"Nothing."

"Why don't I believe that?"

Shrugging, Eve said a little too casually, "Couldn't say really."

Olivia was about to pry it out of Eve when the front door opened and Rick strode in.

"Ladies." He put an arm around Eve's shoulders and kissed her cheek. He turned to Olivia and stopped short. "You look terrible."

"No wonder you don't have a girlfriend. Don't you know that you don't ever tell a woman she looks terrible?"

"Even if it's true?"

"Especially then."

Rick c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at Eve, who said, "She had a rough night and an even rougher morning."

"I see." He surveyed Olivia thoroughly, his PI eyes probably taking in signs of strain she didn't know were there. "Is this about that guy yesterday?"

"No," she said firmly He looked at Eve again. Eve nodded.

"I see. But something else must have happened," he said. She wasn't that upset yesterday."

"Her father came back too."

"I see."

Olivia wanted to growl. "Will you stop saying that?"

"Well, as fun as this has been, I've got to get back to the cafe." Eve hugged Rick and gave Olivia a long look. "Call me."

"Thanks for the coffee. You saved my life."

"That's what friends are for." With a parting smile, she left.

Olivia turned to Rick with an arched brow. "Don't you have someplace you have to be?"

He grinned unrepentantly. "Not really."

She would have rolled her eyes but that'd hurt her head, so she grunted and concentrated on her latte. Maybe if she ignored him long enough he'd leave.

No such luck.

"I didn't know you had a father," he said casually.

"Everyone has a father."

"But not everyone studiously avoids talking about him."

She shrugged. "Maybe I have nothing to say on the subject."

"That'd be a first." Rick stroked his chin, staring at her in careful consideration. "I'm going to end up getting it out of you."

"Can't we just drop this?" she asked plaintively.

"Okay," he agreed.

She narrowed her eyes at him. That was too easy.

"Have dinner with me. I was going to suggest tonight, but I think you need to go straight home after work and get some rest. How about tomorrow?"

"Are you thinking that plying me with food will loosen me up enough to talk? Because it won't."

The front door opened. A woman hesitated in the doorway before coming in.

Olivia put on a proprietor's smile. "Can I help you with anything?"

"No, I just wanted to look around." The older blonde wore a fitted suit and had her hair in a tight twist. She clutched a purse in one hand and a leather portfolio in the other.

The woman didn't look like the kind of person to indulge in sensual underthings but Olivia knew you couldn't judge a book by its cover. "Let me know if I can help."

"Have dinner with me tomorrow," Rick said again when she returned her attention to him.

"You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"

A grin was his reply.

"Fine. Dinner tomorrow." She frowned. "You're not cooking, are you?"

He raised a hand to his chest in mock outrage. "I can't believe you're insulting my culinary talents."

She snorted. Rick had to be one of the worst cooks ever. She was nothing to write home about, but Rick could wipe out a whole village with his cooking.

"To think I was actually going to rent a chick flick for after dinner. Something in black and white."

"A chick flick?" She raised her brows in exaggerated surprise. "Are you trying to get some?"

He shrugged. "Is it working?"

The front door opened again, interrupting her comeback. Gwendolyn breezed in, a colorful flurry that was painful to look at in her current, hung-over condition.

"Hey Olivia! I had the greatest idea."

Olivia winced. The last time Gwen had the "greatest idea" she'd wanted to put a 30-foot, inflatable gourd on top of her building. It'd taken Olivia and Eve several days to convince her that wasn't the look she wanted to a.s.sociate with her store-not in Laurel Heights, where the patronesses were all about elegance and rich luxury, not kitsch.

Before Olivia could say anything, Gwen gasped and froze in her steps, glaring at Rick.

Olivia glanced at Rick, who'd also gone completely rigid, his arms folded across his chest, glaring right back at Gwen.

Interesting.

Rick leaned over the counter and kissed Olivia lightly on the mouth. "Tomorrow night, babe."

With another frown at Gwen, he left.

"I don't know how you stand him." Gwen shook her head, and her mop of curly brown hair bounced frenetically. It had orange highlights this week.

One day she'd have to do something about Gwen and Rick-when she felt normal again. "What's this great idea?"

"I have an idea for a new series. It's going to be so great. I thought I'd have an grand evening showing to launch it. Like New York galleries with champagne and all."

Olivia pursed her lips. Actually, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with that idea. "What's the new series? The tribal theme you did last was beautiful."

"I thought I'd do a deadhead theme. Gourds-deadheads. Get it? Kind of a tribute to Jerry Garcia." Gwen tapped a finger to her lips in thought. "I wonder how hard it is to tie-dye a gourd?"

"I have no idea."

"Anyway, maybe you and Eve could help me brainstorm. I thought we could have a girls' night. I'll supply the cheese and wine."

Olivia grimaced. "I'll pa.s.s on the wine, but I'm up for a girls' night."

"Groovy." Gwen rubbed her hands together. "I'll go ask Eve. I wanted to see if she could make gourd-shaped pet.i.t fours for my gala opening too." She turned with a vague wave and walked out.

Relieved at not having to deal with Gwen's crazy inspiration, Olivia looked for the customer. She was in the corner, fingering a scarlet demi bra that would go beautifully with her milky pale skin.

She needed to play the helpful shopkeeper. Easing off her stool, she tested her balance. Not bad. With a small amount of luck, she might make it to closing time.

She glanced at the time and sighed. Luck and that large bottle of aspirin Eve brought her.

Chapter Seven.

Elaine Adams absently stroked the red lace, her attention focused on the people across the store. It was all she could do not to stand there and stare.

Olivia was absolutely striking.

She didn't know what she imagined the young woman would look like. Attractive certainly, given her father's handsome looks, but Lainie hadn't expected barely tamed wildness.

It made her wonder if Everett had any of that in him.

She winced. Mr. Parker. She shouldn't think of him as Everett. Unseemly considering she was his executive a.s.sistant. No one ever called him that.

The tall, s.e.xy man bent and kissed her boss's daughter. Was he her boyfriend? They certainly looked close.

"Tomorrow night, babe," the attractive man promised Olivia.

Lainie watched him stride out the store. A dinner date. At his house. With a movie. He must be a boyfriend. Or at least a contender.

Covertly, she watched Olivia talk to her gypsy friend. She told herself it was natural to be curious. She hadn't known Olivia existed until last night before dinner-and she'd been working for Everett for seven years.

Only years of training kept her from showing her surprise when she found out the girl in the photo hidden in Everett's desk was his daughter. Calmly, she'd filed away that tidbit of information.

She shouldn't have been surprised. The girl in the photo did have some resemblance to Everett. What she didn't understand was why he kept the picture hidden. And why Olivia never called. And where Olivia's mother was.

Lainie looked down, startled to see she was crushing the bra in her fist. She let go and smoothed out the soft fabric.

"You'd look fabulous in red."

Lainie looked up. Goodness, Olivia was tall. She never considered herself short, but even in her practical heels she stood a few inches shorter than Olivia.

Up close, she could see signs of strain that hadn't been apparent across the room. She wondered if it was because Olivia had no makeup on. Not that she needed it.

Lainie would have killed for lashes like that.

Everett's daughter watched her inquisitively, and Lainie realized she was staring. She cleared her throat. "Do you think so?"

"With your creamy skin, definitely. That bra will look dynamite on you."

For the first time, Lainie gave the lingerie her full attention. It was the kind of underwear a confident woman would wear-one who knew her seduction would be welcome. That wasn't her. She fingered the scarlet lace longingly. "I don't know."

"If I were you, I'd pick the red, but I have a lovely charcoal gray set over here that you may prefer." She strode across the room. Caressing the red bra one last time, Lainie hurried after the younger woman.

"Here it is." Olivia triumphantly held up the bra.

It was beautiful. Charcoal silk accented with a touch of ash gray lace. Lainie reached out to touch it. So soft.

"Try it on."

She hesitated.

"There's no obligation to buy. Pretend you're at a friend's house, trying on her clothes." She guided Lainie to a dressing room, draped the bra on a chair, and left.

Lainie gazed at the bra uncertainly. It was so unlike the functional underwear she wore. She wasn't the type of woman who wore fancy things.

But it couldn't hurt to try it on.

Slowly, she shrugged out of her suit coat and the white man-style dress shirt. She made a face at her plain white bra and dropped it on the chair before reverently picking up the gray one.

"Oh my," she whispered after she put it on.

"How are you doing in there? Did I give you the right size?"