Donna Hill - Secret Attraction

The rims of Desiree’s ears burned. She turned away. Dominique always knew what buttons to push intentionally or otherwise. She could count on one hand and still not reach five, the number of men she’d had in her bed—or whose bed she had been in. Dominique, however, was another story. She was the female version of their very notorious playboy brother, Rafe. Dominique changed men and relationships like nail polish. They were varied and often.

Dominique reached out and placed her hand on Desiree’s arm. “I’m not saying that you’re not happy …. It’s just that I want you to have someone in your life … to look out for you, take you on great vacations, hot dates, massage your feet.” She grinned and so did Desiree.

“I want those things, too, Dom, when the time and the person are right. These two things haven’t lined up for me yet. But they will.” She hoped but didn’t say.

Dominique sighed. “Well, at least meet some of my friends.”

“I know all of your friends,” Desiree said drolly.

Dominique made a face, then suddenly brightened. “Hey, what about a dating service!”

Desiree held up her hand. “Oh, hell, no.”

“Why not? Cyberdating, speed dating and all those blind dates are the rage.” She leaned close. “I’ve done them all.”

Desiree’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re kidding.”

Dominique shook her head. “Nope. And it’s a blast.” She reached for her frosted glass of mango juice and took a sip.

Desiree thought about it. Blind dates, speed dating, internet dating. What happened to dating the old-fashioned way? “Okay,” she finally said on a breath.

Dominique sat up. “Okay … like okay, you’ll do it?”

Desiree drew in a long breath. “Yes. But on one condition,” she quickly added.

“Sure. Anything.”

“Sixty days. That’s it. If I don’t find someone worthwhile in two months, then the deal is off and you will never utter another word to me about my love life again. Deal?”

Dominique pursed her lips in thought. Sixty days was not a lot of time. But if she couldn’t find the perfect hot body to warm her sister’s bed at night, then no one could.

“Deal.” She lifted her glass.

Desiree touched her glass to Dominique’s. “Deal. Sixty days and not a minute more.”

“Fine. But I think this calls for a celebration.”

“What kind of celebration?”

“Harry Connick, Jr., is at Spence’s place tonight. Let’s go.”

Desiree’s heart knocked at the sound of his name. “The place will be packed. We’ll never get a seat.”

“I always get a seat.” She winked. “Don’t even worry about it. So come on. Let’s celebrate this new venture.”

If she decided to go, she’d have a chance to see Spence. Not that it mattered. Spence had women all over him. Not only was he eye candy, but he was also charming and funny, talented and wealthy. She’d often wondered if Spence and Dominique had ever … If so, it was none of her business. “Sure. I don’t have plans and I love Harry.”

“Great.” Dominique popped up. “I’ll call Spence and tell him to hold my table. Show starts at ten!” She sauntered off toward the house.

When Desiree and Dominique arrived at Bottoms Up, the line to get in wrapped around the block. Dominique pulled up to the valet.

“Evening, Ms. Lawson.”

“Hi, Eddie. Big crowd tonight,” she said, grabbing her purse. She exited the car and Eddie got in behind the wheel as Desiree got out.

“Just go right up front, Ms. Lawson,” Eddie said before shutting the door.

“Thanks.”

Desiree followed Dominique up to the front of the line, bypassing the waiting throng held at bay by a red velvet rope.

“Hey, Charles,” Dominique greeted the bouncer.

Charles looked like a bear but was as gentle as a kitten. He was truly a testament to looks being deceiving. He smiled when he saw her. “Good to have you with us tonight. And, Ms. Desiree, it’s been a while.”

“Good to see you, Charles.”

“Come on in, ladies.” His burly body made a path for them and they stepped inside, ignoring the grumbling at their backs.

Bottoms Up might have been billed as a supper club, but it certainly had an upscale nightclub feel. Two circular levels with multi-rows of tables allowed the seated guests to see the stage from any vantage point.

The decor was chic and avant-garde with smoked glass tables and chairs, muted recessed lighting, gleaming silver railings, mirrored walls, three bars and several private booths for larger groups. Between the dining tables were couches and lounge chairs and, of course, the menu was to die for.

The sisters stepped into the dim interior and were immediately met by the hostess, who took them to Dominique’s reserved table.

Michelle was crossing the room and spotted them the moment they were seated. Her body tensed. Not one, but two of them, she thought to herself. Desiree, the other sister, wasn’t really on her radar. She had always seemed nice whenever they had the chance to meet, and she was cordial, if not almost aloof, when she saw Spence. It was Dominique that was the fly in her ointment. She put on her happy face and walked over to their table.

“Good evening, ladies. Nice to see you both.”

“Michelle, how are you?” Desiree offered a big smile.

Dominique glanced up. “Michelle.” Her gaze did a sixty-second inventory. “You put on a little weight. It looks good.”

Michelle’s jaw clenched. “I love the shoes. They add about what? Three inches to your height?” she said, taking her dig at Dominique’s diminutive stature.

“So, great crowd tonight,” Desiree said, jumping in before she became a casualty in the verbal catfight. “Harry can definitely draw the crowd.”

Michelle drew in a breath and forced a smile. She turned to Desiree. “Yes, he can. We’ve reached capacity and it’s still early. Well, you ladies have a great evening. Good seeing you.”

“Oh, could you let Spence know we’re here?” Dominique smiled sweetly.

Michelle turned away before she lost her manners and smacked the lip gloss right off of Dominique Lawson’s mouth.

“What is wrong with you?” Desiree said from between clenched teeth. “You act like you’re twelve every time you’re around that woman.”

Dominique rolled her eyes. “She irks my last nerve.”

“I’m sure the feeling is mutual. But the both of you need to get over it. Whatever it is.”

“She’s jealous because of my relationship with Spence. She always has been and she wishes it was her.”

So do I. Desiree sighed inwardly and turned her attention to the crowd.

Michelle wound her way around the tables and bodies until she reached the kitchen, where she was sure she would find Spence overseeing each and every dish. He had little tolerance for any slipups or shoddy service or improperly prepared meals. His cooks and servers were thoroughly screened and trained and he paid well for their time and talents. But he had no qualms about letting anyone go that could not live up to the standards that he’d set. He was a hard taskmaster, but his staff knew that above all else he was fair. Michelle admired him for that and everything else that made up Spence Hampton.

“Full house.” Michelle eased up alongside him as he tasted the lobster bisque.

Spence took the wooden spoon and dropped it in the sink. He wiped his hands on his apron. “How are we doing outside?”

“Charles has started turning people away. We probably should have had two shows.”

Spence shook his head. “One show, one night. It gives it that much more cachet to have been here.” He winked at her, then crossed the wide, bustling kitchen, peeking over shoulders as he went. Michelle was close behind.