'So were you.' He passed the honey-walnut cream cheese. 'I just got rid of him cleaner.'
I couldn't deny that, though I wanted to. Feeling vaguely in the wrong, I knifed a smear of cream cheese across my bagel. 'Well, next time, let me handle it.'
'So long as you do.'
'You do not dictate who I see, Sean Halloran.'
Joe inhaled sharply at that statement, but Sean didn't bat an eyelid. 'Baloney. We all know this cosy arrangement goes to hell the minute one of us decides to two-time the others.'
'I agree,' Joe piped in. He reddened when I cocked one brow at him but he didn't back down. In fact, he seemed disappointed in me. 'You have to agree it's safer this way.'
Chastened, I dropped my gaze to my plate. 'I didn't actually intend to sleep around.'
'Then it's settled.' Sean flaunted his victory with a flash of teeth. 'All for one and one for all.'
I said nothing. A knot of stubbornness tightened in my chest, the same perverse love of resistance for resistance sake that had made me struggle against him in the back room. I wanted, no, hungered to humble him. He knew it, too. His grin widened. 'You and whose army?' he mouthed, throwing my words back at me.
'What?' Joe asked, sensing the hidden currents.
I suspected Sean preferred them hidden, so I answered. 'I'm going to take him on, Joe. I'm going to see him on his knees to me.'
'Who?'
'Me,' Sean answered, still grinning.
Joe laughed - until the steely set of my face stopped him. 'No, really, Kate.'
'Yes, really.'
'But why?'
'Because he needs it,' I said, and exulted in the flinch Sean couldn't quite hide.
'In your dreams,' he said. He ate in silence after that, chewing angrily and casting the occasional dark look from under his golden lashes - sometimes at me, sometimes at Joe - no doubt trying to predict how sides would form up for the coming battle. That battle was inevitable. I'd upped the stakes with my challenge and, worse, my claim that he secretly wanted to submit. He'd have to devise a truly devious response. The prospect quivered like mercury through the folds of my sex, icy-hot and dangerous. Getting the best of him wouldn't be easy.
I smiled to myself even as Joe tried to cover the tension with idle chatter. He needn't have bothered. I knew I'd revel in Sean's revenge as much as I'd revel in my own eventual victory.
The woman appeared near closing time. I was working in the coffee bar on the balcony so I had a perfect view of her show-stopping entrance. Everywhere I looked, patrons - male and female - gaped at this living goddess.
She had to be six feet tall. A mouth-watering ivory suit draped her hour-glass figure. Its thin velvet lapels swooped over the ski slope of her breast, and its mid-thigh-length skirt bared a pair of lean, seemingly endless pins. Her hair swung towards her chin in a 1920s bob, mahogany-brown and patent-leather shiny. Behind its teasing sway, I caught a glimpse of full red lips and huge, long-lashed eyes.
She glided to a halt beside the Hot New Authors table and paused to survey her temporary kingdom. Intuition told me Sean had sent her, so I was not surprised when her gaze climbed the second storey and locked on mine. My heart rolled over with a funny hiccup. I didn't usually react to women this way, but she was so beautiful it was like meeting a famous fashion model outside the dry-cleaner's. The shock sent my normal barriers crumbling.
Along with everyone else, I watched her spectacular legs mount the spiral stairs.
'Hello, there,’ she said when she finally reached me. She leant across the coffee bar. Her silk blouse released a whiff of Chanel No. 19 - my scent. Somehow, I didn't think the choice coincidental.
'I'd like a tall mochaccino, double whip,' she said, her eyes never leaving mine. She had a slight Southern accent. Her voice was rich and sweet, not unlike the coffee she'd ordered.
'Not worried about insomnia?' I teased, my hands admirably steady on the machine.
The woman shrugged with an insouciance that requires either years of practice or being born French. 'Whether I sleep or not, I'm always entertained. Aren't you?'
'Things have been looking up lately.'
Her painted lips curled at my admission. She tapped her perfect red nails against the black marble counter, then nodded at me. "Those are lovely, dear. By far the prettiest I've seen.'
Out of reflex, I looked down at myself. I wore a grey cashmere V-neck and jeans, and no jewellery. I couldn't imagine what she might be complimenting, but she soon enlightened me. 'Your breasts, darlin'. They're nice and full, but they hang perfectly.'
Her words unnerved me. Besides the fact that they were uttered by a woman, they seemed so familiar.
Now she tilted her head to one side. Her shiny hair brushed her shoulder. 'Now don't get agitated, dear. I'm not here to pick you up - though, believe me, nothin' would please me more. No, I'm just here to deliver an invitation from a friend.'