McMillan was like a second father to Carlo.”
Elise sighed. “It wasn’t a criticism.”
Crossing to the bed, Lucy tossed the dress down and then grabbed a bottle of lotion from the dresser and started to smooth the cream over her legs. “What did you mean by it, then?”
“You’ve seen how he’s changed over the years,” her sister said. “He used to smile more. Heck, he used to laugh. But now he ducks from most of the invitations our group of friends sends out, and when he does say yes, he broods in a corner or brings a date who does all his talking for him.”
Like that too-pretty Tamara? Though apparently she was yesterday’s news.
“I don’t think he knows how to have fun anymore.” Elise nodded toward the spangled dress stretched across the bedspread. “Maybe you could make that part of your job description.”
Lucy’s palm stopped halfway up her shin. “Aren’t you afraid I’d botch that up just like I’ve botched up every other job I’ve had since graduation?” She knew that’s what they all thought, even though leaving her positions in the accounting departments of the law firm, the school district and the insurance company had been completely voluntary. It wasn’t that she hadn’t done good work…it was that she hadn’t enjoyed it.
Elise rolled her eyes. “You’ve been listening to our brothers too much.”
“And Dad. And then there’s Mom, who just keeps giving me these worried glances.” Elise wasn’t so innocent, either. All of them couldn’t fathom why Lucy had yet to find the right job.
“Remember,” her sister said, “you’re the baby of the family.”
“But for pity’s sake, I’m not a baby anymore!”
Elise nodded, then leaned over to pluck the almost-nothing dress from off its place on the mattress. “I’m getting that. But maybe it’s time you made it clear to everyone else.”
Oh, great, Lucy thought. Just another item to put on her list. Don’t screw up the temp job, do get over Carlo, do make clear to the public-at-large that Lucy Sutton was no longer in pigtails and braces.
On that last thought, Carlo invaded her mind again.
I see that you’re all grown-up.
A woman.
For a moment she’d actually believed he did see that. That he saw her. But then she’d mentioned Elise’s name and he’d gone distant and cool. No more masculine gleam in his eyes and no more half smile on his mouth. As usual, for Carlo, it was always Elise.
So why should she go through with this “date” tonight? She could comfortably stay home and still torture herself with that particular piece of knowledge.
But no! She capped the lotion with a vehement snap. Elise was right. Lucy should be out there proving she was no longer the Suttons’ silly youngest sibling. Tonight didn’t have to be about Carlo. Or about Carlo and Elise. Or about Carlo, and never Lucy.
Tonight could be about Lucy alone. If she focused on herself, maybe she could move into the future, leaving him the lone soul left wallowing in what-couldn’t-be. Tonight, she should, no, she would go to the party as a single, sophisticated woman instead of a goosey love-struck girl.
Her older sister wandered off, leaving Lucy alone to finish prepping for the evening. After putting on make-up and smoothing her hair into straight strands with the flat iron, she wiggled into the stretchy dress she’d selected, adjusting the straps over her braless breasts and criss-crossing them on her bare back in order to tie the ends at her waist. Then she inspected herself in the mirror.
Okay. This was no baby-sister kind of dress. She’d purchased it at a boutique in Phoenix, at a supersale that even then cleaned out her clothing budget. The colors—ranging from palest yellow to the most passionate pink—mimicked a Southwest sunset and brightened her blond hair and fair skin. She paired it with high-heeled pink sandals and a raspberry lip gloss guaranteed to last all night long.
Through kisses and anything else, the product’s sexy ad promised.
She didn’t let her mind go there, though then it did, even without her permission. But why not? Maybe she would meet an attractive man at the party. Maybe he would kiss her.
It could happen.
She heard the doorbell ring, followed by the distant murmur of voices. Her brother-in-law, John’s, the deeper rumble of Carlo’s.
Her little shiver was merely because the night was turning cooler, of course.
So stifling any second thoughts, she grabbed a gauzy wrap and her evening purse, then headed out of the bedroom and down the hallway. A single, sophisticated woman on the way to a party.
Despite herself, her forward motion stopped just short of the living room. From her place in the shadows, she took in the tableau in front of her.
Her sister and brother-in-law were seated on the couch, Lucy’s “date” standing before them. Carlo was dressed in ash-gray slacks and a matching ash-gray silky-looking T-shirt, topped by a black linen sports jacket. He looked relaxed and, well, rich, the shine of his loafers mimicking the gleam of his dark hair. His mouth curved in polite amusement as John related something funny about work. After a moment, Carlo’s eyes flickered away from his friend’s face to light on Lucy’s sister’s classic features.
It seemed to her that his smile faded and his eyes turned empty.
Perhaps she made some movement then, giving herself away, because Carlo’s gaze suddenly jumped to where Lucy was lurking. Hoping to cover for her staring, she immediately stepped into the living room, her shoulders back, her hips swaying. A sophisticated, single woman on her way to a party.
A sophisticated single woman who watched Carlo’s carefully blank expression turn to one of blatant disapproval.
Her first-day nerves returned with a vengeance. Hives felt as if they were rising all over her skin. She would have turned and run, but her sophisticated, single-girl high heels allowed for no fast getaways.
Carlo Milano didn’t like parties in general. He didn’t like the one he was headed to tonight in particular.
