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usually
fizzled out after a short period.
    Most
of the other hostesses had regulars, but none quite like Derrick Hoffman. He
dressed like money, smelled like money, and drove one of only eighty Ferrari SA
Aperta convertibles in the world—screaming money. They met at Georgia Tech over
a year ago, where he’d been earning a master’s in international logistics. They
became friends, and before long he was a regular at the cigar bar.
    Despite
their friendship, she knew very little about his immediate family. His mother and
biological father died in a plane crash, and he never talked about his siblings,
a sister and two brothers. She sensed he didn’t get along with his brothers at
all, but he must have a slightly better relationship with his younger sister
because he mentioned her on occasion.
    “Hi
there, lady,” Derrick said when she walked up. He lowered his cigar and stood
up. “How was your birthday?”
    “Good.
You should have come.” Celeste returned the hug he gave her.
    He
sat back in the seat, and she dropped down into the booth next to him. “Did you
go to Avery’s Juke Joint as planned?” As usual, his wavy black hair was combed
and brushed to perfection. His skin, the color of Caribbean sand, looked as
clear and spotless as if he’d had a facial.
    Celeste
nodded. “We didn’t stay long. We ended up going to a small jazz spot named
Tito’s Lounge.” She purposely avoided mentioning Roarke.
    Even
though she considered Derrick a friend, she wasn’t exactly comfortable talking
to him about her one-night stand. It was private. The idyllic night had come
and gone, and she would treasure the memory. She ignored the way her heart
contracted in her chest, as if cruel fingers curled around it and squeezed.
    “Tito’s
Lounge? Never heard of it. But I’m glad you enjoyed yourself even though I couldn’t
grace you with my presence.”
    Celeste
smiled knowingly. “Right, you were probably with a woman.”
    He
ignored her, but his upturned lips hinted at the accuracy of her comment. “You
have plans next weekend?”
    “Yes,
actually,” Celeste answered in a nasal French accent, “I’m off to Paris for
dinner and a dress fitting.”
    “Don’t
get smart.” Derrick took a puff on the cigar and blew the smoke away from her.
    “I
have to work. You know I hardly ever take time off.”
    “I
have a wedding to go to, and I need a date.”
    “Who’s
getting married?”
    “My
younger sister. The wedding is taking place on St. Simons Island, at the
family’s property. Last time I attended a family event, there was a bit of a
ruckus, so I need everything to go smoothly next weekend.”
    “I
don’t know,” Celeste hedged. “How can I help?”
    “The
woman who was supposed to attend as my plus one canceled on me. I need someone
who’s poised, attractive, and knows me well enough to carry off being my
companion, and who won’t embarrass me. Consider it your belated birthday
present—an all-expenses-paid trip to St. Simons Island. We’ll fly down on
Friday and come back on Monday.”
    It
sounded too good to be true. There had to be a catch.
    “There’s
no catch,” he said, reading her mind. “I need a date, that’s all.”
    She
sighed. “It sounds enticing, but I can’t afford to take off a whole weekend.”
    “What
if I pay you whatever you would make here if you stayed at work?”
    Celeste
frowned at him. “You must really need a date. Besides, I can’t ask you to do
that.”
    “Why
not? You know I can afford it. And since I missed your birthday celebration, this
way I can make it up to you.” He fiddled with the cigar. “But, it’s more than that.
You’ll be doing me a favor. I’m tired of being the black sheep of the family,
and I need to make a good impression.”
    Perplexed
by the thread of bitterness running through his words, Celeste asked, “What is
it with you and your family?”
    “Don’t
you worry your pretty little head about a thing. I need to know I can count on
you to