Gluttony

impenetrable blank. “You promised to help me track down some tickets today. For Miranda?”

Kane shook his head. “Any promises made under the influence are null and void. Look it up in the rulebook.”

“Geary, you’re always under the influence of something or other,” Harper pointed out.

He rewarded her with a smile. “And now you understand why I never keep a promise.”

“You’re pathetic.” So much for Miranda’s fabulous birthday weekend. So much for her promise, drunken or not. What was she supposed to do all day instead: lie around the room feeling sorry for herself?

“And you love it.” Kane hopped off the sink and scooped Harper out of the doorway. “Look, I can give you the name of a guy I know, he works the controls at the Oasis Volcano, he’ll probably be able to help. Go see him-and bring Adam.”

Harper wrinkled her nose. “Why would I do that?” The less time spent with Adam this weekend, the better. It was hard enough shutting him out of her life when he wasn’t around. But when he was right in front of her, staring at her with those “love me” puppy-dog eyes, how was she supposed to keep her emotional distance? She was already this close to letting him back in-it was only running into Beth last night that had snapped her back to reality, reminding her that she’d never be able to match up to the pretty princess in Adam’s eyes. And she was sick of spending all her energy to claw her way into second place.

“This guy… he’s got some issues. He won’t talk to strangers-he’ll only help you if he thinks he’s dealing with me. And unless you want to dress in drag…”

Harper rolled her eyes. “I suppose Adam’s got a Kane mask stashed away in his suitcase somewhere?”

“I’ve never met the guy face-to-face,” Kane explained. “He does me favors sometimes, when he’s in the mood. Just get Adam to say he’s me. It’ll be almost as good as having the real thing.”

“You know what would be even better?” Harper drawled. “Having the real thing. You’re really going to ditch me and leave me with… him?”

Kane gave her a condescending pat on the head. “It’s for your own good, Grace. So take it or leave it.”

She hated to lose. And only Kane knew quite how much-which was why, she was sure, he took such a special pleasure in beating her. “I’ll take it.” She sighed, then decided to press her luck. “And I’ll take something else, too.” She opened her palm and held it out in front of him.

“You want me to give you five?” he asked, willfully obtuse. He slapped her palm lightly. “If you insist.”

“More than five, Geary. If you’re going to send me off on some wild-goose chase looking for your skeezy errand boy, I’m going to need to find a way to keep Miranda occupied. And that’s going to cost.”

Kane grabbed her hand and, firmly, pushed it back down to her side. “Just take her with you.”

“It’s got to be a surprise,” Harper insisted. “I don’t want her to suspect anything.”

“And you don’t think dragging me into the bathroom and locking the two of us in isn’t going to make her just a little suspicious?” Kane asked, raising an eyebrow.

She hated that he could do that. In junior high, she’d spent hours in front of the mirror trying to train her eyebrow muscles to work independently of each other, but she’d failed miserably. Maybe the skill was genetic-if so, Harper guessed, it was probably linked to the genes for selfishness, smugness, asshole- ishness, and all the other qualities Kane Geary carried so proudly.

She couldn’t help but admire him.

But that didn’t mean she was going to back down.

“Let me worry about that,” she told him. “Just help me out with this. If you don’t care about helping me, think of Miranda.” From the look on his face, Harper knew it was the right card to play. She knew that, no matter how much Miranda might wish for it, there was no way in hell Kane would ever fulfill her sad little romantic fantasy and declare his love. But Kane knew it too, and Harper suspected that somewhere beneath his preening, posing shell, he felt a little sorry.

Apparently not sorry enough. “Nice try. No sale.”

Harper shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He peered at her suspiciously.

“Sure.” She gave him a perky grin. “No problem. Don’t worry about it.”

“What’s the catch?”

Ah, he knew her so well. “No catch. No hard feelings. I’m sure the three of us will have a lovely day together.”

“The three of you?”

“The three of us,” Harper corrected him. “Miranda, me, and you-together. Just like the Three Musketeers. The Supremes. The Three Tenors. You get the idea. One happy threesome-”

Kane’s smile twitched, and broadened.

“Not like that, gutter-brain,” she snapped. “Like this. You head out on your mysterious mission, we follow. Wherever you go, we go. Whatever you do, we do. And whatever it is you’re up to this afternoon, we-”

“Spare me the tedious details, I get it. You win.”

She met his bitterness with a beatific smile. “Music to my ears.”

“Just take the cash and let me out of here.” He pulled out his wallet and handed her a credit card. “Send her to a spa for the afternoon. Girls love that shit, right? Massages, scented candles, mani-pedis, whatever.”

Harper bit back the urge to point out that, between the two of them, Kane seemed the far more likely candidate for spa-hopping. From his Theory shirt to his Diesel jeans, he was Grace’s only known metrosexual, and damn proud of it. But, credit card not yet in hand, she decided silence might well be the best policy.

He handed her the credit card, along with a scrap of paper bearing the name and number of his “guy,” and then, with a final infuriating elevation of his left eyebrow, reached for the doorknob.

“So where are you going in such a hurry?” she asked, knowing better but too hung over for caution.

“I’ll tell you later,” he promised.

Well, that was unexpected.

“Really?”

“No.”

The awkwardness was new-but it was getting old.

Last night had been their first uninterrupted stretch of time together in weeks, and Harper’s frosty demeanor had given way after the first pitcher of beer. Things had been almost easy between them, and Adam had allowed himself to hope. Until this morning, when she’d once again frozen him out.

Adam knew Harper well enough to understand his odds: hopeless. If he wouldn’t give her what she wanted-and he couldn’t-she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of revealing how much she needed him. And maybe, these days, it wasn’t much at all.

So, after a few frosty unpleasantries, Adam had gone back to bed. But not to sleep. How was he supposed to sleep, knowing she was sitting only a few feet away from him, maybe waiting for him to say something-or, for all he knew, waiting for him to blink of out of existence once and for all.

He didn’t even know why she was still there. He had expected her to leave along