It was certainly in line with the flirty Nana Hastings Colin had described earlier. Spencer pictured the toothbrushes again. Was it possible they belonged to different guys who’d slept over? Ew.
Melissa hoisted herself up on the counter. “So does your bad mood have something to do with that guy I saw you with earlier?”
Spencer’s head shot up. “How do you know about that?” She hadn’t told Melissa about Colin during their spa day. They actually seemed to be getting along, and ever since Spencer had stolen Wren, boys had been a sore subject for the sisters.
“I left my sweater at the club. When I went back to get it, I saw you playing with the tennis guy we watched earlier,” Melissa said. “I hear he’s a real hotshot.” She picked up a silver-handled hairbrush and ran her fingers over the bristles.
Spencer hung her head in embarrassment. “It’s no big deal. I don’t really even know him. And he has a girlfriend.”
“A girlfriend?” Melissa echoed skeptically. “Well, it can’t be serious if he asked you out on a date,” she pointed out.
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Oh yeah?” Melissa gave Spencer a little shove on the shoulder. “From what I saw, it was pretty obvious he was flirting with you, Spence. Why would a guy do that if he was fully committed to his girlfriend?”
Because he’s a player? Spencer wanted to say. But despite her protests, Melissa had planted a seed of hope in her mind. She thought back to the day’s events. “It was kind of strange that he didn’t tell me about her until she showed up.”
“Exactly. He wants you.” Melissa cleared her throat.
“Actually, he and the girlfriend are going to Culpeper’s tonight,” Spencer said.
Melissa’s eyes lit up. “Perfect. We’ll get to see how they are in action.”
Warning bells went off in Spencer’s head. “Melissa, why are you being so nice to me?”
Melissa raised an eyebrow. “I’m not. I’m just pointing out a fact. He likes you. You like him. Life is short. You’ve got to take what you can while you can. You never know when the love of your life will, for example, get hauled off to jail.”
Spencer opened her mouth to apologize once more for turning Ian in. She hadn’t done it to hurt her sister—she’d done it to get justice for her friend.
“But . . . ,” she began.
Melissa waved her hand. “No buts. Just go with me here.”
Spencer stared at her sister in disbelief, waiting for her to laugh nastily and tell Spencer it was all a big joke—that Spencer could never get a guy like Colin, and that Melissa still hated her, just like usual. But Melissa just continued to peer at her excitedly. She pushed Spencer’s hair behind her ears, ran her fingers over each eyebrow, and then spritzed her with a squirt of Joy perfume.
“Better,” she deemed. “Now let’s go. We’ve got a couple to break up.”
Chapter 5
If Cosmo Says It, Then It Must Be True
Culpeper’s steak house smelled overwhelmingly like meat, served punch bowl–sized goblets of red wine, and had caricatures of celebrities who’d visited all over the walls. Most of them were famous golfers, singers like Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony, and business moguls who were all featured smoking phallic-looking cigars.
Spencer’s father had finally turned up from his all-day outing, and the family filed stiffly into a banquette. Her parents had had an under-their-breath argument in the parking lot about where he had been all day, and now they weren’t speaking except to tersely agree on the wine. Spencer and Melissa were trying their best to ignore them, canvassing the room for Colin and Ramona.
Suddenly, Spencer grabbed Melissa’s arm. “There they are!”
Melissa turned to look just as Colin’s tall and muscular frame passed through the front door. He had changed into a black button-down, black pinstriped trousers, and a pair of loafers Spencer was pretty sure were Prada. Ramona was with him, still wearing the sexy black sheath dress from earlier. Colin said a few words to the maitre d’, but then Ramona interrupted and spoke over him. Colin frowned at her, looking annoyed, and Ramona rolled her eyes at him.
“Hmmm,” Melissa murmured. “Seems there’s trouble in paradise!”
“Maybe,” Spencer whispered, unconvinced as the maitre d’ led the couple through the dining room and seated them at a table by the window that blessedly wasn’t anywhere near Spencer’s family.
Melissa sipped from the glass of red wine the waiter had just poured. “Get up and strut past him right now. You look super hot.”
“Now?” Spencer felt panicked. It was so public here. Her parents, who were pointedly staring off in two different directions so they wouldn’t have to speak to one another, would see.
“Hold your head high. Say hello to Colin, thrust out your boobs, but keep walking. Don’t stop and chat. Leave him wanting more,” Melissa instructed.
Hold out your boobs? Melissa was the queen of prudes. When a boy had touched her butt during a slow dance in ninth grade, rumor had it she’d slapped him and reported him to the principal. “Where do you get this stuff?” Spencer asked.