by Gina Wilkins
She could tell that Scott took in every detail of her appearance in his first encompassing glance. “You look great,” he said. “Red’s a good color for you.”
Compliments came easily to Scott, she reminded herself. It was part of the smooth, charming manner he had perfected. “Thank you,” she said, refusing to be flattered.
“I like your hair that way, too. Very flattering.”
She had swept the sides away from her face with small black clips. She would not let herself be pleased that he’d noticed. Nor would she dwell on how good he looked in his soft brown sweater and crisp khakis.
“You’re sure you still want to go to this thing?” she asked him, giving him one last chance to change his mind.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Wish I could say the same,” she muttered.
Scott laughed. “Lydia, it’s a party, not a root canal.”
“I’ve never minded going to the dentist. But Larissa’s parties definitely cause me anxiety.”
“They’re not that bad, surely.”
She shuddered dramatically in illustration. “You’ll see. I’ll spend the entire evening defending my decision to study science and not art, music or philosophy—all much more worthy pursuits, according to Larissa’s friends. I’ll be attacked by a few of them because scientific study has so often involved animal research—as if I were personally responsible for it. Someone will say my aura looks murky and someone else will want to read my palm or my cards or my toenails. And all of them will be sure to say they simply can’t believe I’m Larissa’s sister.”
“An intolerant group, I take it?”
“Only of certain people,” she said with a wry shrug.
“And what will they think about having a lawyer in their midst?”
“I can’t imagine.”
Looking completely undaunted, he laughed again and took her arm. “Let’s go find out, shall we?”
Lydia felt a ripple of awareness go through her at the touch of his hand. And reminded herself that Larissa’s exasperating friends were not all she had to worry about that evening.
The housewarming party was as noisy, rowdy and unconventional as Lydia had predicted. And as interesting as Scott had anticipated.
Larissa and Charlie had moved into a roomy, converted loft apartment in Dallas’s West End area. The large, high-ceilinged apartment was nearly filled with people. This group believed strongly in expressing themselves with their appearance; Scott saw several tattoos and unusually placed piercings. Lots of long, flowing, rainbow-colored hair—on both genders—and clothing colors ranging from neons to artistic black.
Snacks and beverages were plentiful, but everything was healthy, organic and vegetarian. The strongest drink available was an organically micro-brewed ale; Scott decided to stick with a citrusy fruit punch. Fortunately, there were a few chocolate snacks available. “We’re vegetarians,” Charlie murmured when Scott made the observation. “Not masochists.”
Scott rather liked Charlie.
Wearing tangerine and black, Larissa swept through the room like a colorful tornado, touching everyone she encountered along the way. She towed someone behind her as she approached the corner where Scott, Lydia and Charlie visited. The man’s eyes were almost hidden behind a mop of curly dark hair that tumbled forward onto his forehead. His face was round, as was the rest of him, though he wasn’t particularly heavy, Scott noted, but rather soft, as if he didn’t do much physical labor. His plaid cotton shirt flapped over faded jeans. Though it was very early in March and still cold and damp outside, he wore heavy leather sandals on his feet.
“Lydia,” Larissa sang out, pulling the man to a stop in front of them, “here’s someone I want you to meet. This is Gary Dunston, a new friend of Charlie’s, now a new friend of mine. Gary, this is my sister, Lydia. Oh, and her friend, Scott Pearson,” she added offhandedly.
Gary smiled a bit shyly at Lydia and then Scott. “Nice to meet you both.”
“You and Lydia have a lot in common, actually,” Larissa went on before either of them could respond. “I’ve told you she loves theater and books, and you, of course, love theater and own a bookstore. Why don’t you compare notes while I show Scott my latest painting?”
Larissa had all the subtlety of a steamroller, Scott thought wryly. She and Heather would probably bond instantly.
“Larissa—” Lydia began firmly.
“I would love to see your new painting,” Scott cut in quickly, giving Larissa a smile. Something about this situation appealed to his sense of humor. And, besides, he wanted to score a few points with Lydia’s sister.
Allowing himself to be towed away by Larissa, he glanced over his shoulder to send a grin toward Lydia, who glared back at him as if he had cravenly betrayed her.
The painting was in Larissa’s studio, a big, multi-windowed, nearly empty room off the side of the main room. Scott examined the intriguingly arranged shapes and colors with interest. “Very nice,” he said.
Larissa eyed him suspiciously. “You like it?”
“Very much. It reminds me of snorkeling in the Bahamas—all the bright colors and watery light and waving shapes.”
She blinked rapidly, seemingly taken aback. “Yes, I, um, painted this after Charlie and I got back from a Bahamas trip at Christmas.”
“Is it for sale? I have a perfect place for it in my apartment.”
“We can discuss that later. Did my sister tell you I don’t like lawyers?”
Scott was more amused than offended by Larissa’s deliberately blunt question. He turned away from the painting to face her. “No, she didn’t mention it. But it’s a sentiment many people share.”
She studied his expression through her heavily darkened lashes. “That doesn’t seem to bother you much.”
“I’ve learned to live with it.”
“Laughing all the way to the bank, hmm?”
She seemed to be trying to annoy him. She wasn’t even being particularly subtle about it. But she wasn’t succeeding. He merely shrugged and said, “I suppose some people might put it that way.”
“I understand you and Lyddie have been seeing quite a lot of each other during the past few weeks,” she prodded.
“We’ve attended a few parties together.”
“Lydia has never been very fond of parties.”
Scott shrugged. “Maybe she’s learning to tolerate them.”
“You, on the other hand, look like a man who enjoys a party.”
Wondering just where she was going with this, he lifted an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“Just an impression. Am I right?”
“There was a time when I spent most of my free time at various parties. Not so much now that I’ve gotten older and busier, but I still enjoy the occasional get-together.”
She nodded as if he’d confirmed her guess. “So what do you see in Lydia?”
Was she implying that she couldn’t imagine why he would be attracted to Lydia? If so, she was seriously underestimating her sister. “That’s an odd question. Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with Lydia?”
“To be honest, you seem to have very little in common. You don’t resonate in sync, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do,” he replied dryly. “I’ve never been heavily into New Age terminology. And I think any ‘resonating’ that goes on between Lydia and me is no one else’s business.”
“So do I,” Charlie said, giving his lover a stern look as he entered the studio in time to hear Scott’s statement. “Larissa, you promised me you wouldn’t embarrass your sister or her friend this evening.”
She eyed Scott thoughtfully. “He’s not embarrassed. A little annoyed, maybe, but not embarrassed.”
“She means well,” Charlie murmured apologetically to Scott. “She just isn’t usually tactful about it.”
“It’s okay. I have an annoying sister of my own.”
Charlie laughed. After a moment, Larissa smiled ruefully
and shook her head. “I was just curious about what’s going on between you and Lydia. She hasn’t spent so much time with any guy in…well, in a long time. You can’t blame me for wondering.”
“Of course he can.” Charlie gave her a fond smile as he slid an arm around her waist. “Leave the man alone, Larissa. Let him enjoy the party. Help yourself to the munchies, Scott. And ask Lydia if she wants to join you. That will give you an excuse to get her away from Gary. Last I heard, he was pretty much listing every title he carries in his bookstore. He’s a really pleasant guy but not much of a conversationalist, I’m afraid.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks.” He really did like Charlie, Scott thought as he nodded at Larissa and moved toward the doorway.
He heard Larissa burst into a defensive speech before he was even out of hearing range. “But, Charlie,” she said, “I was only trying to find out…”
Scott didn’t try to hear any more. He thought he knew exactly what Larissa had been trying to find out.
Lydia looked decidedly tense by the time Scott reached her.
“There’s another section that might interest you as a scientist,” Gary was saying earnestly when Scott stopped behind him. “It’s a collection of books on West African healing practices. There are some fascinating discussions of the mind-body-earth connection that you would—”
“Excuse me.” Taking pity on his date, Scott moved to her side. “I hate to interrupt, Lydia, but I thought you might be thirsty. I’m going over to the snack table. Can I bring you anything?”
“I’ll go with you,” she said eagerly, latching on to his arm. “It’s been very nice talking to you, Gary. Perhaps I’ll stop by your bookstore sometime.”
“Yes, please do so. And, uh, bring your friend,” he added with a less-than-enthusiastic look at Scott.
Scott gave him a bland smile. “I would be delighted.”
“Thank you,” Lydia breathed as they moved toward the snacks. “I was afraid he was going to start quoting passages to me next. He seems very pleasant but totally obsessed with his bookstore inventory.”
“Another workaholic.” Scott chuckled. “You and I can both identify with that.”
She groaned softly. “Do I sound that dull when I’m discussing microbes or DNA?”
“I have never found you in the least dull,” he assured her, patting her hand where it rested on his arm.
“If you ever do hear me running on, feel free to kick me or something.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
She frowned at him. “You needn’t sound quite so enthusiastic about it.”
He laughed softly and reached for a snack plate.
“Lydia?” A very tall woman with gold-streaked hair and sapphire-blue eyes approached with a smile. “How nice to see you again.”
Scott noted that the smile Lydia gave in return was a genuine one. “Cheyenne! It’s been forever since I’ve seen you. How are you?”
“Fine, thank you. I haven’t been in town much during the past year. Working, you know.”
“Larissa told me your modeling career is going very well. That’s wonderful.”
“Yes, it’s been a great year. But the best thing that’s happened to me lately is this,” the striking model added, holding out her left hand to display an impressively sized diamond ring.
“You’re engaged?” Lydia’s smile deepened. “Congratulations. Who’s the very fortunate man?”
“He’s a photographer. I met him on a shoot in Italy last spring. We’re getting married next summer.”
“That’s wonderful news. I hope you’ll be very happy.”
“I’m sure I will be. He’s everything I ever dreamed of,” Cheyenne gushed contentedly.
Remembering her manners, Lydia glanced contritely at Scott. “I’m sorry, I’m being neglectful. Cheyenne, let me introduce you to my friend, Scott Pearson.”
Scott had already placed the woman. He wondered if she would remember him.
It seemed she did. Her dramatic eyes widened when she looked at him. “Well, if it isn’t the hotshot attorney.”
He smiled. “Hello, Cheyenne. It’s very nice to see you again.”
“You’ve met?” Lydia seemed surprised.
Cheyenne nodded. “We have a mutual friend. How is Paula, Scott?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I haven’t seen her much lately, but she was fine last time I talked to her. I suppose you’ve heard she’s moving to California in a couple of weeks?”
“No, I haven’t. She’s finally making the big move, hmm? She’s been talking about it for years.”
“She sold her house last week. Looks like she’s really going to do it this time.”
“I know you’ll miss her. You’ve been friends for a long time.”
Scott wondered what, if anything, Lydia made of the emphasis Cheyenne gave to the word “friends.” “Yes, quite a while.”
“I’ll have to give her a call to wish her well with her move.”
“I’m sure that would please her.”
“Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’ve hardly had a chance to speak with Larissa this evening. I’m going to try to corner her for a few minutes to catch up.”
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Lydia murmured as they watched Cheyenne glide away.
“More striking than beautiful. Those eyes are incredible.”
“And she moves with such grace.” Lydia sighed wistfully. “I’ve envied the way she walks ever since Larissa introduced me to her three or four years ago, when they met through a yoga class.”
Scott turned fully back to Lydia then. “You have absolutely no reason to envy Cheyenne. She has a model’s walk, but you have a grace of your own. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment.”
“I know you weren’t. And I wasn’t necessarily giving you one. Just making an observation.”
Lydia cleared her throat. “Those strawberries look good, don’t they? I believe I’ll have one.”
The party was still in full swing when Lydia and Scott left—and would go on for several more hours, Lydia suspected. She, for one, was relieved to climb into Scott’s car and be surrounded by quiet rather than chaos. She sighed. “I’m so glad that’s over.”
Scott seemed amused as he started the engine. “It wasn’t that bad.”
She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “You didn’t seem to feel that way when R. C. Polk pinned you to the wall and tried to get you to agree that he should sue the Morning Star art critic for savaging his work.”
“He didn’t exactly pin me to the wall. He was just passionate about his indignation. I think I convinced him that a critic has the right to express his opinions without being sued for doing so.”
“I heard you suggest that R.C. write a strongly worded letter to the editor. He probably will—a whole ream of letters, more likely.”
“A perfectly legitimate way to express his own opinions of the art critic’s taste.”
Lydia relaxed against the back of her seat, watching the streetlights pass by through the windshield. “You probably made a friend for life when you told R.C. that most art critics seem to be myopic reactionaries who wouldn’t know true genius if it bit them in their posteriors.”
Scott laughed. “I didn’t actually say that. I merely agreed with him when he said it. He seemed to expect me to.”
Lydia abruptly changed the subject. “Are you really buying Larissa’s new painting?”
“Atlantis Dawn? Yes, I am. As soon as I convince her to sell it to me, of course.”
She looked at him doubtfully. “Do you really want it or are you buying it just to be nice to my sister?”
“Trust me, I wouldn’t spend that much just to impress your sister. It’s a beautiful painting. I wanted it as soon as I saw it.”
She couldn’t help but be proud. “Larissa is very talented, isn’t she? I’m so glad her work is finally getting the attention it deserves.”
Since she couldn’t think of a tactful way to find out, she asked instead, “What did Larissa say to you when she dragged you into her studio? She wasn’t just trying to sell you a painting, was she?”
“Mostly she wanted to tell me she doesn’t like lawyers.”
Lydia groaned and covered her face with a hand, appalled by her sister’s lack of manners. “Oh. Sorry.”
“And then she asked whether you and I have been resonating together.”
Dropping her hand to her lap, she whipped her head around to stare at him. “She asked you what?”
His grin was lopsided, displaying his slash of dimple. “I can’t be sure of the exact wording, but it was something like that.”
“What is it supposed to mean?”
“I think she was trying to find out if we’re sleeping together.”
“Oh, my God. I’ll strangle her.”
Scott laughed in response to her threat. “She really was a bit more subtle than that. You should probably let her live.”
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth, of course. That we’re having a mad, passionate affair involving lots of hot, kinky—”
“Scott!”
His laughter filled the snug confines of the sports car. “Chill out, Lydia. I told her our relationship is none of her business.”
The reassurance didn’t make her feel much better. She hadn’t been this embarrassed in a long time. She couldn’t believe she had allowed herself to be put in this situation. She knew what Larissa was like—why had she baited her by parading Scott in front of her?
“It’s no big deal, Lydia. Larissa was just being a nosy sister—much like my own.”
“We should never have attempted to outmaneuver either of them. Now they’re both even more determined to interfere in our lives.”
“Okay, be honest,” he chided her. “Would you really rather have spent the evening with Bookstore Gary? He looked at you as if he wanted to put you behind glass like a rare first edition. And he didn’t seem the type to take a hint easily. The only reason he backed off this evening is because I was there with you.”