Nevada instinctively touched her arm. “I’m sure you do.”
Cat drew in a shaky breath. “I should probably cut myself off from people. It’s not right to let them believe I’m like them. I can never be like them. But they’re drawn to me.” She turned to Dakota. “I’m very transcendent.”
Nevada drew back her hand and didn’t know if she should burst out laughing or simply run for the door.
EVENTUALLY THEY MOVED to the table and dinner was served.
Cat focused on Dakota and Montana, asking questions as if she were sincerely interested, then managed to switch the conversation back to herself. Nevada thought it was quite the trick. Even though she did her best to figure out how Cat did it, the other woman was too practiced.
“Do you have pictures of your daughter?” Cat asked.
Dakota pulled out her phone and pushed a few buttons.
“She’s a jewel. You’re so lucky. A baby on the way and this little angel.”
“I’m very grateful,” Dakota said.
“I would make beautiful babies.” Cat handed back the phone and turned to Montana. “I couldn’t help but notice your diamond ring.”
Montana held out her left hand and laughed. “I know it’s kind of big, but Simon was insistent.”
“The perfect man,” Cat told her.
“He is,” Nevada said. “He’s exactly who Montana needed and she certainly saved him.”
“No one for you?” Cat asked her.
“No.”
She thought about the time she and Tucker had spent in the trailer that afternoon, but told herself not to read too much into it. So far Cat hadn’t mentioned him, but that didn’t mean anything. For all Nevada knew, Tucker was upstairs waiting in Cat’s bed.
The thought and the visual that went with it stabbed her in the stomach. She took a deep breath and told herself to get through the evening. She would deal with the Cat–Tucker issue later.
“I don’t have anyone, either,” Cat said. “There are men, of course. Everywhere. But no one is special. I’m beginning to think I’m chasing a rainbow. I’ll never find my pot of gold.”
She picked up her glass of wine. “When Nevada and I met in Los Angeles we had so much fun together. I remember that Hollywood party we went to. Do you?”
“Yes.” She glanced at her sisters. “I was completely out of my element. There were plenty of famous people and I kept expecting someone to ask me what I thought I was doing there.”
Cat smiled at her. “You were charming. It’s hard for me to trust people, but I trusted you right away. You were a good friend and I never forgot that.”
Nevada found herself oddly touched by the admission, even as she wasn’t completely sure she believed it. Who was the real Caterina Stoicasescu? The proud, narcissistic artist who did her best to suck all the oxygen from the room, or the beautiful, slightly tragic woman who lived her life very much alone?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE DOOR TO THE BAR opened and two couples walked in. Jo scowled at them. The place was already crowded. Could they go somewhere else?
She shook her head and knew she was in real trouble when she complained about too many customers. Seriously, she had a problem and she was going to have to fix it. Knowing how was a detail she hadn’t worked out. But, as usual, the source could be traced back to a man.
Everyone blamed Eve for the whole being thrown out of Eden thing; but Jo preferred to think Adam had some culpability. The man could have said no. But no one ever talked about that. If his friends had said to go jump off a cliff, would he have done that, too? Although, since technically Adam and Eve were the first two humans, according to the Bible, Adam wouldn’t have had any friends.
A lovely mental distraction, she thought as she dropped ice into the stainless steel container, put on the top, then shook the martini into submission. But it didn’t get to the heart of the matter, which was Will.
One of the many problems with him was that she couldn’t make up her mind. She knew what she should do. That was easy. Avoid him and say no when she couldn’t. It was a philosophy that had worked for her for years. Yet, when she was around Will, she found herself wondering what it would be like to give in. Just the one time. Except it wouldn’t be one time and then there would be all kinds of trouble.
The truth was men were bad for her. Or she was bad for men. Or both. Smarter to stay alone. Safer. She loved her life here—did she really want to risk screwing that up?
She mixed drinks, took orders and directed her weekend staff. Around eleven, the front door opened again. She felt it rather than heard it, then without even turning around, she knew.
Will.
She told herself that he’d probably come by to tell her that he was done playing games. That she’d had her chance and he was finished. While that would make her sad, it would be for the best. She drew in a breath and turned around.