by Deb Julienne
“Yes, but remember we’re supposed to change the image. Now, it’s for men too. And believe me Trent does have style.” She turned her head and muttered, “More than you, you pompous windbag.”
He liked her comment. It showed promise. “Please, what style?”
His brother was always on his back to find a real job. Yet Travis had talked the family out of Trent as a stand-in editor as if his brother wanted him to fail. It’d pissed him off. He wouldn’t be here if Travis hadn’t desperately needed him.
“My, my, my. Do I hear a hint of sibling rivalry?” A faraway look in her eyes, she leaned forward, propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her palm.
“Not really, but when you’ve been as highly educated as we, at the finest schools, you imagine something a little more—um—productive than what he’s done with his life. What a waste of a perfectly respectable education.”
“Well, excuse me.” Sabrina crossed her arms and scowled. A tinge of red crept up her face.
He sat back stunned. Oh how he’d love to see into her mind. He couldn’t imagine what specific thought triggered the sinfully devilish expression that flitted across her face.
“I happen to think your brother would do a darn good job. He’d tackle the difficult issues head on and relish the chance to learn something about himself at the same time, whereas most magazines shy away from the more sensitive subjects. You act like you think our magazine is nothing but fluff.”
Damn she had spunk. He pinched the inside of his thigh to control his grin as she blustered on. He opened his mouth to comment, but she cut him off.
“Maybe it is to you, not to me. I take my job seriously. Living on a shoestring, buying cheap make-up, shopping in thrift stores, hoping some highbrow rich bitch gave their last month’s designer clothes away and I can scoop them up for one-tenth the price. Speaking of which, I ruined my dress this evening and no way can I afford to replace it.” She took a sip of water. “Or having to make my own treatments because I can’t afford a day at the spa. Dang it, I can’t even afford a decent Mani/Pedi.” She inspected her fingernails.
He smiled and nodded.
“What’s so darn funny?” she asked.
He froze. Then his mouth twitched. Her angry expression nearly made him laugh out loud.
“Besides, Trent has a terrific sense of humor.” She pointed her bread stick at him. “Remember, Kat hired me, and while I’m glad I’m able to keep my job, don’t go getting any ideas I won’t earn my paycheck. I love my job and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to help Kat—er—you—ah—the magazine.”
It was nice to have someone defend him, for once. “And next you’ll tell me Trent helps little old ladies across the street and leaps tall buildings in a single bound.”
She smacked the table and he expected to see her launch herself at him like she’d vaulted from the pool after the fated volleyball game. “You think you’re so funny. I’d rather work for the magazine than anywhere else. You gave me some bad news today and my heart broke with the knowledge we’d have to lay off several people.”
He felt as if he’d been scolded for stealing a cookie.
Her emerald green eyes threw ginsu knives right between his eyes. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy, but I can guarantee you if you spoke to them the way you’re disparaging the magazine now, they’d be happy not to have to work for you. And if Trent had to do that job he wouldn’t have put down their livelihood the way you just did. He’d have laughed, made some jokes, and never make them feel inferior.”
A crazy rush came over him. He’d like to believe he’d have acted exactly as she painted him. He could barely contain his amusement.
She finally broke eye contact, picked up her utensils and the poor piece of USDA prime choice bore the brunt of her anger. She took a bite, dropped her fork, but aiming the nefarious blade at his heart, inhaled as though about to deliver another verbal tirade.
How could she possibly know him that well? Kat. Had to be her big mouth. “Oh please, you make my brother sound like the proverbial saint. Impossible. I can see it now, Trent in the editor’s office, in his underwear, big screen television on the wall set on the sports channel, poker on the monitor, while attempting to hold a staff meeting. That’s what you’d have if Trent ran your precious magazine.”
“He’s your own brother for crying out loud, how clueless can you be,” she muttered.
He felt like a fraud, yet equally satisfied he wasn’t the only one pushed over the edge by his brother. Maybe he’d portrayed Travis too well. Silence hung over them like dark storm clouds, leaving Trent unable to think. He sure as hell didn’t deserve her defense after the incident in the pool. Trent lost his appetite. He hadn’t meant to piss her off, even if it was a thrill to his ego. He flipped his fork over and signaled the waiter to remove their dinner plates, who returned and handed them dessert menus.
“I’m sorry, Travis. It wasn’t very polite for me to speak to you the way I did. I hope you’ll accept my apology.” She looked genuinely shamefaced when it was all his fault, not hers.
“Nothing to apologize for. I appreciate your honesty, even if it is misguided.” Despite his asinine portrayal of his brother, Sabrina maintained an inordinate amount of diplomacy. Was she doing it because he was her boss? No. He suspected that was the kind of person she was. She was being gracious, and generous for not slapping him across the face and dumping his ass then and there. Point to Sabrina.
“What would you like to do after dinner? Care to go to a play, a movie, or to a club perhaps?”
“What kind of nightlife do you have around here? Is there an upper echelon club open on Monday? I’d like to see how it compares to what we have on the East Coast.”
“Sure, a new club opened a couple months ago. My friends love this place. I’m not much of a dancer. I usually sit on the sidelines and listen to the music.”
“What’s it called?”
“The Metronome. They have great theme nights. Salsa dance, Disco, Line Dancing, and such. It was Jill and Kat’s suggestion.”
“How quaint.” He tipped his head down and glanced at her over the top of his glasses. A gesture that never failed to rile him. If that was Kat’s hang out it had to be a hot spot.
“It’s on the outskirts of Sac, not far from the Arena. Kat and Jill, our other roommate, will be there tonight. If you’d like to go, I’m sure they’ll be happy to dance with you. Me, I have two directionally challenged legs, sorry.”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind, I’d like to check out your little burg, but,” he raised an eyebrow the way he’d expect Travis to. “Dance with my cousin? Sorry, not on my bucket list.”
She opened her mouth to say something then clamped it shut, a look of pure disdain on her face.
They declined dessert. He paid the tab. “Ready to go?” Trent hoped he’d find a way to salvage the evening.
* * * *
On the drive over to the nightclub, Sabrina berated herself for speaking so severely to her new boss. What a pretentious jerk. He might not be Trent but he was still her boss and he deserved respect. Trent must have gotten all the style and class, while Travis got the arrogance and ego. Damn. She did get the DeVito twin. Regardless, it was time to suck it up and play nice.
Sabrina pulled into the parking lot and found a space. “Here we are.”
“What’s the big deal about this place? What makes it the place to hang?”
The neon outline of a metronome swinging back and forth greeted them. The blare of house music came from inside.
“Monday is ladies night. The owner owes his thriving business to Kat and Jill for their terrific playlist suggestions. Besides the theme music, Jill convinced them to bring in a DJ on Monday nights and spin oldies and even open it to Karaoke.”
“Hmm.”
They were early enough Sabrina found a table for four away from the dance floor. Kat and Jill found them, no trouble. Fifties and sixties rock n’ roll was played over the sounds sys
tem.
No sooner had they been seated Kat grabbed Travis and dragged him to the dance floor.
As they started to walk away, Jill started in on her. Jill fluffed her reddish-blonde hair, smoothed down her dress, and danced in place. Jill never needed a partner to enjoy herself.
“How did you manage to hook up with Trent? I mean it’s not like you to even meet us here, and to show up, and with him of all people. Damn girl.”
“Calm down. He’s Trent’s twin brother, Travis. Trent’s in Palm Springs. Travis has taken over the magazine. Guess I’ll see more of him.”
On the dance floor, Kat and Travis carried on a heated conversation. Her hands flew like Jill’s favorite RAW wrestler talking smack.
He must bring out the bad in everyone he meets. Sabrina almost felt sorry for him.
“Holy shit, that’s right. I forgot there are two of those decadently delicious men.” Jill licked her lips and continued dancing.
“Not so fast. Travis is nothing like Trent. I’m glad I met Trent first. Because based on what I’ve seen and heard from Travis, if it wasn’t for Kat, I wouldn’t give the jerk the time of day.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about, Miss Prissy-pants. Chances are he’ll give you the same old line that you’re too sweet to date and you’ll never hear from him again.”
“Don’t remind me of Rick, please.” The night was already bad enough. And with Jill dancing there, looking gorgeous as usual and not a self-conscious bone in her body, Sabrina wanted to disappear. Being around Jill and Kat was always fun, except at the club, where she simply didn’t fit in.
“You’re better off without that schmuck. It was one thing to give you such a bad line. I mean, whoever heard a guy say a girl is too sweet to date?”
“I know but that wasn’t the worst part. Telling me it would be like dating his kid sister’s friend. Really? We were the same age. Only he acted more like a pre-pubescent boy.”
“And let’s not forget what a skin flint he was.”
“No kidding. Who leaves a lousy ten percent tip these days? I felt so guilty I tucked a five under my plate as we left.” Jill’s gardenia scent wafted in the air. She was just like a gardenia. Vivid, fragrant, exotic, and who didn’t love gardenias? At least the fragrance was strong enough to kill the sickeningly cloying colognes some of the men wore.
It was impossible for her to hear a word of what Kat was saying. By the looks of things, Travis couldn’t get a word in. Oh how she wished to be a gnat on his shoulder.
“Back to the topic of Travis,” Jill said. “If you’re not interested, mind if I have a go at him? He’s positively scrumptious.” Jill stared at Travis and licked her lips again, more slowly this time and with a glimmer of lust in her eyes. Jill huffed into her palms and rubbed her hands together.
Sabrina’s clenched jaw ached. He wasn’t even Trent. Maybe it was more the fact Jill never doubted her attraction to the opposite sex. “Oh for God’s sakes, Jill, he isn’t an all-day sucker.”
Jill laid a hand on her shoulder. “Ah, honey, I’m sorry. I’m joshin’ you. What’s the matter? You’re upset. Talk to me.” Jill finally dropped into a bar stool beside Sabrina.
Why did she feel jealous? If anything, she should feel sorry for Travis. On second thought, no. “You’re right. Travis told me today the magazine has to lay off a few of the staff.”
“Ohmygod Sabrina, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe Kat laid you off.” Even in her outrage, Jill looked sexy wiggling to the beat.
“No, that’s just it. Kat’s no longer in charge. She stepped down to go back to school full time.”
“WTF?” Jill stopped chair dancing.
“Exactly. Travis is now the Editor-in-Chief. He said in order for me to keep my job I have to take on two extra columns. And, you’ll never in a million years guess what it covers.”
“Uh-oh, dish.”
“Travis wants me to offer advice to the lovelorn and tips for better sex columns.”
Jill’s laughter rang louder than the music rocking the place.
“What do I do? I haven’t got a foggy freaking idea on those topics.”
“That’s hysterical,” Jill clucked.
Sabrina scooped a piece of ice out of her water glass water and threw it at her friend. It dropped down the front of Jill’s top.
Jill squealed and dug it out of her ample cleavage.
“Serves you right,” Sabrina smiled triumphantly.
Jill dropped the ice back in Sabrina’s glass. She leaned on the table. “And you’re wrong. He is an all-day sucker. And don’t tell me you’d turn down chance for a lick. I’ll flat out call you a liar.” Jill stuck the tip of her middle finger to her mouth and wrapped her tongue around her finger. “Later.”
Sabrina dipped her fingers in her ice water and flicked Jill’s face before she sashayed to the dance floor. He was an all-day sucker, and she wished he was hers.
Jill whispered in Kat’s ear. Both reared back crowing before switching places. Sabrina hated being the butt of their jokes.
Kat joined Sabrina, barely able to contain herself, shaking her head. As she danced beside the table, her Superior Preference LB02 Ultra Light Natural Blonde locks swished over her shoulders.
“Go ahead and laugh, little Miss Bombshell.” She’d given Kat the nickname because she reminded Sabrina of Jean Harlow. Hot enough to have her image stenciled on a B52. “I’m in serious trouble. Travis expects me to take over for the bimbette.”
“Sounds like a real problem unless you’re finally ready to lose your virginity to a good squatchy.” Laughter bubbled out of her.
“Good grief, you and your slang for sex.” Kat constantly came up with unique words that cracked her up or made her cringe.
Kat’s baby blues shimmered, her pearly whites sparkled. She panted then picked up Sabrina’s glass and drained the tainted water.
Sabrina didn’t stop her. Served her right for laughing at her. “It’s not for lack of trying. Find me the right guy and I’ll consider it. It’s the same old thing. Guys don’t take me seriously. How am I supposed to do this?”
“What do I look like, Ask Annie?”
“No, but you’d make a fabulous ghostwriter.”
“Forget it.”
“I’ll get the situations and you can answer the problems. We’d make one heck of a team.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“Wouldn’t it be a bit like falsifying documents? What happens if Tr—Travis asks where you got the information, because I don’t kiss and tell. You might consider doing your own research ya know.” Kat winked.
“Crap, you’re right. What am I going to do?
“Well for starters, Pollyanna, stop glaring at me.”
Cute nickname. Not. “What’s wrong with believing the best of people?”
“Not a damn thing. But not everyone deserves it.”
“I know.”
“Stop by the grocery store and buy a variety of magazines to see how they handle the subject. Grab some romance novels.”
“Magazines, check. Romance novels, no point.”
“Why not? Do you have a problem with them?”
“I guess not.”
Kat never sat at the club. She insisted on blowing off steam, but her constant motion made her voice shake. “They’ll give you an idea what men and women want from one another and how to go for it, regardless of the fact it’s fiction.”
“Doubtful, but I’ll try.” Right now, she’d try anything short of popping her cherry to gather intel. “Titles? Authors? Suggestions?”
“Jude Deveraux. Her Montgomery men are fun, gorgeous, and irresistible.” Amazing how Kat never dropped the beat or the conversation.
“And not real, fictional.”
Kat despised exercise, hated anything to do with it and refused to allow anyone to call dancing exercise. “I defy you not to fall in love with them. Women love those books. You can interpret your answers based on the question
s asked. Who said you needed to have experience?”
“No one, I guess. Only, I wish I had more. It will be like a nun offering advice in Playboy. I mean, can you see me offering advice to the lovelorn?”
“Quit over-thinking it.”
“You and Jill will have to help me with the sex questions.”
“I guess we can, as long as it doesn’t cut into my dance time.” Kat executed an exaggerated step and spin, her statuesque body flowing in perfect time with the music.
Dang it, she needed Kat’s help. She needed her to focus. Kat and Jill were the only two people in the world she trusted enough to ask, no matter how much it embarrassed her to admit.
“Dancing is the only thing that relaxes me at the end of the day. I’ll be glad when I’m finally done with school.” The navy blue knit dress hugged her figure accentuating a healthy bust, tiny waist and slim hips.
“Speaking of school, what the heck is going on?” She’d earned an explanation from Kat and she planned to get it.
Kat shared her strategy to get her degree in finance then go to work for her uncle in the stocks and bonds arena.
Travis returned with Jill. “I’m ready to go as soon as you are. Early day tomorrow.” Something was eating him. He seemed to have lost his annoying attitude. Was it because of Kat chewed him out or Jill flirting?
She grabbed her purse. No way was she sticking around to watch Jill slobber all over him.
* * * *
Trent sat silent on the way home. Between the woman beside him and the dressing down he’d received courtesy of Kat, he was drained. She’d caught onto his charade when he showed up at the club with Sabrina. Travis hated clubs. Damn he should have remembered how much. He’d been able to explain the switch to Kat once he’d made her swear on her life to keep it to herself. He’d continue to be Travis until Travis returned. In return, he’d had to promise to leave Sabrina alone.
