was planning to, but I got asked to work at the spa at the last minute. Now that I finally have my massage therapy certification, I’ve been working as many hours as possible.” Only a year apart, Taryn and Dominique were often mistaken for twins, and despite their furious schedules, they talked several times a day. “Now, pass the phone to Summer. I saw her profile on Facebook, and Ms. Thang definitely needs a talking to. A thirteen-year-old has no business wearing miniskirts and fishnet stockings!”
After chastising her niece, Dominique ended the call. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she decided another trip to her dermatologist was in order. Botox scared her, but a facial reflexology treatment would give her skin a soft, healthy glow. Two hundred dollars was a steep fee, but she was a thirty-three-year-old woman living in a city overrun with college students, and it was important to stay ahead of the competition.
Exiting the bathroom, her thoughts on her sister and the kids, she failed to notice Marcel in the kitchen until he called out her name. “Is everything all right?” he asked, stepping out from behind the granite island. “I don’t mean to pry, but you look worried.”
For a moment, Dominique couldn’t speak. The sensual sound of his voice aroused her, making her feel nervous and excited at the same time. Hoping she didn’t look as stupid as she felt, she held up her phone. “I was just talking to my sister. She was giving me a hard time for not coming over for dinner last night.”
“It’s tough being the oldest, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” she said, puzzled by his assessment. “How did you know I was the oldest?”
Dark, slanted eyes focused on her face, and heat flooded her cheeks. “You’re a woman who likes to be in control, who likes to take care of others. Those are some of the traits of the first child. Am I wrong?”
“Let me guess, you’re the oldest, too, right?”
His smiled matched her own. “I have four sisters and one brother.”
“Your poor mom. All that estrogen in one house makes for a whole lot of drama. I have two sisters, and every time my dad left for work, he’d say he wasn’t coming back!”
“Were you raised in Seattle?” Marcel asked once her laughter died down. “Or are you from somewhere else like half the people in the city?”
“I’m a native. My mom lives not too far from here in Loyal Heights, and my dad…well, he died a few years back.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was his time.”
“That doesn’t make it any easier though, does it?” His features softened. “My father passed away eight months ago, and there are times when I still can’t believe he’s gone.”
Dominique started to speak but stopped. Talking about her dad brought bittersweet memories, and she feared that if they remained on the subject she’d break down like she had at his funeral on that cold November morning he’d been laid to rest at Mountain Gardens.
“I hope you’re going to stay for dinner.”
After spending the past two hours on her feet, she welcomed an opportunity to sit down and enjoy a good meal, especially with such a handsome man. “I don’t know. That depends on the other girls. We came together and…” When Dominique heard a loud shrill of laughter, she glanced at the French doors. Her coworkers were sitting around the patio table, stuffing their faces with shrimp and guzzling goblets of wine.
“I guess we’re staying,” she announced, laughing. “But we better get out there before all the food is gone. Electra used to be an amateur bodybuilder, and I once saw her eat a whole turkey for lunch!”
“Why don’t we sit in the living room? It’s quiet, and we’ll be more comfortable than out on the patio.”
“Shouldn’t we join your friends? After all, you are the one hosting the party.”
“They’ve got food, beer and five very attractive women to keep them company,” he pointed out. “They don’t need me. And besides, I’d much rather spend more time talking with you.”
Her blood pressure spiked. Dominique could feel the energy pulsing between them and wondered if he did, too. He was standing astoundingly close to her, but she didn’t—no, couldn’t—move away. “Well, in that case I just have one question,” she said, slanting her head to the right. “Do you have any crazy ex-wives or baby mamas I need to know about?”
“Not that I know of.”
Dominique wore a sultry smile. “Good, then let’s eat!”
They relaxed comfortably on the sofa and discussed current events while they ate dinner. Conversation came easily, and Marcel loved hearing such a smart, savvy sister talk about business and politics. Overflowing with confidence, Dominique didn’t shy away from sharing her opinion or challenging his views. She loved art and music and shared his passion for literature. Without fear, she spoke like a woman who had all of the answers to life’s problems, and when she closed her eyes and began reciting a Prodigal C. Lewis poem, he was blown away.
“The beauty of your smile consumes my soul; lost, I turn to you for self-control.” She whispered the lines, the words flowing gracefully off her lips. “For love and all the pleasures it can give, are found in you and we’ll eternally live.” Dominique placed a hand on her chest. “Have you ever heard anything so moving?”
“I toured Prodigal C. Lewis’s village when I went to Marco Island a few years ago.” Hoping to impress her, he spoke truthfully about the experience. “Seeing his childhood home had a profound effect on me, and even after all these years, I still remember how inspired I felt reading the notes scribbled on his bedroom walls.”
“Wow, I’m so jealous. I’d love to see where he grew up.” Her voice dripped with awe. “Prodigal C. Lewis is one of the most prolific poets who ever lived, and every time I read Enchanted Souls I always break down and cry.”
“Me, too.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Uh-huh. I’m one of those deep, sensitive brothers who isn’t afraid to show his emotions,” he said, fighting to keep a straight face. When Dominique rolled her eyes, he chuckled. “Isn’t that what every woman wants? A man with a soft, tender side?”
“That’s not what I want! That’s how I like my steak!” She tossed back her head and laughed. “The truth is I want to be wined and dined and romanced.”
“Well, in that case, I better keep the Chablis coming!” Marcel lifted the wine bottle and tipped it toward her goblet. “There’s just enough to fill your glass.”
Dominique stretched out her hand, preventing him from pouring. “I can’t. I’m the designated driver tonight, and I’ve already reached my limit.”
“If you need to, you’re more than welcome to spend the night.”
“Right,” she quipped, “me and the girls will sleep on the couch.”
“This estate has five master bedrooms, so if you’re not up to driving, you can all stay here.”
