Page 76 of Just Trouble

I have to razz him, just a little. “So, this isn’t a date?” I pretend to sound disappointed. “You aren’t coming to see me?”

“God, no. You were just here.”

I laugh. “Thank you for that.”

“Ask somebody else to join us if you feel compelled to matchmake. I don’t care. I’ll be eating.”

I spin in my chair considering who I might fix up with Rafe. He’s not bad, even though he’s not my type, and some women might love how much money he has. Cameron would definitely take him home. Mackenzie? Tough to say. Willow would despise him on sight. “Speak to me of your plans for the evening,” I say.

“Dinner and then dessert.”

“In terms of the company.”

“Conversation optional. Shared plates imperative. Eye candy is always welcome, which is why you’re invited.”

“Sport sex?”

“You are not offering.”

“I am not offering. But I’ll choose which of my friends should join us based on your reply.”

“How can I say yes or no with no more information than that?”

“A scale then. Ten is absolutely. Zero is no chance.”

“Six,” he says with resolve. “Because it depends and even though I might be distracted, I am not dead. Am I allowed to state a preference for blondes?”

“Are you going to be a gentleman?”

He laughs. “Always, Daphne. Always.”

He is. I’ll ask Mackenzie.

“Meet you there. Six?”

“Six,” he agrees.

“And you’re paying, Rafe.”

He heaves a great sigh. “Oh, don’t I always?”

Then we laugh together. “How did you find out anyway?”

“She’s got a website and shared an interview. Honestly, Daphne, I’m salivating already. Whoa. I’ve got to go.”

And he’s gone, dispensing justice to someone somewhere. I follow the breadcrumbs from an online search to Merrie’s new website, from there to The Empire Chronicle’s site—which I’ve never heard of before now—which has posted a pair of audio interviews. One with Luke and one with Merrie.

Go ahead. Guess which one I listen to first.

Girls’night is at Cameron’s this week, which means an evening of pampering. We bring everything for manicures and pedicures, facial masks and scrubs. We wear our fluffy robes and light candles and dance around her living room to the oldies. It’s so much fun.

There’s no question of my missing it, even though I dread the inevitable interrogation.

Maybe there won’t be one. Maybe they’ll read the truth on my face.

“So, are you doing him yet?” Cameron asks when she opens the door to me and I wait just a minute to let her look. Clearly, she expects me to say no.

“I did,” I say mildly and step past her into the house. She gasps and nearly drops her bottle of nail polish. Mackenzie makes the save, then they both stare at me. Since Mackenzie is wearing a facial mask, she looks particularly alarmed.

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