“That would be great,” Nate said.
Dad disappeared into the kitchen.
Nate returned to his dinner, taking a bite of potato before he realized his brother was staring at him.
“What?”
Sam hesitated, his look probing. “You still like girls, though, right? That hasn’t changed?”
“Why the hell would you ask that?”
Sam shrugged.
“What out of what I just told Dad would make you think that?” Nate demanded. “What? Do you think being a vegetarian makes a person gay?”
Again Sam hesitated. “You just don’t act the same toward women as you did before.”
Nate considered his words for a moment, then laughed humorlessly. “Well, there are plenty of ladies who would say that is a good thing.” He sobered. “Yes, Sam, I still like women.”
Marty Stepp suddenly popped into his mind.
And if his physical reaction to just picturing her as she’d looked in the bathroom this morning was any indication, his head might be messed up, but other parts of his anatomy were working just fine.
Chapter 5
“Hi, Brandi, is Diana in?”
There was a pause. “Sure, Marty. Hold on, I’ll put you through.”
New Age music filled Marty’s ear as Brandi put her on hold.
She’d dreaded this call. It had taken her a couple days to get up the courage to dial the number to Flair, her modeling agency.
Even now, she considered hanging up. But before she could hit the End Call button, she heard Diana snatch up the phone.
“Where the hell are you?” her agent demanded.
Before Marty could answer, she continued. “I’ve been calling your cell phone. I even called Rod.”
Marty could picture Diana shuddering on the other end of the line as she said that name. Diana despised Rod. Marty obviously should have followed her agent’s advice on her love life as well as her career.
“I know,” Marty said. “I got your messages, and I should have called sooner.”
“Well, where are you? Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Marty quickly assured her. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m—I’m at home. In Maine.”
“What?”
Again, Marty could imagine Diana’s shocked expression.
“Marty, you are supposed to be at a fitting appointment with Dara Rhoades as we speak. And you have a show tomorrow. Aaron Ashford is paying big bucks for you. But not just that, everyone is saying that Aaron is going to be a heavy hitter in this summer’s fashions. We do not want to make an enemy out of him, even if he is a new designer.”
“I know,” Marty said, guilt heavy in her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. “I am so sorry. But…Diana, I had to get away.”
There was a pause on the other end. “What happened?”
Marty hesitated; she owed Diana the truth.
When Marty had shown up at Flair with nothing but a few terrible head shots and a dream, Diana had seen beyond the outmoded clothes and ten-dollar haircut. She had transformed Marty into the model who had graced the covers of the most popular magazines, who had headlined the fashion shows of the most prestigious designers, and who had all the top people in the industry clamoring to work with her.
But Diana hadn’t just built her career. She had also been a true friend to the naive girl from Millbrook, Maine. Outside of her sisters, Diana was her best friend.
“I often wish you had been able to change my foolish nature as well as you changed my looks,” Marty told her.
Diana sighed. “I didn’t need to make any changes, Marty. I just had the good sense to see what was already there. As far as your foolishness, you aren’t foolish, you’re kind. And trusting. Far, far too trusting.”
Marty laughed humorlessly. “Actually, I’m not trusting at all. But when I do, it is invariably the wrong person.”
“Well, I hope you don’t feel that way about me,” Diana said. “What’s going on?”
Again, Marty hesitated, a combination of shame and fear freezing her tongue.
“Marty? Are you still there?”
“Rod did it again.”
Now there was silence on the other end of the phone. Then, “The bastard!”
Marty sighed. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t really much of a shock, was it? But I still needed to leave.”
“Did you dump his sorry ass?”
Marty paused. “Yeah.” She hadn’t officially told him so, but she assumed he’d realize it when he couldn’t reach her. “That’s why I needed to leave for a while.” She’d tell Diana the rest of her plans later.
“Yes,” Diana readily agreed. She was silent for a moment. “I can handle things here. I’ll tell Ashford and Dara Rhoades that you had a family emergency. They will be upset, but what can they do? And they won’t burn bridges with me—or you, for that matter.”
“I’m so sorry.” Marty felt like she was failing Diana not only as a business associate but as a friend as well.
“Don’t be sorry. Just take a break. And stay in touch.”
“I will,” Marty promised.
“Okay, I better make some calls. Keep in touch.”
“Okay, bye.”
Marty hit the End Call button and simply held the phone for a moment. How had she ended up in such a mess? Why had she ever gotten involved with Rod? No, this was all her own doing. Rod. Her dissatisfaction with her career.
She set down the cell phone just as the avocado telephone on the kitchen wall rang. She jumped up, startled by the ring.
“Hello?” she said.
“Hey. Can I ask you a favor?” It was Ellie.
Marty immediately felt comforted by her sister’s voice.
“Sure.”
“Emily just went down to a nap, and I hate to wake her up to run out to the store. Would you mind picking me up a couple of packages of cream cheese and a bag of powdered sugar? I thought I had enough.”
“Ooh, you’re making your amazing carrot cake, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Yay!”
“Yeah, well, you have reason to be happy. You are the only person I know who can eat that cake and not gain an ounce. If you weren’t my sister, I’d hate you.”
Marty laughed, even as a quick image of Rod scolding her for her sweet tooth flashed through her mind. She ignored it—he was gone now. “You’re the one with the super-sexy husband and the gorgeous daughter. All I have is a great metabolism.”
“You have far more than that,” Ellie said gently. “But I have to admit, my slow metabolism doesn’t bother me nearly as much as it once did.”
“That is good. Do you need anything else?”
“No, that should do it. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Of course not. I just need to find something to wear tonight, then I’ll be over.”
“No