stopped and turned. A thick, silky black brow rose in question.
“Is Dominique coming tonight?”
He caught the edge in her voice, but being a wise man, he chose to ignore it.
“If she does, she’ll take her usual table.”
She gave a short nod and went in search of the maître d’.
Spence walked away. He didn’t know what it was with women. They had this sixth sense or something. The thing between him and Michelle was long over, even if they often teased each other about “the times we had.” Yet anytime a woman came within sniffing distance of him, Michelle would get all … He didn’t even know what to call it. And Dominique was often the same but for different reasons. Her rationale for the arched brow and tight lips when he introduced one of his dates was that she was only trying to look out for him. “Women can be quite cunning,” she’d warn him, as if he didn’t know. The two of them in the same space was like watching two panthers scope each other out. It was all very sleek and polite but potentially dangerous.
What he did hope, barring everything else, was that Desiree would come along with her sister, if the unpredictable Dominique decided to show up.
It had been a while since he’d seen Desiree. The few times that he’d stopped by the Lawson mansion with Dominique, Desiree had been out, and it had been months since she’d come to Bottoms Up for dinner.
Even though there was no doubt that Dominique and Desiree were identical twins, they were as different as night and day. Dominique was the storm. Desiree was the calm that followed. Although he and Dominique were never a couple—although they’d come really close—he often wondered how things would be if he’d met Desiree first.
For the moment he didn’t have time to dwell on it. He had a big night ahead.
“How about I get you a date, Desi?” Dominique said as they sat on the pool deck, soaking in the last of the sun.
“I don’t want you to get me a date. How about that?”
Dominique twisted around in the chair to look at her sister. “Why not?”
Desiree lifted her sunglasses from the bridge of her pert nose and glared at her twin. “Because I don’t need you to get me a date. If I wanted one, I would have one,” she said, struggling to control her temper. Patrice, her sister … everywhere she looked someone was trying to hook her up with somebody, as if she was some sort of hopeless spinster. Their older sister, Lee Ann, used to be able to run interference, but since her marriage and relocation to Washington with her husband, Desiree had been left on her own to fight off the onslaught.
“Look, I just want you to be happy.”
“What makes you think I’m not happy?”
Dominique’s confusion drew her thin brows together. “How can you be? I mean … women have needs, too, Desi,” she said, lowering her voice as if someone else could hear.
The rims of Desiree’s ears burned. She turned away. Dominique always knew what buttons to push intentionally or otherwise. She could count on one hand and still not reach five, the number of men she’d had in her bed—or whose bed she had been in. Dominique, however, was another story. She was the female version of their very notorious playboy brother, Rafe. Dominique changed men and relationships like nail polish. They were varied and often.
Dominique reached out and placed her hand on Desiree’s arm. “I’m not saying that you’re not happy …. It’s just that I want you to have someone in your life … to look out for you, take you on great vacations, hot dates, massage your feet.” She grinned and so did Desiree.
“I want those things, too, Dom, when the time and the person are right. These two things haven’t lined up for me yet. But they will.” She hoped but didn’t say.
Dominique sighed. “Well, at least meet some of my friends.”
“I know all of your friends,” Desiree said drolly.
Dominique made a face, then suddenly brightened. “Hey, what about a dating service!”
Desiree held up her hand. “Oh, hell, no.”
“Why not? Cyberdating, speed dating and all those blind dates are the rage.” She leaned close. “I’ve done them all.”
Desiree’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re kidding.”
Dominique shook her head. “Nope. And it’s a blast.” She reached for her frosted glass of mango juice and took a sip.
Desiree thought about it. Blind dates, speed dating, internet dating. What happened to dating the old-fashioned way? “Okay,” she finally said on a breath.
Dominique sat up. “Okay … like okay, you’ll do it?”
Desiree drew in a long breath. “Yes. But on one condition,” she quickly added.
“Sure. Anything.”
“Sixty days. That’s it. If I don’t find someone worthwhile in two months, then the deal is off and you will never utter another word to me about my love life again. Deal?”
Dominique pursed her lips in thought. Sixty days was not a lot of time. But if she couldn’t find the perfect hot body to warm her sister’s bed at night, then no one could.
“Deal.” She lifted her glass.
Desiree touched her glass to Dominique’s. “Deal. Sixty days and not a minute more.”
“Fine. But I think this calls for a celebration.”
“What kind of celebration?”
“Harry Connick, Jr., is at Spence’s place tonight. Let’s go.”
Desiree’s heart knocked at the sound of his name. “The place will be packed. We’ll never get a seat.”
“I always get a seat.” She winked. “Don’t even worry about it. So come on. Let’s celebrate this new venture.”
If she decided to go, she’d have a chance to see Spence. Not that it mattered. Spence had women all over him. Not only was he eye candy, but he was also charming and funny, talented and wealthy. She’d often wondered if Spence and Dominique had ever … If so, it was none of her business. “Sure. I don’t have plans and I love Harry.”
“Great.” Dominique popped up. “I’ll call Spence and tell him to hold my table. Show starts at ten!” She sauntered off toward the house.
Chapter 3
When Desiree and Dominique arrived at Bottoms Up, the line to get in wrapped around the block. Dominique pulled up to the valet.
“Evening, Ms. Lawson.”
“Hi, Eddie. Big crowd tonight,” she said, grabbing her purse. She exited the car and Eddie got in behind the wheel as Desiree got out.
“Just go right up front, Ms. Lawson,” Eddie said before
