to see at least one great-grandchild born. A mischievous smile crinkled his face. “Of course, if Ana Corelli were interested, I could be persuaded to procreate.”
Belana laughed. “Why don’t you just ask the girl out? You’ve been salivating over her for the past two years.”
“Because whenever I’m free, she’s involved with someone, and whenever she’s free I’m involved with someone.”
“She’s not involved with anyone right now,” Belana told him. “That pretty-boy actor she was dating was caught cheating.”
“What kind of fool would cheat on her?” Erik asked incredulously.
“A fool who believes the hype about his being the sexiest guy in America,” Belana answered.
“She was dating him?” Again, his tone was disbelieving.
Belana frowned, thinking of the flavor-of-the-month actor who had recently trampled on Ana Corelli’s heart. Ana, the sister of her friend Elle’s husband, Dominic Corelli, was a highly sought-after model living in New York City. She was exquisitely beautiful, her Italian and African-American heritage producing an exotic look that made anyone seeing her for the first time do a double take. As beautiful as her visage was, though, Ana Corelli’s spirit was even more beautiful. She was a sweet girl who was genuinely nice, sometimes a rarity among beautiful women. And she had talent, not just posing for the camera. She was a painter who, when she gained confidence, Belana was sure, would quit modeling and turn all her attention to her art where it belonged. That’s how strongly Belana felt that Ana’s true calling was not modeling but painting.
“I put a curse on him,” Belana told her brother as they stepped outside of the building and began walking toward the street. Friday night in Manhattan was crowded as usual. People were not in as big a rush as they were during daylight hours, though. They strolled down city streets going to the theater, in this district, going out to dinner, or just meeting friends for drinks. “The next time he has sex with some trampy starlet his thing is going to fall off.”
“Ouch!” Erik laughed. “Must you be so Lorena Bobbitt?”
“He deserves it,” Belana said with emotion. “You’re a man …”
“Oh, no, when a sentence starts with those words, I know I’m in for it,” said Erik.
“Seriously,” his sister persisted. “Why can’t a man be satisfied with one woman? Why does he need to have sex with as many women as possible?”
Erik, whose nature was to joke around when presented with an uncomfortable situation, cracked, “Where are all those women they’re having sex with? I’m lucky if I have a date on a Friday night. Look at me, taking my sister to dinner.”
Belana gave him her dead-eyes look. Erik hated that look. It meant she was fed up with joking and wasn’t going to put up with his mess. He swore she got it from Grandma Drusilla who was the only woman who could make him shake in his boots.
“If we’re going to have a serious conversation about the state of the male/female relationship, I’ll need sustenance,” he said. They stood in front of a small restaurant that theatergoers frequented and which was a favorite of Belana’s. Erik held the door open for Belana.
Inside, the hostess, a tall leggy redhead with green eyes cried, “Belana, I heard you killed tonight. Bravo, my sister!”
Belana gave Julie Banks, an actor working as a hostess until her big break came along, a warm hug. “Thanks, Julie.” Julie in turn kissed her on both cheeks. The two were invariably supportive of one another, as was often the case in the huge artistic community in New York City.
“Table for two?” asked Julie, her attention now on Erik. Belana hadn’t brought Erik in here before.
“Yes, please,” Belana said, smiling at Erik who was blushing from the intensity of Julie’s stare. “This is my brother, Erik,” Belana told Julie. “Erik, Julie Banks. She’s an actor.”
Julie held out her hand. Erik took it and covered it with his other one. “Nice to meet you, Julie,” he said.
“Any brother of Belana’s is a friend of mine,” quipped Julie, her pale cheeks turning a bright pink.
Erik let go of her hand and Julie led them through the packed dining room to a private booth in the back of the room. Julie took the reserved sign off the tabletop and gestured to the table. “I hope this is all right.”
“Perfect,” said Erik. “Thank you, Julie.”
“My pleasure,” said Julie, giving him a high-wattage smile. “A waiter will be with you shortly. Enjoy your evening.”
She walked away, her hips swaying sexily.
When she was gone, Belana laughed softly. “Oh, my God, I thought she was going to throw you on the table and have her way with you.”
“She was just being friendly,” Erik said modestly. He picked up a menu and pretended to be immediately engrossed in it.
Belana reached up and lowered the menu in his hands. “Don’t worry. I know you’re faithful to your infatuation with Ana. Back to my earlier question, why can’t men be faithful?”
“To be fair, sis,” Erik said, putting the menu on the table, “women cheat, too. Who do you suppose the males are cheating with? The straight males, I mean. We are talking about heterosexuals?”
“Of course,” said Belana with a touch of impatience.
“Don’t get snippy, baby sis, or I’ll have to remind you why you’re really upset about Ana’s boyfriend’s infidelity.”
Belana flashed him a belligerent challenge with her eyes. “Go on, Dr. Phil,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Nicolas Reed.” After Erik had said the dreaded name he instantly regretted it. His sister’s eyes filled with tears and she started sniffing to hold them at bay. He snapped up a white cloth napkin from the table and handed it to her. “Sorry,” he said simply, his tone pleading for forgiveness. Belana took the napkin and dabbed at her wet face.
She attempted a weak smile. “Damn, why do I still do that?”
“Because you were in love with the guy and you don’t want to admit it,” Erik said as if the explanation should be obvious to her.
“That can’t be it,” Belana denied emphatically. “I did the right thing by breaking up with him. He showed his true colors after only two months together; once a cheater, always a cheater.”
“Yeah, but you said you two hadn’t had the commitment conversation yet. He didn’t know you wanted an exclusive relationship. You told me he looked shocked when you told him why you didn’t want to see him anymore. You can’t punish a guy for breaking the rules if the rules aren’t even in place.”
“I instinctively knew we belonged together,” said Belana, knowing she sounded unreasonable. “Why didn’t he?”
“Come on now, sis, you know how you’ve held men at arm’s length for years because you were the one afraid of settling down. And no wonder. You were abandoned by your mother when you were barely two and she hasn’t made any effort to be in your life ever since. Yes, you would wonder if you’d inherited her lack of commitment. Now, though, you know you’re not like our mother. You have the capacity for long-term commitment. You just need to find the right guy. And you cry at the mention of Nicolas Reed because you think you might have missed your chance due to a case of miscommunication. Sounds to me as if he was hoping you wanted to be exclusive, but you weren’t honest with him.” Erik paused, waiting for Belana’s response to his accusation. All he got from his sister was more silent tears.
She rose. “Excuse me.”
Erik rose too, his hand on her elbow. “Are you all right? Should we go?”
Belana