Love on the Rocks

Startled, he stared up at his sister. “Rachael, what brings you by?” he asked, sliding the magazine into his top drawer and coming around the desk. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“Do I need an excuse to visit my little brother?” She gave him a one-armed hug. “My Pilates class just finished and since the studio is only a few blocks over, I decided to swing by. What are you up to?”

Scratching his cheek, he shrugged with an affected air of boredom. “You know, this and that. Working hard to keep our clients happy. In fact, I was just reviewing contracts when you walked in.”

“Liar! You were checking out Tangela’s spread in People,” she announced, plopping down on the padded chair in front of his desk. “And you were slobbering all over yourself, too!”

Unzipping her leather handbag, she retrieved her copy of the magazine. Shaking her head, she gestured to the cover with her hands. “I still can’t believe it’s her! The last time I saw Tangela, she was a mess. Wailing, crying, rambling about how much she loved you. It was awful. She was a pitiful sight back then, but now look at her.” Her voice was a mixture of awe and respect. “Tangela’s one bad-ass chick!”

“Why didn’t you tell me she was upset over the breakup?”

“Would it have made a difference? You didn’t want to marry her and there was no getting around that.” Abandoning the magazine, she wore a fond smile. “You’re a good man, Warrick, and one day you’re going to make some woman very happy. But Tangela’s not the one. You know it, I know it, and so does she.” Rachael softened the blow by saying, “Don’t look so glum, bro. The breakup was the best thing ever to happen to you. You said so yourself.”

Tongue-tied, he listened to his sister say he was too immature for a commitment as enormous as marriage. Warrick started to defend himself, but the words didn’t come. What could he say? Rachael was right. He wasn’t ready. And at thirty-one he didn’t have to be. He had his whole life ahead of him. Why would he want to ruin it by giving up his freedom? A ball and chain held as much appeal as taking a spin in the electric chair.

“I don’t mean to be harsh, but you get an A in business and an F in relationships. You’re just not the settle-down type and that’s okay. It’s not like Dad has been a good role model.” Eyes soft with sympathy, she crossed her legs and waited a half second before she continued. “Since I’m here,” she began, straightening, “there’s a situation we really need to discuss.”

Notorious for being overdramatic, his sister used the word situation so regularly he never knew what to expect. Was the maintenance light on in her Land Rover? Had his brother-in-law forgotten their anniversary? Or was her poodle, Fefe, sick again?

“I want you to promise me you won’t trip when you see Tangela.”

“Fat chance of that,” he scoffed. “I won’t be in Guadalajara anytime soon. But if I ever make it down there, I’ll be sure to look her up.”

Staring at him, her forehead wrinkled in confusion, she asked what he was talking about. “Tangela got back from Mexico weeks ago.”

“What!” The force of his tone shook the windows. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, she lives in a swanky new singles complex in Canyon Gate.”

“I had no clue. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You didn’t ask.” Rachael rushed along. “Tangela doesn’t want to go to the Hawthorne party because you’ll be there, but I assured her it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“What are you, the middleman now?”

“No, just a concerned friend. Tangela’s dating a new guy and you’ve got…” She paused, as if waiting for divine intervention. “And you’ve got work. You’re both happy, thriving even.”

Sneering, he gripped the arms of his chair. So, that’s what this was about. Tangela had moved on and didn’t want him getting in the way. Wasn’t it bad enough she’d walked out on him? To stick it to him, she’d lost weight, sexed-up her look and lured their friends over to her side. Back in town less than a month and she was already turning his life upside down. Typical Tangela. She might look like an angel, but she was a barracuda in heels.

But as her image passed through his mind, his anger deflated, leaving him feeling empty inside. Learning she was someone else’s girl pissed him off. Stroking his chin, he told himself he didn’t care. But deep down, he did. Who was this guy she was dating? Tangela had always had a thing for men in uniform. Buff, muscular types who made females swoon. Curious about her new boyfriend but worried his interest would be misconstrued, he decided not to interrogate his sister.

“Rachael, I’m not going to cause a scene. Like I told you before, I’m over her.”

Looking hopeful, she said, “You’ve put the past behind you and you’re going to be cordial and friendly when you see her, right, Warrick?”

Warrick nodded absently. He’d planned to skip the party and spend the evening evaluating the New Orleans development project budget, but if Tangela was going, he was going. But where was he going to find a costume at the last minute? As he searched for a solution, another thought came to mind. I don’t have a date. There would be lots of other couples, and Tangela would be there, prancing around the room on the arm of some hunky beefcake.

Second thoughts surfaced. With everything going on at the office, he didn’t have four hours to waste schmoozing with the Las Vegas elite, even if it was for the Hawthornes. Every year, the powerhouse couple threw a Halloween party at their lavish home, and although Warrick enjoyed partying with his friends, he couldn’t muster up the energy this time.

“You made the trip for nothing. I’m not going. I have too much to do around here.” Anxious to get back to work, Warrick thanked Rachael for coming and hustled her out of his office. “Tell the boys their uncle is taking them toy-shopping on Sunday.”

Rachael groaned. “I don’t have any more room in the house for trucks and GameCubes, so keep the new toys at your house,” she suggested, stopping in front of the elevators.

“What will my lady friend think if she trips over an action figure?” Warrick shook his head, a roguish twinkle in his eyes. “Can’t have her thinking I’m one of those soft mushy types who loves children, now can I?”

“Oh, so you’re seeing someone.” Her eyes were bright, round stars and her voice was infused with enthusiasm. “That’s terrific! I’ve been really worried about you,” she confessed. “You haven’t been yourself ever since Tangela left. The old Warrick was fun and outgoing and loved to have a good time.” She added, “I miss him.”

“I wish everybody would quit saying that. I’m not dead, I’m busy. I have a lot going on right now.” The elevator chimed and the doors slid open. Saved by the bell, he thought, ushering Rachael inside. “Have a good time and give my regards to Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne.”

“I will. See ya!”

Alone now, he thought back over what his sister had said. Tangela had some nerve sending Rachael over here to talk to him. He had as much right to be at the Hawthorne party as she did. Hell, more. The couple were friends of his family. Tangela had met them through him, and even though she saw them regularly, it didn’t mean they liked her more. Screw her and her stupid magazine cover. Tangela might think she was all that, but she wasn’t.

Warrick’s gaze fell on the clock hanging across the room. Six-oh-nine. If he hauled ass, he could make a quick stop at a costume store and still arrive at the party on time. Half walking, half running, Warrick sped back down the hall. All he needed now was a date. Names and faces swirled in his mind. Janet? No, she was in San Francisco on business. Maliyah wouldn’t be able to find a babysitter on such short notice, and although Claire was an accomplished pianist, she couldn’t hold a candle to Tangela in the looks department.

Head bent, Warrick considered every woman he knew. He couldn’t invite just anyone to the party. Not when Tangela looked like a million bucks. His date had to be gorgeous, sexy, hot. Someone who’d make the men drool and the women jealous. That was the only criteria and by the time Warrick reached his office he knew just who to call.

Chapter Two

“Where is she?” Warrick asked, his gaze combing the darkened living room. An hour ago, he’d been greeted by Mrs. Hawthorne, ushered over to the bar and offered a variety of cocktails and appetizers. “Are you sure the woman you saw was Tangela?”

The question must have sounded like a desperate plea and Warrick’s friend, Quinten Harris, dressed as one of Nevada’s finest, gave him a scathing look under his fake cop glasses. “Let it go, dog. You guys are all wrong for each other. You’re like a ticking time bomb. You’re good for a couple of months then—” he threw his hands in the air “—ka-boom!”

Quinten laughed, but Warrick didn’t, saying, “Shut up, no one asked you.”

“Just calling it like I see it. Face it, dude, she’s just not that into you.”

Annoyed, Warrick opened his mouth with a stinging retort, but swallowed it when he felt a delicate hand on his forearm. He cast a glance over his shoulder, and found his date staring up at him. The former debutante wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box, but she’d been the Jet Beauty of the Week twice and dazzled in her mermaid costume.

Turning toward his date, he greeted her warmly. “Hi, Alexis. Is everything all right?”

“I see a…an old friend out on the patio. Do you mind if go over and say hello?” she trilled, adjusting her outfit to reveal more flesh. When she popped open a gold compact and cleaned the corners of her mouth with her tongue, he knew her “friend” was a member of the opposite sex. “I won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” he muttered, watching her sail through the French doors. Popular in her own right, Alexis Nyguard exchanged business cards with the men and shared beauty tips with the women. I sure know how to pick them, he thought, when he saw Alexis throw her arms around a swarthy man dressed in a hot-dog costume.

Glad she was gone, he turned back to his friend. “Know anything about Tangela’s date?”

“Name’s Leonard Butkiss. He’s a plumber.”

Warrick chuckled. “You’re yanking my chain.”

“I couldn’t have come up with something that funny if I tried.”

Both men laughed.

“What does this Butkiss guy look like?”

“What does he look like?” Quinten mimicked, shaking his head. Scowling, he reached over and plucked the S embellished on the front of his friend’s costume. “A superhero, my ass. You should have gone with something more feminine like Snow White. You’re too soft to be a superhero.” His harsh, grating chuckle got louder. “Why are you so hell-bent on seeing her, anyway? It’s about the car, isn’t it?”