High school was far behind her, of course, but it seemed that some old images lingered in the back of the mind for a lifetime. She’d been careful since then to spend time with people who were more like herself. Much less stressful in the long run, she had decided.
“Oh, boy,” Scott suddenly murmured into her ear. “Here we go.”
Confused, she glanced up at him. “What do you—”
“Scott! There you are,” someone proclaimed before Lydia could complete the question.
It didn’t take a great deal of perceptiveness for Lydia to figure out that this woman was probably Scott’s twin sister, Heather. The family resemblance was strong—same bright green eyes, dark auburn hair and single dimple. “Yes, here I am, Heather,” Scott said, undeniable affection softening the wry greeting.
Towing a pleasant-faced man behind her, Heather bustled up to them already talking. “Isn’t this great? The turnout is wonderful, don’t you think? Have you had a chance to look at the silent auction items yet? There are some fabulous donations. Steve and I have placed bids on several things, including a really spectacular painting that would look perfect in our living room. You must be Lydia.”
Since the last was added without a pause for breath, it took Lydia a moment to catch up. More accustomed to his sister’s rhythm, Scott answered for her. “Yes, this is Lydia McKinley. Lydia, I’d like you to meet my sister, Heather, and her fiancé, Dr. Steve Carter,” he added, nodding toward the nice-looking man who’d trailed in Heather’s wake.
“It’s very nice to meet you both,” Lydia said, shaking their hands.
“Scott said you’re a science professor?” Heather probed, studying her with an intensity that made Lydia feel like a specimen in one of her own labs.
“An associate professor in the microbiology department,” Lydia confirmed.
“Lydia’s a doctoral candidate in microbiology,” Scott added. “She’ll have her Ph.D. this spring.”
Wanting to shift the conversation away from herself, Lydia spoke to Heather, wishing even as she did so that she was better at making small talk with new acquaintances. “Scott said you work in advertising?”
“Yes. I’m an account executive for O’Brien, Simmons and Stern. Have you and Scott known each other long?” Heather was obviously more interested in finding out about her brother’s companion than talking about herself for the moment.
Scott sighed heavily before Lydia could answer. “Let’s go look at the auction offerings, Lydia. That should be more fun than standing here being cross-examined by my nosy sister.” Again, there was more affection than irritation in his voice.
Heather frowned at him. “I wasn’t being rude. I was just curious.”
“Maybe we should go dance, Heather,” her fiancé suggested quickly.
“Okay. I’ll talk to you two later,” Heather called over her shoulder as he pulled her away. “I’d love to have a chance to sit down and get to know you better, Lydia, when we…”
Steve pulled her into the crowd still talking.
Scott chuckled. “I’m not sure if that was a promise or a warning.”
“She seemed very pleasant,” Lydia assured him, though she had a funny sense that Heather hadn’t actually approved of her at first impression.
Scott slid an arm casually around her shoulders. “She’s a nut. I love her, but I’ve got to be honest—she’ll grill you to distraction if you let her. My sister is unabashedly nosy.”
A bit flustered by the feel of his arm around her, Lydia started to reply, but then paused when she saw Larissa and Charlie making their way toward her. Taking a deep breath, she glanced up at Scott. “You think your sister is scary? Wait until you meet mine,” she murmured, then turned with a forced smile. “Hello, Larissa.”
Her dyed-red hair piled in an artfully messy cascade on top of her head, Larissa wore the skimpy crimson dress she had tried to talk Lydia into buying. It fit as revealingly as Lydia had imagined, barely covering Larissa’s full breasts, dipping in to show off her small waist, then fitting like a second skin against her slender hips and thighs. The skirt was cut away on the left side to show her leg from hip to ankle. On Larissa, the daring gown looked arty and trendy and chic. On someone else it might have just looked tacky, Lydia mused with a ripple of admiration for her sister’s undeniable sense of style.
She would never have had the nerve to wear it in public herself.
Leaning forward to accept her sister’s smacking air kiss, Lydia murmured, “You look fabulous.”
“Thanks. So do you. Have you seen my paintings yet?”
“No, we just arrived. We haven’t had a chance to examine everything yet.” Lydia smiled at the thin, ponytailed man in a long, straight evening jacket who stood just behind Larissa. “Hello, Charlie.”
Her sister’s latest conquest smiled broadly, stretching the triangular “soul patch” of sandy whiskers sprouting beneath his lower lip, the only hair he wore on his angular face. “Hey, Prof. How’s it going?”
“Fine, thank you.” She half turned toward Scott. “Larissa and Charlie, this is my friend, Scott Pearson.”
Scott flashed Larissa one of his winning smiles. “I see beauty runs in the McKinley family.”
“Oh, that is so corny,” Larissa groaned. Then smiled and reached up to pat his dimpled cheek with one scarlet-nailed hand. “Tell me more.”
Lydia rolled her eyes.
“Lydia told me a couple of your paintings are on exhibit here tonight for the charity auction.”
“Yes. You’ll have to tell me what you think of them. But only if what you think is positive. I don’t take criticism well.”
Scott laughed. “I’ll be sure and say only nice things, then. But from the paintings I’ve seen in Lydia’s apartment, I’m sure I’ll like them. You’re very talented.”
“So you’ve been in Lydia’s apartment?” Larissa murmured, looking speculatively from him to her sister.
Lydia frowned at her. “Larissa…”
Larissa only laughed. “C’mon, Charlie, let’s go eavesdrop on the people standing around my paintings. And you can beat them up for me if they say anything unpleasant.”
“You keep forgetting I’m a pacifist,” Charlie complained, then added with a grin, “not to mention a coward.”
“You weren’t exaggerating, were you?” Scott murmured when Larissa and Charlie moved away.
“About Larissa? No.”
“The two of you really are very different.”
“Night and day,” Lydia agreed. “But we’ve always gotten along well enough despite those differences.”
Scott nodded. “Heather and I do, too, considering. But when we disagree, we do so passionately.”
Amused by the wording, she laughed softly. “Larissa does everything passionately.”
“I’d like to see her paintings.”
“I’m sure we can find them—somewhere,” she added, looking around the crowded ballroom lined with auction offerings on the outer edges.
He offered his arm. “Let’s snag some champagne and check everything out, shall we?”
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