Her friend gave a sharp little laugh. "It's so ridiculously complicated."
"I may look like a blond bimbo, but I'm a pretty damn good listener, you know."
Izzy accepted the offer, leaning back to stare up at the darkening sky beyond the covered walkway. "I've always insisted that I would find my man on my terms."
"And now you have."
"Maybe, yes." She gave a slight shrug. "But what if that means I'm disappointing my family?"
"How could seeing Baron disappoint your family?"
"Expectations. Obligations. All of which I've tried to escape because I felt like my life was my own."
Kinsey listened to Izzy's heavy sigh, realizing that her own family had been protective in their own way, but never in one that either demanded or smothered. They'd always trusted her to rely on the advice they'd imparted over the years.
And though her circumstances were different from Izzy's, she knew the other woman's family only wanted what was best for their daughter. That was the thing about love. "Have they even met Baron yet?"
Izzy nodded. "Last night I took him to Gramma Fred's for pie night."
"And?"
"You know my grandmother. She didn't say much. She just gave me enough pie and ice cream for two people." At the memory, Izzy grinned.
Kinsey followed suit. "Give them time. They just need to get to know him.
You
need to get to know him. It hasn't even been two weeks." When Izzy didn't comment, Kinsey frowned. "You are still seeing him, aren't you?"
"God, yes. And no man-trapping games for me, I can tell you that."
"Oh, fine. Now that it's your turn you've changed your tune."
"I haven't changed anything."
"Then what was that about feeding a man what he needs and playing to his love of sport?"
"Hey, that was you. This is me. And don't pull that all girls for one, one girl for all crap on me. I am not one of the gIRL-gEAR girls, even though
Sydney
is doing her best to claim otherwise."
"So, is Baron going to buy you at the auction?"
Izzy turned her head slowly in Kinsey's direction. "He doesn't know. And I forgot. How are we going to get out of this?"
"You're kidding, right? We're stuck, girlfriend."
* * *
Having agreed to meet Marcus West for breakfast in
Houston
on Saturday morning, Doug had taken the last and latest possible flight out of
Denver
Friday night.
The way the other man had spent their last few phone calls trying to talk him out of leaving
Exhaustion was probably a big part of his confusion these days. He was having more than a little trouble thinking straight about a whole
lotta
things. A big one being what he felt about Kinsey Gray. But right now he didn't have time to think about anything except this meeting and Marcus West's impact on his career.
CuppaCafé
was an Internet coffee shop located at the edge of the downtown theater district. With the influx of new urban dwellers living in the converted lofts and hotels, the café had enough weekend business now to justify remaining open seven days a week.
Doug had never been there, and took a moment to get his bearings, eyeing the high open ceiling exposing duct work and beams, the olive-brown-and-yellow color scheme and the overall streamlined techno design. He liked it. Liked it a lot. Whoever had put the place together knew their stuff.
Marcus was apparently a regular, judging by the banter going on between him and the roller-skating waitress as Doug arrived. He slid into the booth opposite the other man and ordered coffee.
"What kind?" asked the waitress, her spiky black hair giving her the look of comic electric
shock.
Doug shook his head. "Just coffee. No flavor. No syrup. No whipped cream."
She rolled her eyes as if to say
Boring
…!
"Mild or full-bodied?"
It was definitely a sleep-deprived, full-bodied sort of morning. "As strong as you've got."
She skated away across the glossy concrete
floor,
her serving tray tucked under one arm. Doug shook off a
buttload
of skater chick jokes and turned to find Marcus staring—first at the woman, then across the table at him while picking up his mug.
Doug nodded toward the brew, which was definitely more than straight-up java. "What do you drink here?"
"Whatever Alexandra decides I'm in the mood for," Marcus
said,
the corner of his mouth quirked upward.
Doug lifted a brow. "It's like that, huh?"
Marcus shook his head with a snort. "It's only like that in that she knows her coffee and I don't. She gets a chance to show off and I get a nice strong start to the morning."
The waitress skated up then with Doug's order. "This should do you.
Monsooned
Malabar. As strong as we're serving today."
Doug blew over the surface and sipped. The bite nearly took off his tongue. "This'll work."
The waitress gave a look that implied there should never have been any doubt, before skating away. Doug went back to waking up.
Marcus laughed. "Man, I don't think I've ever seen you look like such crap."
Doug wasn't about to fess up to the doubts that had to be showing in his face. Especially not to a client. "Let's see you split your time between two media firms. Five hundred bucks says your knuckles will be dragging the ground, too."
"Ah, but that won't be happening. I didn't pour my life into Media West to give it up should some
Forbes
firm come calling." Marcus lifted his coffee and drank, then returned the mug to the table. "I'd much rather
be
the big fish in the little pond than lost at sea."
"I'm certified to dive to one-hundred-and-fifty feet. I'll be fine." Doug read the skepticism in the other man's expression. "You think I'm feeding you a load of bull."
Marcus looked out the window at the early morning
Houston
foot traffic, looked back and shook his head. "It's not that, Doug. It's just that I don't want you going half-assed into my build-out, or packing it in halfway through the project."
Doug felt his gut clench tight. "And you think that's going to happen? After all the work I've done for you?"
"I don't think it will happen, no. But things come up. Things go wrong. A
screwup
in
Denver
puts you behind on things here."
Yeah. He knew. "
Which is why Reuben
Bettis
is covering me on this end.
"
"I'm not hiring Neville and
Bettis
. I'm hiring Neville and Storey." Marcus's gaze narrowed. "I'm hiring you, Doug. And I don't want to get boned because you're stuck at a hundred-and-fifty feet and can't find your way back to the surface."
Doug sipped at his coffee, taking the time he needed to get his temper under control. "Give me some credit here, Marcus. If you can't trust me, at least keep my track record in mind."
"Including the meeting you didn't make it to?"
"If that's going to make a difference, then yeah. Include it." Doug was starting to get pissed off—but, strangely, at himself more than at Marcus.
Marcus sat back in the booth, draped his arms along the smooth gold vinyl. "Just wanting to be on the same page here, man. That's all."
"Then the same page it is," Doug said, wondering for not the first time if any more of the decisions he'd made lately were going to haunt him forever.
* * *
What she was supposed to do, exactly, remained a mystery until Saturday and Macy Webb's
gAME
night. The monthly gIRL-gEAR get-together had been a tradition since the launch of Macy's popular
gIRL
gAMES
column.
Due to Poe's insistence, Kinsey had been forced to put Doug off when he'd told her he'd swing by and pick her up. Poe had hinted at a plan, but hadn't given Kinsey any details to work with. She'd simply told Doug he was in for a surprise.
Tonight the
gAME
theme was Junior High, and the gang of usual suspects was getting together at Lauren and Anton's place, as Macy and Leo Redding were having new Italian tile installed in the loft they shared to replace hardwood floors damaged by leaky pipes.
The cast of regulars put Macy's fun-time concepts through their paces, working out the kinks before the ideas went up on the site as sexy party games.
Macy and Leo, in fact, had hooked up during her infamous scavenger hunt a year or so ago. That same game had paired Chloe Zuniga with Eric
Haydon
, and ended with the winner, Ray Coffey, walking away with the prize of a cruise on Sydney's father's yacht—a vacation trip that had ended up being the catalyst for Sydney's romance with Ray.
Though Kinsey had been a part of the shipwrecked cruise that had landed on Coconut
Caye
, she had missed that particular
gAME
night because of her parents' return from an extended European vacation.
As important as she held her extended gIRL-gEAR family, her mother and father would always come first.
And
her
and Doug's conflicting view on family dynamics brought her back to her biggest worry about their developing relationship. They didn't share the same viewpoint when it came to the importance of keeping family close, and she feared that difference might rear an ugly head between them.
Though why she was worrying so stupidly now when they weren't together and would never be together if Poe didn't get here with her surprise bag o' tricks—
The doorbell chimed. Finally. Kinsey hurried through the living room to let the other woman into the house.
Wearing slim black ankle pants and a matching black shell, Poe stood in the doorway with a garment bag and a professional-style makeup artist's train case, which Kinsey was sure cost a small fortune.
Poe lifted the hand holding the clothing to remove her sunglasses. Brows arched, she stared unsmiling through Kinsey's storm door. "Are you going to let me in?"
Kinsey pushed the door open. The other woman brushed by, smelling of her trademark light spice. "When you offered to help, I had no idea you were going to knock over the Alley Theater's makeup department."
A knowing smile passed over Poe's face. "They only wish they had my tools and training."
Not that she'd ever had any doubt, but Kinsey decided this was going to be interesting.
The storm door latched; she closed the front door and led Poe down the hallway to the master bedroom. "What kind of training are you talking about?"
Poe set the train case on the bed, hung the garment bag over the top of the closet door. She pulled down the zipper and glanced back over her shoulder. "I've been modeling for about five years."
"You're kidding." The woman never failed to surprise.
"Not runway or any national campaigns. I specialize in local work when a special look is needed." She turned to face Kinsey fully then. "And, no. Not just token Asian chick work either."
The mystery continued to build. "What's the last thing you did?"
"I was the face for an anthropology exercise on bone structure."
"Hmm." Kinsey flipped the latch on the train case, her eyes widening at the amazing array of cosmetics. "How're your classes going?"
"I have finals in December. I'm actually taking two weeks of vacation to relax and celebrate once I'm done."
Kinsey glanced up. "And then what? I mean, forensic anthropology is a far cry from fashion. I'm guessing you'll be leaving gIRL-gEAR?"
"Eventually, yes." Poe frowned. "Do you plan to stay there forever?"
Kinsey had always thought she would, in one capacity or another. But then Doug was moving to
Denver
, and she had entertained the thought of how she would answer if he asked her to come along. "For now? The immediate future? Yes. All of my family is here and I can't imagine leaving them."
"I didn't ask about you leaving your family. I asked about leaving the company." Poe crossed her arms, pursed her mouth thoughtfully. "But you'd have to in order to be with Doug in
Denver
, wouldn't you?"
"Well, that's a bridge I'm not crossing because I'll never reach it. Doug's made it clear he's leaving, and he's never even mentioned that he might want me there with him."
"So you're just his good-time girl here, then?"
"I am having fun with him." Kinsey sighed. "And it sucks a lot to think it's going to come to an end."
"Does that mean you've already given up? After one home-cooked meal and one ball game?"
"Fifty home-cooked meals. Fifty ball games. It wouldn't matter." She shook her head. "He's determined to go. And he won't tell me why."