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this is the sort of idea she comes up with.”
    “What did she want you to do?”
    Bryce pressed his eyes shut. “Oh, something about giving free lessons at local libraries and starting up a
    class for inner-city kids. And get this: She wants me to do women’s clubs, like church clubs and
    parent-teacher councils at schools.”
    “Sounds like she wants to bring you some buzz, but a different type than what you’ve been getting.”
    “Yeah, well, cooking with blue-haired old ladies is not what I had in mind.”
    “Well, cooking with supermodels isn’t going to get you back into the good graces of your fans.”
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    “You’ve got it so damn good, Trey. You don’t know what it’s like.”
    “What, taking pictures of models?”
    “Gorgeous, half-naked models,” Bryce corrected him. “And dating those same models.”
    “Yeah, it’s wonderful. I love putting up with their diva tantrums.”
    “I’m not feeling sorry for you,” Bryce snapped.
    “But you’re feeling sorry for yourself ?”
    “No, I’m pissed off that I’ve spent a grand so far on a plan that I think will have me laughed at across the
    globe.”
    “I think she’s hit on something.”
    “Yeah,” Bryce drawled. “My total humiliation.”
    “Nah, Jenna wouldn’t want you humiliated, little brother. She’s not that kind of woman. What I think
    Jenna wants to do is rebuild your credibility.”
    “I’ve got plans to open two more restaurants, and my financial backers are waffling after this scandal. I
    just can’t afford the time, Trey. I need a quick fix.”
    “I think I may have one—a quick fix, that is.”
    “And that is?”
    “In my extensive experience with women, I’ve learned a few things.”
    “You don’t have to brag.”
    “I’m not,” Trey said with a long sigh. “It’s just that I’m surrounded by women all day long. I know how
    their brains work. And what they hate the most is the thing that threatens them the most.”
    “And that is?”
    “A perfect specimen. What you need, Bryce, is to be seen with your average, everyday girl. They don’t
    want to see you with the types you usually go for, not after that slam at housewives. They don’t want to
    see you with some tall, svelte runway model who doesn’t eat. Being seen with someone nonthreatening is
    the first way to take the sting out of your comment. You know, get your fans to believe that you practice
    what you preach.”
    “I’m not going there, Trey. I don’t do commitment. I especially don’t do relationships that could threaten
    my restaurant.”
    “Not every woman is out for what you have, Bryce.”
    Bryce snorted. “Name me a woman who doesn’t want to get her French-manicured nails into a pile of
    green. Look, I’m not parting with half my assets just to get my rep back.”
    “Man, Chrissy really did a number on you, didn’t she?”
    “I don’t need your psychoanalysis. And why should I take your advice? When have you ever been in a
    relationship?”
    “Well . . . I’ll cut your tongue out if you ever repeat this, but it’s not like I’ve never thought about it. I . . .
    there was a time—once—when I thought about it.”
    “Who was she?”
    “Not important,” Trey answered in his typically cool way. “Just know that I, too, have felt the lack of
    someone special in my life. For once I’d like to come home to someone instead of this empty flat. And
    what’s more, I think you want it, too. You’re just scared that you might find yourself another Chrissy.”
    Bryce was indignant. He was not scared, for God’s sake. He was careful. Big difference. But he had to
    ask, “So where do you recommend I find this paragon of female virtue?”
    There was a long pause, followed by a sigh. “I don’t know, little brother. Maybe look around you.
    Maybe there’s someone right in front of you.”
    What did Trey know? Bryce didn’t need a nice,