the real Trish, it’s my alter ego.”
Kelly snorted. “Are you kidding? You could look this good all the time.”
“Oh, yeah. I can just imagine how thrilled my sister would be if I showed up at the office for my list of errands and things wearing leather and studs.”
“Seriously, though,” Kelly persisted. “Forget the leather. With very little effort you could look amazing enough to have men eating out of your hands.”
She wasn’t at all sure that she wanted to be that conspicuous. “I think you’re exaggerating.”
“Oh, yeah?” Sabrina countered. “Let’s ask Elliot.”
“Lee,” Trish corrected her in an undertone.
Sabrina raised her eyebrows. “Lee?”
“Cut him some slack,” Trish murmured, “he’s trying to grow up. Everybody should be allowed to change.”
A smile stole over Sabrina’s face. “You’re right,” she said, and swung around to look at her cousin, who was talking with Stef and Kev. “Hey, Lee,” she called, “what do you think of Trish, here?”
He glanced over. “Hey, I wanted to get married. She was the one who shot me down.”
Sabrina turned back to the group. “There, see?”
Trish rolled her eyes. “He’s just a kid, Sabrina.”
“Well, we’ll just have to take a bigger poll. The casting director for Runway Dreams is here somewhere.”
Kelly raised an eyebrow. “Rob Carroll? You do run with a hot crowd.”
“He’s the Mr. L.A. right now,” Sabrina said.
“And sleeps with anything that moves,” quipped Kelly.
“Picky, picky. We’ll find another man. Shoot, my famous cousin said he’d stop by later.”
“You mean me?” Lee called over.
“No, my other superstar cousin,” Sabrina said fondly.
“You mean Ty Ramsay, box-office hero?” Kelly asked. “Wait a minute. I thought you swore you’d never let him near anyone you cared about.”
Sabrina gave a bashful look. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was just ticked because he’d played hit-and-run with a girlfriend of mine.”
“Your friends ought to know better. You’ve warned us often enough,” Paige pointed out.
“He’s actually a pretty cool guy as long as you’re not dating him,” Sabrina said. “His problem is that he’s just a terminal romantic with ADD.”
“You know, I saw him interviewed one time about Megan Barnes back when they were engaged,” Delaney said. “The way he talked about her was really sweet. He seemed totally sincere.”
“He is totally sincere,” Sabrina said, “fatally so, at least at the time. It’s just a month or so later when the buzz wears off and he comes back down to earth that’s the problem.”
“Okay, well, who else have you got?” Kelly demanded.
“There’s Kyle Franklin. He’s—”
“In the interest of the brotherhood, I’ve got to break this up,” interrupted Kev, walking up behind Kelly to slide his hands around her waist. “Lay off the poor guys. We can’t all have flawless taste and judgment.” He kissed her ear and Kelly gave a goofy smile.
“But give us credit,” Stef said, coming up beside Sabrina to tangle his fingers in hers. “We usually figure it out.”
“That you do,” Sabrina said, beaming at him.
“Don’t you guys start doing that cute couple thing,” Delaney warned, turning to include Paige and her date, as well, who weren’t even remotely doing cute. “You’re not going to win me over. Some of us are just fine and dandy being single. In fact, some of us like it.” She linked arms with Trish and gave a naughty grin. “Now if you’ll excuse us bachelorettes, we’re going downstairs to play the field.”
2
TRISH STOOD in Sabrina’s loft, where the caterers had set up the sushi bar, idly sipping sake and staring out the glass wall into the night. Delaney had drifted off to dance. Normally, then, Trish would have started planning her exit but not this time. She’d never been to a party quite like this one. The hours floated by in a haze of laughter. Every time she stopped moving, she was drawn into conversation. Men smiled, flirted, and it didn’t matter that she was too nervous to talk much because they did the talking for her.
And always, always when she looked up, the Marquis was watching her with that enigmatic smile. Somehow watching him watch her made her savor it all the more. Would he approach? she wondered. Just a matter of time, the words rose in her mind, and she laughed. Whenever she’d heard women say that, she’d wondered how they could be so absurdly confident, how it was that they didn’t understand how capricious romance could be. Suddenly, though, half intoxicated with her own power, she understood.
Trish raised her sake cup to her lips and tasted only air. It was empty, she realized. Turning to the table that held the carafes of different sake, she studied the information cards and reached out.
“It’s bad luck to pour your own sake.”
She knew it was him before she saw the blue brocade at her elbow. Somehow she’d known he’d have a voice like that, deep, with just a faint whisper of roughness. It was the kind of voice that could mesmerize a woman, the kind of voice that put her on her guard. Taking her time, Trish moved to face him.
And saw the sea green of his eyes.
When she’d been in fifth grade, Trish had gotten hit in the stomach during a dodge-ball game. It had been like this, that sudden, helpless sense of all the air rushing from her lungs, that shocking, indisputable contact. From across the room, he’d intrigued; this close, he riveted. His eyes should have been cool, with their mix of blue and green and gray. Somehow, though, they shone with an intensity, a heat that left her staring helplessly back.
Then they crinkled in humor and released her.
Trish gave a shaky laugh and handed him her cup. “I’ll pour yours if you pour mine,” she said lightly.
“At your service, mistress,” he said, with a bow. “And which would you like? We’ve got bichu wajo, if you like herb overtones,” he read off the information card. “Or how about koi no kawa? That translates as ‘love river,’ by the way,” he added, lifting the carafe temptingly.
“How could I say no to a name like that?” she asked, hit with a sudden, almost unrecognizable urge to flirt.
He poured a tasting into her cup. “I’ll take that as a good sign.”
It was strange being so close to him, Trish thought, and yet somehow familiar, perhaps because they’d been watching each other since she’d
