even be there,” Dana said.
“I do not despise him,” Tia argued.
“At any rate, Dana’s right, he probably won’t be there.”
Probably? “I thought you said a while back he was out of town?” Tia said before she could stop herself.
Dana smiled sweetly. “Keeping tabs on him, are we?”
“No. Of course not. My reasons for not coming to the party don’t have anything to do with Trent. It’s something personal.”
Camille touched Tia’s hand. “Okay. I can respect that. But I’d really like you to be there. Just for a little while. Then you can go back to your lonely little apartment.”
Tia hated when Camille referred to her home as a lonely little apartment. The fact that her assessment wasn’t far off the mark could be the reason. With the money she was making she could afford to buy herself a house. But that said permanency, it said planting roots and family…and all the things she’d had and lost.
“All right, I’ll come. But I’m not staying long.”
“Great!” Camille got up from her seat hugging Tia enthusiastically.
Tia could do nothing but hug her back. Besides she didn’t get hugs often and this one felt genuine, like there was someone finally there for her.
Shaking her head she dismissed that notion. She didn’t have close friends because she didn’t want the connection. The more people in her life that she loved, the harder it would be if she lost them. Her only family, her parents, were still alive and living in Phoenix. That was enough anticipated heartache for her to carry.
Still, she couldn’t help but like Camille. Just like she couldn’t help but see the way Camille always looked at her, as if they shared a deep, dark secret. But that was impossible. Camille had no way of knowing what had happened to her two years ago and Tia had no intention of ever telling her.
“Do me a favor,” Camille said finally releasing her. “Wear the black sheath. I have a great choker to go with it. Don’t worry about driving, I’ll send a car for you so you can get to the house a little early. I want the necklace on you before the paparazzi arrives.”
“Sure. Why not? I have nothing else to do,” she said dismally then mustered up a smile when Camille gave her another sympathetic look.
Before Camille could say another word Tia bent down, scooped up her purse and headed for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Tia was out the door and on the elevator before she released the breath she held. Slipups like that would only make things worse. She wasn’t depressed and she didn’t need anybody’s pity, despite what her mother thought. She was coping with her loss in her own way and it was working just fine.
“What is up with her?” Dana asked when Tia had closed the door behind her.
Camille continued to stare at the spot where Tia St. Claire had stood. She was a beautiful woman, tall, thin and oozing sex appeal. All attributes most women would die for, yet she wore them more like a burden then a badge.
Tia was a fantastic model, whether runway or in print. She enhanced CK Davis Design’s couture line and added a simple flair to the casual, ready-to-wear line. She was easy to work with and a pleasure to be around. But, Camille thought with a pang in her chest, Tia was the saddest person she’d ever met.
“I don’t know. But I’ve got a feeling it’s only a matter of time before it comes out.”
“You think she’s hiding something?”
“I know she is.”
Dana sat back in her chair and finally turned to Camille.
“Do you think it’s something that will hurt the company? Because if so we should probably cut our losses now.”
Leave it to Dana to be concerned with business first. That’s why they were partners, Dana dealt with all the unsavory stuff while Camille worked her personable magic as frequently as possible.
Where Tia was concerned, Camille was almost positive Dana’s way of thinking wasn’t necessary.
She shook her head negatively. “Whatever it is, it’s hurting her more than it could possibly hurt anyone else. Just leave her to me. I’ll take care of it.”
“Suit yourself,” Dana quipped. “But if it starts to go bad, I’m axing her. We’ve worked too hard to have a model’s baggage bring us down.”
“Tia will be fine. I’ve got a sinking feeling we’re going to end up helping her much more than she’s helping us.”
Chapter 3
Trent couldn’t believe it. After three months away and being with other women, Tia still had his blood pumping when she entered a room.
Sipping on a rum and coke, he watched Tia St. Claire walk into Adam and Camille’s home like a lion eyeing his prey. Earlier today he’d had a fleeting thought that she might show up tonight. CK Davis Designs new store would definitely open more doors for her as their top model, so of course she would come.
For him, it was once again about family. He was as proud of Camille and her company as if she were his blood sister. And he knew what it meant for Adam to see his fiancée finally happy with herself and her accomplishments. So he was here to show his support.
But with every step Tia took, every time her long honey-toned leg slipped through that sinful split up the left side of her dress, his hunger for Tia St. Claire grew.
Her hair was braided this time. It had been loose and curled when he’d last seen her. But the array of tiny braids in a mixture of gold and brownish tint pulled up into a neat bun showcasing her long, sensuous neckline was just as alluring. Somebody spoke to her and she smiled. Trent’s chest constricted.
Her eyes, the color of warm honey, cased the room as she moved slowly, tentatively through the crowd. Her dress, the wicked creation he knew had to be one of Camille’s designs, was black and held up by two tiny straps at the cap of her shoulders. Her breasts were high and looked full enough to fit his hands just perfectly. The seductive way she was walking had to be a crime in at least ten states. He was getting hard just looking at her move.
Usually his attraction to a woman was a slow simmer, edging him along until he was finally in her bed. But each time he saw Tia, his need for her burned instantly, intensely.
Camille entered and moved quickly to Tia. Tia turned giving Trent a full view of the back of the deadly dress, or should he say the lack of dress. In about two seconds he took in the fact that those small straps at her shoulders draped down the sides of her back, leaving what looked like miles and miles of titillating bronze skin open for all to see. The black material met again in a gentle gathering at the base of her back.
Trent almost groaned out loud. Instead, he emptied his glass and was turning to head straight to the bar for a refill when he bumped into Adam.
“She looks great, doesn’t she?” his younger brother said with a grin on his face as broad as a Cheshire cat’s.
Trent cleared his throat and took a step back. “Yeah. Camille’s as pretty as a picture. I’m proud of your good taste, little bro.”
He circled around Adam making a beeline for the bar. Unfortunately, Adam had decided to follow him.
“I wasn’t talking about Camille. But thanks anyway.”
Trent shook his head. He was not about to get into this with Adam. He knew exactly where his brother’s joking tone was leading. “The boutique’s going to be a big hit,” Trent said when they’d made it to the bar and he’d given his glass to the bartender with a nod for a refill.
“Yeah,” Adam agreed.
“Is that all you’re going to say tonight?”