Snorting, Dasher said, "You are evil. That poor man may never recover."

"Serves him right. Food on the table, my a.s.s."

"I hope he doesn't cause you any problems."

"He probably will. Listen, I have to run. Are you going to the directors' dinner Tuesday night? I have to show up."

"Me, too. Do you want to go together?" Dasher seemed to suddenly realize what she'd asked and looked away awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, Dash, I can't. I invited Jason Beresford because he plans to be in town. He's kind of my brother-in-law and I thought it would be nice...you know." She wanted to apologize but Dasher immediately shut down further discussion.

"No problem. I'll probably take Greta. She still loves all the awards stuff, and it's good for her to be seen. She's not dating anyone, so she'll be up for it. Besides, Joe would probably follow through with his threat to call security."

"So, I'll see you there. Tuesday." Kate wondered when Joe had made such a threat, but Dasher disappeared before she could ask.

When Dasher had mentioned inviting Greta, Kate used all her willpower to bite back a remark about probably still seeing things through a child's eyes. She was jealous and had no right, no right at all. After all, she was taking Jason to the event. They had agreed, at Kate's insistence, that they were only friends. Her reasoning didn't help the gnawing in her gut that the idea of Dasher with Greta created.

Chapter Twelve.

Dasher had the limo wait while she walked to the door to collect Greta. The rental house that she'd helped Greta lease when she first arrived in Los Angeles had worked perfectly. Its courtyard with a high-end security system in place so she could see who was ringing the bell was especially useful.

Greta answered the front door with an enthusiasm Dasher certainly didn't share, but she tried to not spoil the prospect of the high-profile dinner for her.

"Hi, Dash! Are you ready for the rubber chicken?" Greta got a huge kick out of referring to these events that way. She also loved to tease Dasher about her tendency to avoid them when possible. Her slight Russian accent matched her cla.s.sic pale features and the slim build of a ballerina.

Dasher had seen her in a small independent film two years before and signed her immediately. In Greta she'd found a hardworking, vibrant woman who appreciated everything to its maximum.

But even Greta's positive personality couldn't make up for the fact that, yet again, Dasher would have to try to avoid coming in contact with Kate. It hurt worse this time, too. Odd, she didn't think that was possible, but it was.

Dasher and Greta wove their way through the crowd, looking for their nameplates on the many round tables set with golden flatware, fine china, and elegant floral centerpieces. Both spent time waving to colleagues or acquaintances, and Greta finally found their table.

Feeling like a soldier on a forced march, Dasher couldn't help but scan the room nervously for Kate and Jason. She was relieved that they hadn't yet shown up, but the antic.i.p.ation made her conversational skills, already sketchy in crowds, absent.

Greta spoke near Dasher's ear, competing with the crowd noise. "Hey, Dasher, are you ill? You don't look so good."

"Oh, I'm fine. You know how much I like these things." Her halfhearted laugh didn't seem to fool Greta.

"I see. Oh, look, there's Kate Hoffman and that handsome man I saw when we went to the hotel a few weeks ago. He's so cute!"

Grabbing a gla.s.s of champagne someone had placed in front of her, Dasher took a gulp and stared at the stage where the awards would be presented.

"Dasher? I said..." Then Greta fell silent. A few seconds pa.s.sed before she continued. "I see. Well, we must do something about this. I'll be back."

Not caring what Greta was babbling about and relieved to have a moment to herself, Dasher drained the champagne gla.s.s and eyed Greta's. There was a lot of activity around their table as people arrived. The sound of clothing rustling as a woman took her seat beside Dasher brought her out of her state, and she gutted up to make small talk.

Turning, she became lost in a sea of apple green and a most beautiful smile. Kate Hoffman sat right beside her.

"Hi, Dasher. Fancy meeting you here."

She wore a curve-hugging strapless gown that made her look like a G.o.ddess. While most were l.u.s.ting for Kate's body, and Dasher certainly worshipped it, too, she couldn't pull herself from those eyes that held something just for Dasher in them. The weight that forced her inertia was suddenly lifted, dissolved. Another form of heaviness replaced it, one that settled farther south.

"Hey, Dasher, isn't this great?" Jason was bending down to kiss her cheek. She felt like she was in a dream. She turned to Greta, who was grinning mischievously.

"You did this."

"I did. I saw their names on another table and did a switch." Tapping her temple with her forefinger she narrowed her eyes and said, "You look much better now. See? Trust Greta."

Swiveling back to Kate, Dasher managed only, "You're here."

Kate's lovely mouth opened a full five seconds before she whispered, "Yes." The word had so much more meaning in it than the fact she had arrived at the event.

Only vaguely aware of her surroundings, Dasher heard Greta introduce herself to Jason and saw Kate blink, then seem to tune in to the room.

Kate said, "Oh, I'm sorry. Jason, this is Greta Sarnoff. Greta, meet Jason Beresford."

Never taking her gaze from Jason, Greta said, "I have wanted to meet this man since I first saw him." She held out her hand palm down, a very European greeting.

Dasher recognized enchantment when she saw it. Jason took her hand and gallantly bowed and kissed the back of it. Judging from Greta's smile, that was the perfect response.

"Kate, would you mind if Jason sits beside me until our other table guests join us?" Greta was quite the organizer.

Kate tried to make herself heard. "Knock yourself out." The room noise was picking up.

Greta looked momentarily shocked until Dasher said, "That means 'yes,' Greta."

She seemed delighted as she settled Jason next to her.

"Dasher, I'm pretty sure I wasn't seated at your table," Kate said. "In fact, when Joe Alder gets here he'll probably blow an artery."

"Couldn't happen to a nicer fella. Much as I'd like to take credit, we'll have to blame Greta. She switched the place cards."

"I'm beginning to think I misjudged Miss Sarnoff."

"Maybe she just wanted to steal your date. I'm sure that's what the tabloids will say tomorrow."

Glancing in Jason's direction, Kate said, "He's probably in heaven. I wasn't much company."

Dasher's heart rate rose another notch. "I wasn't either. I think Greta figured that out."

"I've definitely misjudged her. Maybe I should send flowers."

"No, I'll take care of that."

Greta tapped Dasher on the back, looking perturbed. "Who is that red-faced man glaring at us?" She pointedly stared over Dasher's shoulder.

Joe Alder had arrived at his table and was now glaring death rays at Dasher.

"This could get ugly," Dasher said.

Jason stood, saying, "I'll explain everything."

Then Greta pulled on his sleeve. "No, let me. I speak his language." She left them all sitting at the table, staring after her.

For a good five minutes, until the lights started to dim, signaling the event was beginning, they talked. At first Alder made jabbing gestures toward Kate and Dasher. Then he settled down and was listening, and finally he nodded slyly, like he agreed with everything she said. The entire time his eyes roamed over Greta's generous cleavage and her body. He made Dasher queasy.

Greta returned to the table and sat, downing the champagne in front of her in one gulp. They all bent forward to hear what had happened.

"That man is disgusting. He talked to my b.o.o.bies the whole time. Kate, you must get away from him, he's not good for you."

Kate nodded. "I wish I could. What did you say to him? Why didn't he drag me back to his table?"

Smiling, Greta said, "I told him I have arranged a publicity stunting. I pretend to try to steal Jason from you and you get angry. You and I have to have a p.u.s.s.y battle when this is over. Okay?"

After a full beat of silence, Kate started laughing. Grinning at them, especially Dasher, Kate said, "I'd love it. But I think it's called a catfight. At least I hope so."

In the limo on the way back to Greta's house, Dasher said, "Well, that was quite a pus...er, catfight. Front page on the tabloids, I'll bet. You two are very good actors, do you know that?"

Dasher was still savoring the fact that she'd sat next to Kate all evening, their thighs welded together under the drape of the tablecloth. At intervals she'd chance a sideways glance at Kate and always caught a grin coming from her. When she could tear herself away from Kate and turned her attention to Greta, Jason and she were deep in conversation. The other couples at their table had simply worked around their seating arrangement.

At one point, Kate draped an arm over the back of Dasher's chair and reached across Dash to speak to Greta. Her dress left little to the imagination anyway, and at this angle... Dasher glued her eyes to Jason's, well aware they were both trying their best to be polite. They were probably the only two doing so.

Kate told Greta she loved her dress, but her face looked tense and angry. Greta responded with much thanks and a return of the compliment, but her body and face telegraphed, "Belligerent." Amazing.

When they stood to leave, Kate politely gave Dasher a hug, whispering in her ear, "See you at the hospital." She then possessively held on to Jason and dragged him out of the room. Once outside where the paparazzi wielded even more cameras, Kate and Greta seemed furious with each other and huffed off in different directions, Dasher and Jason trailing after their respective dates. The scene was a masterpiece.

Greta looked pleased. "That was fun. And I have a date with Jason. I think he might be special."

"Really? That's great. Yeah, he's a very nice guy. His sister, Stefanie, is a good friend. That's how I got the invitation to the hotel. She and her partner, Laurel, own it."

"Oh, that's what Jason was talking about. I wasn't at the hotel that long when I went with you. Laurel is Kate's sister, right? I intended to ask. So, how was your evening, Ms. Pate?" Her grin was infectious.

Smiling and probably blushing, too, Dasher said, "The best rubber chicken I've ever eaten. Thank you, Greta."

Shaking her head, Greta said, "No, I thank you. When you signed me to a contract I was almost out of money and luck. Believe me, that awful man tonight is nothing compared to some of the men I've had to deal with." The momentary sadness in her eyes caught Dash off guard.

Not knowing what to say, Dasher took her hand. "I guess we're friends, then. He would have made a scene if you hadn't thought up that stunt."

Greta sighed. "Kate really cares for you. She must be afraid."

"Yeah, her branding is all about appealing to young boys and men. She's straight, anyway, so it doesn't matter."

"Straight? Piffle. It is about one heart connecting to another heart. Once you realize that, the rest is simple."

Dasher nodded. Piffle? She'd come to that conclusion five years ago. But the truth that followed her like a specter was that both hearts had to believe. If one didn't, the other couldn't force it. She'd learned that from her mother. Evidently she hadn't learned it well enough.

"Well, sometimes you just have to be grateful for a special rubber-chicken dinner."

Flopping against the seat and staring ahead, Greta squeezed her hand and sighed tiredly. "Da."

After seeing Greta to her door, Dasher dozed in the back of the limousine. Long ago she had learned to live in the moment. Wishing and hoping had only brought heartache. As of this moment she had a friend in Greta, and Kate had told her she'd see her tomorrow. Dasher took a risk and looked forward to that possibility.

Chapter Thirteen.

Dasher stopped by Mimi's condo to grab a suitcase early the next morning. She didn't need to stay at the hospital any longer. Dasher mentally forced herself not to antic.i.p.ate what the next few months or years would bring. After all, live in the moment, right? She could handle it.

After surrept.i.tiously checking to see that Kate wasn't in the garden, she started mentally making lists of ch.o.r.es for Lupe and herself. Lists always helped her when things were spinning out of control. When she entered her mother's room, she was surprised to see her mother's physician and several nurses, busily attaching things and having her sign forms.

Kate stood by quietly and looked thrilled to see Dasher. Momentarily caught in Kate's gaze, Dash eventually realized that her mother was talking to her.

"Oh, good, you're here. Would you all excuse us? Not you, Kate. Please stay."

Kate nodded, standing a few feet from the bed as the others cleared away. Her hands were behind her back and she was fidgeting. She looked like a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl with a secret she was dying to tell. G.o.d, she was beautiful.

"What are you two up to?" Dasher tried to ignore a feeling of being left out of the pack. How was it that Kate could march in and be instant friends with Dasher's mother? The unusual and unexpected turn of events made her feel happy and a bit envious at the same time.

"Dasher, do you mind if I have the surgery?" From the expression on her mother's face and in her eyes, she wasn't joking. She was actually asking permission.

"Why are you asking me? Don't you think I'd want you to? Oh." When she realized what was behind the question, she gasped.

Incredulous, she turned to Kate for verification and saw it in her eyes. They were both waiting for her decision. Anger was the only emotion that surfaced.

"What happens then, Mom? What if the surgery is a success and you get better, just to go back to being miserable? Is that my fault? What happens if you need more chemo or radiation? Is that when you quit? Am I responsible for that?"

Kate saw the anguish in Dasher's face and ached to be next to her, to hold her hand. To protect her. She stayed where she was. Whatever happened next was between mother and daughter.

Mimi said, "No! Yes...but it's not your responsibility, Dasher. It never has been. I just don't want to put you through any more. I'm terrified that I'll have a second chance and I'll fail you."

Kate couldn't stop herself. She went to Dasher's side and slipped an arm around her waist. "Mimi, if you take this chance, won't the rest seem easy? I mean, this is the risk to live. This decision says you're ready to change."

The air in the room was charged in their collective silence. A nurse dressed in blue scrubs bustled in and stopped, taking them all in. "Have you signed the form, Mrs. Pate?"