it off.”
“I’m not sure this is smart.”
“Hey, you said Devlin wanted you dressed to distract. Trust me. This’ll distract every living, breathing man within a ten-mile radius. Maybe fifty miles. How are you planning to wear your hair?”
“Up.”
Trinity planted her hands on her hips and tilted her head to one side, her spiky black hair, slanted green eyes and gorgeous golden-brown skin making her look like a cross between a cat and an elf. “I’m torn. The back is cut on the low side. If you wear your hair down, you lessen the impact of it. But you always wear your hair up.” She gathered the length in her hands and lifted it into a loose and careless ponytail, the curls cascading down the center of her spine. “Okay, this might work. Hair has that flirty, windblown look and yet, you can still see plenty of skin.”
“A must, I gather,” Angie said drily.
“A definite must,” Trinity agreed. “Go easy on the makeup. Let your body do the talking.”
“My body hasn’t done any talking for three full years.”
Trinity shot a swift glance over her shoulder. “Girl, don’t go admitting that where someone can overhear you. I mean, that’s just sad.”
“But true.”
“Mmm. You go out dressed like this more often and your body wouldn’t just be talking, it would be screaming out the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ on a nightly basis.”
Angie didn’t dare admit that her body had never screamed the “Hallelujah Chorus.” Hummed a few bars, but that was about as close as she’d come. “What about jewelry?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.
“Earrings. Dangles. Preferably silver.”
“I think I have something that might work. They’re beaten silver, a cascade of twisted hearts.”
“Oh, the irony.”
Angie grinned. “Not that I’m obsessive, or anything.”
“Hell, no. Why would you be?” She gave Angie a hip nudge. “Come on. Pay for the thing and let’s go have dinner and drinks. We should celebrate your release from the land of the average and banal.”
Stifling her qualms, Angie bought the dress and heels, then threw in some ridiculously expensive undergarments that were little more than scraps of lace held together by elastic threads. In for a penny … She found the rest of the evening far more enjoyable than the torture of clothes shopping. Trinity had a flair for distraction. Of course, it didn’t hurt that they split a bottle of wine over an Italian meal.
Several hours later, she sat back, replete. “I should have bought that dress in a size larger,” she confessed ruefully.
Trinity groaned. “Maybe two. It was those bread sticks. They do me in every time.”
“Funny. I would have said it was the tiramisu.”
“Not a chance. Desserts here don’t have calories. The waiter swore it was true. I might be able to give up bread sticks—or at least cut back a little—but don’t ask me to give up their tiramisu.”
“Fair enough.”
“So are you done brooding?”
Angie blinked in surprise. “Was I brooding?”
“He called you office furniture. That’s enough to make anyone brood. But I guarantee The Devil won’t call you that ever again.” Trinity nudged the shopping bags with the toe of her Choos, intense satisfaction sliding through her voice. “Not once he sees you in that dress.”
Angie flinched. “Don’t.” Though she’d never told Trinity how she felt about Lucius, there was no question her friend suspected something. “Nothing will ever happen. Not with him. He’s actually thinking about getting married.”
Trinity’s mouth dropped open. “No way.”
“It’s a sensible decision. He needs a mother for Mikey.”
“And has he found her or is he in the looking phase?”
“Looking.”
Trinity’s hazel eyes danced with mischief. “Well, then. Maybe that dress will have him looking in a whole new direction.”
It was just a joke, Angie told herself for the umpteenth time, smoothly changing the subject. A tantalizing possibility, but utterly impossible. Unrealistic. And considering it as anything else could only lead to one place. Utter heartbreak. She couldn’t go there. Not again. And so she chatted and laughed and tucked her heartache away until she could escape home.
The minute she entered her house, she carefully tucked her purchases into the far recesses of her closet where the outfit wouldn’t be in a position to taunt her for the next few days. And even though Lucius asked for the receipts, she refused to hand them over. It didn’t seem right to have him pay for the dress, not to mention the more intimate pieces she’d bought. Not when she could wear them on more occasions than their business dinner.
Friday came far too soon for Angie’s peace of mind. She left work promptly for a change and refused Lucius’s offer to pick her up. Easier to take a cab to the waterfront. She arrived at Milano’s on the Sound exactly on time. She loved Joe’s restaurant, loved the romantic ambience of it, even though tonight was strictly business. The layout of the interior appealed to her on some basic, feminine level, the overall design making clever use of spacing, angles and elegant furnishings. Joe had even created little nooks and oases that gave the diners the illusion that they were the only patrons present.
Andre, the maître d’, greeted her by name as he offered to take her wrap. She could only assume he had one of those impressive memories that allowed him to pair names with faces. His gaze swept over her in a discreet manner, but one which managed to convey deep masculine approval. It gave her confidence a boost, something she badly needed considering the two men she’d soon be dealing with.
“Mr. Devlin and Mr. Moretti have already arrived,” he informed her in an undertone. “They seem somewhat at odds.”
“Already?”
Andre lifted a shoulder in a shrug that clearly said, “Alpha men, what else do you expect?”
She smiled. “Have they been served drinks?”
“Not yet.”
“I have it on good authority that they’ll be ordering beef this evening. Why don’t you have a bottle of Glenrothes brought to the table. If I’m wrong and they order seafood, swap it out for Old Pulteney.”
“Of course, Ms. Colter. I’ll see to it immediately.”
He guided her to an exclusive section reserved for VIPs. While some of the tables allowed couples to sit hip to hip in the deep, cushioned benches facing the windows overlooking Puget Sound, the table Andre showed her to was a simple round. The two men sat across from one another like a pair of combatants. A vacant chair, facing the windows was clearly meant for her. Great. She loved playing Monkey in the Middle.
