The Sparkling One

those with substance didn’t think he was worth the effort. Which meant he had to go find them.

Or wait on fate.

Is that what had happened with Katie Marcelli? Had fate dropped her into his lap? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, he intended to take advantage of the situation, because that was what he did. Fate might have brought her to him, but he would be the one getting her into his bed.

9

“Maybe we could figure out a way you could just borrow my hips and thighs,” Brenna said as she shifted to get more comfortable on her sister’s lumpy double bed. Not only was the mattress more like a rocky path than a place for restful sleep, the only light in the room was diffused by heavy lampshades, making it difficult for Brenna to bead as neatly as she would like. She had no doubt that if she did a less than perfect job, Katie would reject the lace applique out of hand.

Francesca smiled in response to Brenna’s comment, but didn’t speak as she continued to work on her face. Not her makeup…her face. While the light in the bedroom might be dim enough to qualify for a mood-lit nightclub, that in the bathroom rivaled the intensity of an operating room. Several bulbs illuminated the bathroom mirror from nearly every angle possible. Francesca had placed an eighteen-inch-wide board over her pedestal sink to give herself a work area for her array of cosmetics.

While Brenna found the various pots, jars, and pencils interesting, what really captured her attention was the fat suit hanging in the open doorway. The foam…what, she thought-Garment? Creation? Outfit-consisted of padded shoulders, full breasts, a bulging tummy and thick thighs. Actually it was everything Brenna hated about her own body. If only she could unzip the extra fifteen or twenty pounds she carried around.

Talk about a miracle, she thought glumly.

She reached for another bead from the small bag and sewed it into place. So far she’d completed fifteen lace flowers. She hadn’t been back to L.A. since Jeff had announced he wanted a divorce. She’d called in her resignation to the job she’d always hated and had only taken because the pay was decent. She clenched her teeth. Just thinking about all she’d gone through with Jeff made her furious. She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw something. She wanted to stab an ice pick through his two-timing heart.

Instead she beaded lace. And fumed. Because if she allowed her anger to fade, she found herself feeling lost and alone, not to mention slightly panicked about the future.

She glanced around Francesca’s tiny bedroom. “I can’t stay here forever,” she said more to herself than to her sister.

“Sure you can.” Francesca applied a grayish-taupe shadow under her eyes. She instantly looked tired and drawn. “I like having you around.”

Brenna smiled. “That’s because you like rescuing people. But if I spend many more nights on your sofa, I’m going to be in physical therapy for the rest of my life. It’s not exactly comfortable.”

“Are you thinking of going back to L.A.?”

“For what? I don’t have any real ties there. I quit my job. I guess I need to get my stuff out of the apartment, but other than that…” Her voice trailed off. She’d been too busy working and taking care of her husband to make friends. God, her life was damn empty. Why had she allowed that to happen?

“We should have him killed,” Francesca said, sounding calm enough to be scary.

While Brenna appreciated the support, she wasn’t sure Jeff’s death would make up for much. It would be too easy. In a perfect world, he would have to suffer.

“Are you sure he’s worth prison time?” she asked.

“Good point.” Francesca turned and shrugged. “It’s just he’s such a bastard. I know your pain is the worst and I want to make it better, but on a personal level, and for the family, I want revenge.”

“We could brainstorm a plan.”

“Works for me.”

“I’ll come up with some ideas while I bead.” Brenna returned her attention to the lace in her hands. “In the meantime, I need a place to live.”

“You could move home.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Moving back to the hacienda wouldn’t be her first choice, but at this point what options did she have? There wasn’t any money. She had worked her ass off to cover the monthly bills and keep up with Jeff’s student loans. Savings had been a luxury they couldn’t afford.

“You know Mom and Dad would be thrilled to have you back. The Grands would treat you like a princess.”

“I could use a little pampering,” Brenna admitted. “Although I’d have to redecorate our old room. It looks exactly the same as when we moved out. My tastes have changed in the past few years.”

“Mine, too.”

“You were smart to stay single after Todd died,” Brenna told her. “You learned your lesson early.”

Francesca shrugged. “My marriage wasn’t all good times and laughter. I’m much happier on my own. Now you get to make that choice if you want to.”

“It’s already made.” Fall for another guy who would only use her to get what he wanted? No, thanks.

“So we’ll be unmarried into our dotage,” Brenna said. “People will think we’re lesbians.”

Francesca smiled, but didn’t look up from the mirror. “Can you imagine how many rosaries would be said by the Grands if they suspected that? They’d need a hotline to heaven.”

As Brenna watched, Francesca used a sharp eyebrow pencil to draw in tiny lines which thickened her eyebrows. She’d already applied fake skin along her jaw line, to round out the shape.

“Are you going for the ugly look on purpose?”

Francesca glanced at her over her shoulder. “I don’t want to be recognized.”

“No chance of that.” Brenna eyed the fat suit. “Doesn’t it freak you out to gain weight instantly?”

“Not really. I know it comes right off.”

Which was true, but made Brenna feel cranky. “I know this is all part of your studies, but I have to tell you that wearing a fat suit is a weird way to get a doctorate.”

Francesca shrugged and returned her attention to the mirror. She shaded more of her face. “Actually today I’m going out in a wheelchair. I’ll use the padded suit later. As for my doctorate, my purpose is to document how people react to me, based on different physical appearances.”

“Oh, I get the theory,” Brenna told her. “I just think it’s strange.”

Francesca reached for a lip pencil that matched the color of her skin. She carefully outlined her mouth, making the curves appear smaller. A tiny dot of a line at each corner drew the shape of her mouth downward, giving her a pinched appearance.

She applied a flesh-colored lipstick which made her mouth practically invisible. Then she reached for her hair- brush.

Several strong strokes tamed her thick, dark hair. She pulled it into a severe bun, after which she sprinkled baby powder on her hands and smoothed it over her sleek hair. Dark brown faded to muddy gray. Heavily rimmed glasses and a shapeless dress completed her transformation. She turned to face her sister.

“What do you think?”

Brenna wrinkled her nose in distaste. “You’re my sister and I really love you, but I have to tell you, sometimes you scare me.”

Several tables clustered together on one side of the vast hotel ballroom. Try as he might, Zach couldn’t imagine the space filled with two thousand guests, nor did he have any interest in the china chosen for the event. But when Katie had asked him to drop by the hotel to make the final seating choice, he’d found himself agreeing. Maybe it was because hotels were filled with beds and he was determined to get her into one.