“It would. Think of how much Walker loves you. He’s willing to make the sacrifice and give up your talent.”

“You’re playing me,” she grumbled.

“Maybe, but I’m doing a hell of a job at it.”

“You don’t stink,” she said and leaned back in her chair. “Okay. Maybe I’ll allow them to go somewhere else. But I’m going to insist on catering the rehearsal dinner. What do you think about something with crab? And maybe—”

He groaned and dropped his chin to his chest.

“What?” she demanded.

“Not menus. Please. Anything but that. We can even talk about shopping. Just not menus or food choices or anything food-related.”

“All right. Another topic. My choice.” She studied him. “Are you dating Lori yet?”

Trust Penny to find a new way to torture him. She was good and he could respect that.

“We’re not dating,” he said calmly. They’d had a hell of a good time in bed the other night, but that wasn’t dating.

“Why don’t you ask her out? You like her. And don’t bother denying it. I can tell when I see you together.”

“I’m not going to deny it. I do like Lori. She’s great.”

She was a whole lot more than that. Pretty and sexy and smart. She didn’t let him get away with crap, which he respected.

Penny’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, my. So it’s possible I phrased the question incorrectly. Let me try again. Are you and Lori involved?”

He couldn’t seem to stop the grin he felt pulling at the corners of his mouth. He had a feeling Penny could see just about everything she wanted from the look on his face.

“We’re involved,” he admitted.

She shook her head. “I don’t know what to say. You like a woman you’re involved with. It’s not convenience or something to do to fill the time. This means something to you. Have you figured out that makes you practically normal?”

“I’ll never be normal, but don’t sweat it. Lori can handle me. No problem.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“SHE WAS JUST SO imperious,” Lori complained. “Ask for Ramon. Tell him I sent you. Who does she think she is? European royalty? She’s some old woman with a broken hip. I don’t take orders from her.”

Madeline smiled serenely from the other side of the leather couch in the quietly elegant, upscale salon.

“Poor Gloria,” she said. “All this angst because she gave you the name of her hair person, as a favor, in case you forgot. As for taking orders from her, you kind of do. It’s part of the job description.”

Lori cupped her impossibly large latte and scowled. “If you’re going to be logical, we’re not having this conversation. I just can’t believe I’m here. What was I thinking? Nothing can be done with my hair. It’s impossible. Reid won’t even notice, and if he does he’ll think it’s hideous.”

Madeline sipped her own coffee. “Reid?” she asked innocently. “Why would he matter?”

Lori stared at her sister. “I’ll kill you, I swear. Don’t test me.”

“Oooh, violence. So it must be about him. Besides, you’ve never been willing to do anything for a man. Why is this one different?”

“He just is,” Lori muttered, not wanting to get into something she hadn’t totally figured out for herself.

Madeline smiled kindly. “Reid already thinks you’re great. He’s falling for you.”

As much as Lori wanted that to be true, she knew better. “One night of sex does not a relationship make.”

“Sometimes it helps. Why would he risk being intimate with someone he has to see every day if he didn’t care?”

“I don’t know. It had been a long time and I was accessible? Gloria warned me about him. I should have listened.”

“Honey, you were gone from the moment you saw him.”

It was true, although she’d rather be tortured than admit it. “I’m not like them,” she said instead. “Those other women he sleeps with. I’m not all fluff and beauty.”

“So he’s changing. Now he wants a little substance with his pretty. Why is that a bad thing?”

Because those words would never describe her, Lori thought, more resigned than hurt.

“I can’t do it,” she mumbled. “I won’t.”

“So you’re going to give up?” her sister asked. “That’s terrific. You meet a great guy you can’t stop thinking about and for reasons that make absolutely no sense, you walk away without even trying. Does it ever occur to you that the best things in life require a risk? They don’t just show up and shower you with everything you want.”

Lori set down her coffee a little harder than necessary. “Easy for you to say. If I remember correctly, that pretty much describes your life. When did you ever work for anything?”

“I showed up and got the job done,” Madeline said quietly. “Yes, I had some advantages. I know that, and they helped. Maybe being pretty got me on the cheerleading team, but it didn’t keep me there. I had to bust my ass to learn the routines. College wasn’t easy for me, either.”

“Did studying get in the way of your social life?”

Lori hated how she sounded even as she spoke. When she least expected it, she got lost in the bitterness of her past.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “This isn’t about you, and I know it. I’m overreacting.”

“I know.” Her sister smiled at her. “You’re afraid. You’ve never really tried before when it came to a guy.”

“Ouch. I’m trying to bond here. Stop pissing me off.”

“I’m telling you the truth and you know it. I’ve loved you from the second you were born, Lori. You’re my best friend. I want so much for you, yet over and over again I’ve watched you walk away from what you want because you’re not willing to take a chance. I would hate to see you lose Reid for that reason.”

“I don’t know that I have him,” Lori told her. “I don’t think I do.”

“Then go after him.”

“Easy for you to say. When have you been hurt by a guy?”

As soon as the words were out, Lori desperately wanted them back.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Madeline shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m the perfect one, remember?”

It was an old joke between them, but this time it was hard for Lori to smile.

“I know it’s hard for you,” Madeline said. “You want him and he’s amazing and that terrifies you. But you have to try. He’s too good to let go.”

“I don’t know how to compete with those other women. We have nothing in common.”

“Has it occurred to you that that might be a good thing? You’ve told me that Reid isn’t into relationships. He’s more a one-night-stand kind of guy. But that’s not happening with you.”

“Technically it was just the one night,” she muttered, then shrugged. “But yeah, he’s not hiding from me or anything.”

“So maybe you’re exactly what he’s looking for.”

“Maybe I’m not.”

Madeline frowned. “I’ve had it with you. I’m dying, dammit, so you have to listen to me. You care about this guy. You’re going to be fully engaged during this relationship. You’re going to give it your all and if it ends badly, then you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you have nothing to regret.”

Except possibly a heart that could never be whole again.

But instead Lori said, “I hate it when you play the death card.”

“Go with your strengths, baby. Besides, the hair can be just the beginning. We can do a whole makeover thing. Clothes, makeup. You’ll make Reid crazy.”

While Lori liked the sound of that, there was still reality to face. “I’m not…you know…pretty.”

“Of course you are. Or you can be. You hide in those hideous scrubs, or that.” She pointed at Lori’s sweater.

Lori glanced down at the plain brown sweater she wore over jeans. “What?”

“It’s the definition of ugly. It’s too big and the color sucks the life from your face. You’re a blob in that. You have a great body—show it off. Flash a little boob at the guy. Men are basically as emotionally developed as the average dog. Show them the goodies and they’ll do almost anything.”

“That’s hideously sexist.”

“But true.”

Lori was tempted. She’d always stayed out of the game because it was easier than competing. But nothing had ever mattered to her as much as Reid. Madeline was right. Some things were worth the risk. And if she got crushed like a bug, then she would figure out a way to go on despite the pain. Plus, she could hold the whole thing over her sister’s head, and that was always fun.

“Okay,” she said as a tall, painfully thin man walked toward them.

“I am Ramon,” he said. “Who is Lori?”

“I am,” she said as she rose.

“Ah, yes. Gloria mentioned you had wild hair.” He smiled. “I like wild hair on a woman. It reflects her spirit, yes?”

Lori didn’t have the heart to tell him that her spirit was less “wild” and more “aging domestic tabby.”

“So, what are you looking for?” he asked.

She drew in a breath, then went with the truth. “A miracle.”

LORI WAS STARING at herself in the department store mirror so intently that she nearly ran into a pole. Madeline stopped and laughed.

“It’s you,” she said, sounding pleased. “Honestto-God you.”

“I can’t believe it,” Lori admitted.

Ramon had performed the requested miracle and it had been worth every penny of the hundred-and-twenty-dollar bill.

He’d started by chopping off about six inches of her hair, which had nearly given her a heart attack. Then he’d snipped and sliced and used a razor, thinning her hair and giving her layers. The whole time he’d raved about the various colors in her hair, how she would never need highlights and how beautiful the curls were.

Lori had protested, saying she had weird waves, not curls, but she’d been wrong. Apparently wearing her hair long her whole life had pulled the shape out of her curls. But now, with her hair just below her shoulders, there were curls. Lots of them.

Ramon had shown her how to use a couple of different products that both defined and separated the curls. He’d explained how she could blow dry her hair straight if she had the time and was interested in an upper body workout. Then he’d turned her to face her reflection and she’d nearly fainted.

Her hair was fabulous. Light and sexy and moving, and the color was incredible. Mostly auburn, but with hints of gold and blond.

Before Lori could bask in her newfound wonderfulness, Madeline had dragged her to the back of the salon where an evil woman had waxed her eyebrows. The pain had been intense, but brief. A total makeover had followed.

Desiree had promised a five-minute routine that would change everything. Lori had timed her. The makeup had taken seven minutes, but when she’d seen the results she decided not to complain about the extra time.

Her skin was luminous, her eyes huge. Lip gloss drew attention to her mouth that suddenly appeared full and really sexy.

Now, in the department store, Lori shook her head. “I can’t believe that’s me.”

“It is. Although, honestly, the glasses have to go.”

“I can’t wear contacts,” Lori said, tearing her gaze away from her reflection and following her sister into a department filled with really cute casual clothes.

“There are other solutions,” Madeline said. “Like Lasik surgery.”

“I’m not having a laser burn off my cornea just so I don’t have to wear glasses.”

“Beauty is pain. Besides, wouldn’t you like to see the digital clock in the morning?”

“I can see it just fine.”

“If you lean forward and drag it right to your face. Come on, Lori, it’s perfectly safe. Millions of people have had it done and they love the results.”

“You’re just flapping your lips. It’s easy for you to talk—no one is discussing burning off your cornea.”

“Fine. I’ll let the glasses thing go. Let’s find you some great jeans.”

Thirty minutes later Lori had three pairs of jeans that fit perfectly. She buttoned up the first of the blouses Madeline had brought her.

“It’s more fitted,” her sister said. “See how it follows the curves of your body. That’s a good thing. I brought in some sweaters, too. And look—no brown.”

“Very funny.”

But Lori wasn’t about to complain. She liked the dark green shirt her sister had picked out. It brought out the green in her hazel eyes.

Madeline forced her into colors she would never have tried on her own. Teals and dark purples, a fun sweater in a range of colors from dark orange to pale peach. The pile kept growing until Lori was sure she could feel her credit card trembling in fear.

“I don’t need all this,” she said, although she wasn’t sure how she would pick her favorites. Funny, but when she shopped on her own she hated the process. Nothing seemed right.

Her sister walked into the crowded dressing room with a simple black dress.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Madeline began. “‘Where would I wear it? It’s too expensive. It’s not my thing.’ Yada, yada. So you’re going to try it on and then we’ll talk.”