Looking directly into Dasher's eyes, Mimi smiled and handed her the clipboard. "Yes, here it is."

The woman checked it over and said, "Okay, surgery is scheduled for seven o'clock. The anesthesiologist will be in very early tomorrow. See you in there."

"You've already signed it?" Dasher's voice was just above a whisper.

"Yes. I want your support, Dasher, but I'm doing this. I want to try. If I fail, then nothing has changed. Kate said it well. As I thought about it, somehow I realized that's no longer an option. I've already changed. Perhaps the opportunity to die made me realize how precious life is and how I'd been wasting that opportunity. I want to be your mother...again. I hope you'll let me have that chance."

Kate and Dasher sat in the garden in silence. Kate was tired. This friendship business was tricky. She hoped Eleanor Roosevelt was happy. She ventured a question. "Are you okay?"

"Thank you. Your friendship with Mom seems to have made a real difference to her." Kate detected a tone of she wasn't sure what.

"What do you mean?" Somehow this conversation felt more dangerous than the one that had just transpired in the hospital room.

"I mean, h.e.l.l, I mean I've been trying to get my mother to change my whole life. A few days with you and bingo, she's a new woman."

"What? Dasher, that's not true. Your mother has...is ill. It's a life-threatening situation. That was the catalyst. I happened to be there and she doesn't have any history with me. It could have been Lupe or a nurse or someone else." Why did she feel defensive?

Without rancor, Dasher shook her head. "I think you're right, but I also think it was you, not anyone else. You have a special touch with her. So, thank you."

Kate let out a long, slow breath. "Phew. I was afraid you hated me."

A look of confusion crossed Dasher's features. "I could never hate you. Be frustrated, irritated, confused, flabbergasted-"

Holding up a hand, Kate said, "Okay, okay, I get it. So, are we friends?" Somehow Dasher's response meant so much.

Dasher held up her pinkie finger. "Pinkie swear."

Kate stared at the offer of a childhood promise. Her first one. They joined pinkies, and in that moment, Kate realized that their bond was as deep as innocence itself.

She also realized something else. For all of their friendship promises, she knew she was lying, lying to her friend. Most of all, she was lying to herself.

She liked some people a great deal, she kept in touch with others, and some she just enjoyed talking to. She had Laurel to confide in, but she'd never met someone, male or female, who she constantly wanted to touch, to be with, to make happy.

When Dasher offered her pinkie and Kate accepted it, her life changed. Kate absently wondered if she could take it back, but, like Mimi and her choice to have the surgery, the genie was out of the bottle. Kate Hoffman had never felt this way about anyone before. It was terrifying and wonderful, all at once. She pictured Eleanor Roosevelt laughing and clapping her hands. That woman had a weird sense of humor.

Kate, Dasher, and Lupe sat together in the waiting room reserved for families of those having surgery. Other groups of loved ones were there pa.s.sing the time while their special person was undergoing a procedure, and Kate could tell a few recognized her. They tried to give her privacy, but they were clearly watching. After all, it was a distraction from the tedium and fear. Dasher paced, made phone calls, and worried her PDA. Lupe knitted, and Kate worked on her laptop.

At one point, Chaz Hockaday appeared, took one photo, and looked about to shoot more. Honestly, that man. Kate noticed he didn't look so blotchy and his buddy Michael wasn't with him. She hoped he'd found something better to do.

Dasher was in no shape to take him on, but she visibly tensed and got ready to do battle with him in spite of being preoccupied with her mother's surgery. Kate had put her hand on Dasher's forearm to signal she would handle Chaz when he suddenly stilled, stared over their heads, then slipped out of the door that led to the stairs. Confused, they both turned and saw a formidable-looking man with steel gray hair and Dasher's eyes. She'd never met Jerry Pate but thought that was about to change.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Dasher's confusion seemed genuine.

He ambled to the chair on the other side of Dash and sat. In a voice obviously meant just for her, he said, "Did you think I wouldn't come? Mimi is still my wife and you're my daughter. Have you heard anything?"

He glanced cursorily at Kate but kept his focus on Dasher. Kate thought she detected concern and love in his eyes. For all of their estrangement, they were a family, and Kate felt a sense of relief for Dasher.

"No, not yet. She's been in surgery for two hours."

"Why the photog? What was he doing here?" The question seemed more directed at Kate and she realized that was his intent. He probably thought she'd arranged it.

Feeling guilty, Kate said, "I should have stayed away. That man has been following me for weeks. If I wasn't here, you could have had your privacy. I apologize, Dasher. I just thought you shouldn't be alone." She shot an accusing glare at Dasher's father, who had the decency to look away. She refused to back down to this man.

Dasher regarded her father and said, "Dad, this is Kate Hoffman. Kate has been a regular visitor lately. She and Mom are friends. Please don't run her off."

He grinned. "Okay, okay, sorry." He extended his hand to Kate. "I'm Jerry. And, of course, I know who you are. My crew argued with Joe Alder until we were hoa.r.s.e to get you to not try that particular stunt. That guy is an a.s.shole, no offense."

Kate shook her head, appreciating his candor. "None taken. I learned the hard way that stunts should be left to the professionals. I thought your crew was excellent, but I just wasn't up to the task. I'll leave it to you from now on, no matter what Joe says."

Jerry glanced between the two and asked, "You're friends with Dash and Mimi? How did that happen? I thought you blew her off a long time ago."

"Dad! Please, let's try for diplomacy, okay?" Dasher was turning a bright pink, and Kate knew her own fair complexion didn't hide anything, either.

Each one of them glanced around to see who might be listening. This town had eyes and ears everywhere. The one couple still in the room was in a deep discussion with a doctor. Judging from Lupe's curt nod and watchful expression, she had been keeping an eye on things. Kate liked her more each time they met.

"Mr. Pate-Jerry, Dasher and I reconnected through a mutual friend and we belong to the same, er, charity. And yes, I did sign with Joe instead of Dasher." She kept her gaze even with his. "It was a mistake."

Lupe's knitting needles clacked faster, probably to keep her from nodding in agreement.

Dasher looked down, her blush deepening. Then Jerry Pate cleared his throat, which was the only reason Kate remembered he was there.

"Why don't you dump that guy and sign with Dash?"

Dasher's head jerked up and she rolled her eyes. "Dad! You're starting to sound like Mom. Stop, please."

He folded his ma.s.sive arms across his equally ma.s.sive chest. "Your mother is a very smart woman. Just because we've gone our separate ways doesn't mean I don't appreciate her. When she's not drinking, she's the best."

Kate thought she saw regret in his expression. She could relate. Both of them absented themselves from their problems by working. That didn't mean the problems went away. They usually just got worse.

The door opened then and the surgeon who had spoken with Dasher before came bustling in. They all stood as she approached.

"Ms. Pate?" She looked askance at the rest of them.

"It's okay. This is my dad and the rest are dear friends. We can all hear. How is she?"

"We did a complete hysterectomy. The tumor is removed, and there didn't appear to be any others in the abdominal cavity. We took some tissue samples to check microscopically, but as of now, we've done what we can surgically. You'll need to talk to the oncologist about the next steps." Glancing at her watch, she said, "She'll be in recovery for the next few hours, then moved back to her room. Barring any complications, you can see her then. She'll be out of it until tomorrow. I suggest getting something to eat, all of you."

The collective sigh of relief was audible. After each of them, including Lupe, shook the surgeon's hand, she strode out of the waiting room, leaving them alone.

Jerry shoved his hands in the back pockets of his designer jeans and studied the ceiling. "Well, uh, can I buy all of you ladies lunch? I'd like to at least say h.e.l.lo to Mimi when she wakes up. Of course, I understand if you have other plans."

Lupe shyly shook her head. "I go home and come back. I must see to my granddaughter when she comes from school."

Kate let Dasher decide. She might want to spend time alone with her father. Dasher briefly gave Kate a look that she understood immediately. Dasher wanted her to stay. Kate agreed with only her eyes. How odd that they'd known each other only a few weeks, not counting the five years before, and they were communicating without words like a couple. Like she'd seen her parents do. She had read about things like that.

Dasher turned to her father, who had been watching intently, and Kate was sure he hadn't missed a thing. His expression was unreadable, but he seemed pleased when they both agreed.

Kate left the hospital at eight o'clock and drove straight home. If she'd been tired before, she was exhausted now. Mimi was rather groggy, but she had squeezed Kate's hand and thanked her for being there for her and Dash. She seemed happy to hear Jerry's voice, and they were holding hands when Kate and Dasher slipped out of the room.

Holding hands. She had so wanted to hold Dasher's hand in the waiting room, but hadn't. She'd wanted to take her hand again in the hallways, the elevator, at the restaurant. But she didn't.

She'd held hands with some of her dates, her sister, her mother. She'd seen girls do it in high school and college, but she had so few female friends, it seemed foreign to her.

Now she was obsessing about what holding Dasher's hand would be like. She knew she couldn't. Look what happened every time they touched! It would be like kissing her, for G.o.d's sake. Kissing would be next, she had no doubt. Probably more, and that thought overheated every system in her body.

If she held Dasher Pate's hand she'd never stop and her career would be over. Teenage boys and young men were so h.o.m.ophobic, they'd drop her at the box office immediately. Her gay male actor friends told her that was why they needed to keep their orientation a secret-straight women didn't like their fantasies exploded. The movies were a business of illusion, after all.

She couldn't worry about that right now. The larger problem was why she wanted to hold Dasher's hand. Could she really be falling in love with her? Would that make her a lesbian like Laurel? Well, yeah.

It would also answer some questions that had been popping into her head lately. Like, why was she so content to help her gay friends out if they needed a date? Answer: She needed one, too. One that ended with a chaste good-night peck on the cheek or sleeping in a separate bedroom. The tabloids billed her as wanton and l.u.s.ty, which was nowhere near the truth. Except when she thought of Dasher.

Next question: Why did she go out only with straight men who were jerks, more interested in publicity than in her, and she could easily dump? Answer: She just wasn't drawn to men who were straight, decent, and obviously attracted to her. Like Jason Beresford. Although after seeing him with Greta, she had revised that thought. Jason might have been attracted to Kate, yet he was entranced with Greta. But there were others. Her mother kept telling her she was too picky. She kept telling herself that she just hadn't met the right one. Was that true?

Or was the truth that she had met the right one, five years ago? The ramifications of that possibility were so complex that Kate had to sit down. Then she stood up, poured a gla.s.s of Syrah, and sat down again. Then she went to her home gym and worked out, showered, tried to eat something, and sat down once more in front of the untouched gla.s.s of wine.

How would she explain this new development to her parents? Her fans? Her staff? Like it or not, celebrities were cottage industries. They employed publicists, agents, attorneys, a.s.sistants, drivers, and the list went on. She risked her career and disappointing so many.

Warning herself not to leap to conclusions, she tried for some perspective. Kate knew without a doubt that she was drawn to Dasher. But maybe she was simply bored and loved drama. She was between projects, around all those lesbian friends of Laurel and Stefanie.

She stared at the wine. She really liked those women but didn't want to date them. Just hang out. They were real. They treated her like a friend. This was a new environment and she liked it. That was it. She didn't want to date one of them, although a few were pretty hot.

She sorted through the mail and stopped when she arrived at a large manila envelope hand-addressed to her from Laurel. Few people had her personal street address.

She opened it and saw the proof sheets from the photo shoot. She was musing that the photographer had done a good job when she skidded to a halt at the shots of her and Dasher on that huge motorcycle. There it was-all the confirmation she needed.

She sipped. Dasher, those d.a.m.ned eyes. They had somehow burned into her soul the moment Kate met her. If she was being completely honest, with herself at least, she conjured them up when she was performing a love scene in a film. And when she couldn't fall asleep at night. Dasher's eyes held mystery and a deep understanding that she'd never found before or since, and that lulled her into a complete sense of serenity.

She'd always reasoned that it was her imagination, but getting to know Dasher only confirmed her fantasy. Oh, G.o.d. Things had changed, because now when she envisioned Dasher's eyes, she wasn't able to fall asleep at all. Rather, she became aroused to the point of no sleep. And she didn't see much rest in her future, either, because she was getting worse.

The moment Dasher had touched her at the hotel photo shoot, her carefully constructed papier-mache life had begun to dissolve and she didn't see how she could paste it back together. As she gazed at the pictures, the proof was right in front of her.

Draining her gla.s.s, she choked on the last drops. It hadn't occurred to her until that moment that there was one more risk in this whole scenario. Perhaps it was the biggest one. What if Dasher didn't feel the same way?

Why would she care what Kate was feeling after the shabby way Kate had treated her for the past five years? She'd be crazy to have anything but resentment toward her. The thought of Dasher turning her back on Kate made her stomach twist painfully.

She carefully washed the crystal winegla.s.s, dried it, and put it in the cabinet. Walking purposefully to her home office, she methodically opened the computer and checked her calendar. By rearranging some magazine interviews and doing one by telephone, she could put a few days together. Laurel had asked her if she'd do a final run-through of the hotel opening that was less than two weeks away.

She made her reservations.

Chapter Fourteen.

Dasher sat in the garden in the hospital and sipped her coffee, leaving the scone untouched. Each day she waited for Kate, and each day her disappointment tore at her heart just a bit more.

It had been four days since Dasher returned from dinner with her father and tried to call Kate, only to have the call roll to voice mail. She must have pressed that number twenty times but stopped leaving messages after the first day. After three days she stopped herself from even calling, trying to salvage some dignity. Kate knew how to find her.

Her father had confronted her about her feelings for Kate and warned her that this might happen.

"Kate, honey, for all the world knows, she's straight. I haven't even heard rumors to the contrary, and you know how this town talks. Has she given you any encouragement? Have you slept with her?"

Knowing she was probably blushing furiously, she had blurted, "Dad! No, but...we kissed once." She was painfully aware of how pathetic that sounded.

Her dad scrubbed his face as if trying to contain himself. "Dasher, that's not much to base your love on. She's a star, and her demographic won't tolerate her being in a lesbian relationship. Unless you want to add a boy and make it a three-way."

She couldn't believe his comment. "No! No way. Oh, G.o.d." Could this be any more awful?

They didn't speak while he paid for their meal. "Honey, why don't you talk to your mom about this? I'm obviously not very good at comforting you. I just don't want you to get hurt, that's all. But if you ever need someone's a.s.s kicked, I'll be there."

He'd waited with her until the valet brought her car around. Kissing her forehead, he said, "If it helps, she won't be a teenage hard-on much longer. But I'd sure find out how she feels about you. Take care, and give my love to your mom. I'll be up to visit in a few days."

Dasher knew her dad loved both her mom and her. He just was a little ham-handed around emotions. And his attempts to express them, well, they were honest, at least.

Her mother had asked for Kate not long after the surgery, and when Dasher told her she wasn't answering her calls, Mimi took her hand and held it for a long time. Still a bit sleepy from the anesthesia, Mimi seemed clear-headed when she said, "Give her time, sweetie, give her time."

"Time. Now there's a concept." Dasher shook off the thought and rose from the bench, knowing she wouldn't see Kate today. The weight of all the unspoken emotions made her body seem leaden. Her appet.i.te had disappeared, her days seemed long, and her nights even longer. All she could do was replay every moment with the woman who held her heart hostage.

When Dasher entered, her mother was sitting up in her bed looking cheerful. Since her surgery she'd been that way-chatty and, well, motherly. She fussed over Dasher and tried to get her to smile and laugh.

So here she was, miserable. Kate was gone. Dasher registered that her mother was calling her name.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry, Mom. How are you feeling today?" Best to keep the subject light and focused on Mimi, because Dasher wasn't sure how she could hold herself together otherwise.

"I asked where Katie was." From the look on her face her mother was well aware of what Dasher was thinking.

"Haven't talked to her. I don't even know where she is. Go figure." She tried to hide her hurt and anger by keeping her face still and studying her PDA.

After a long silence, Mimi said, "I'm sorry, Dash. Do you think the crazy Pate family finally overwhelmed her?"

Mimi clearly hadn't asked the question to bring the subject back to herself. She seemed genuinely worried. "I don't think so, Mom. She really likes you. Don't doubt that. It was probably me."

Her eyes welled and tears threatened to spill down her face, something that never happened around her mother. Dash had always been the problem solver, not the problem itself. She jumped up and walked to the window, embarra.s.sed by her lack of control.

"Dasher, come here." Her mother's voice was strong and Dasher automatically returned to her side.

Mimi took her hand and held it for a few seconds. The warmth immediately made Dasher relax a bit. It had been years since they'd held hands, but the child she had been had never forgotten her mother's touch, especially the few rea.s.suring ones.