"Now that would be a first." Mick shook his head and grinned. "When my Rivka leaves her pretty nose out of her sister's business--"

"What about my nose?" Rivka appeared suddenly beside him. Mick smiled shamefacedly and kissed her. "The rest of the boys are waiting for you, Mickey."

Mick took the pointed hint and tipped an imaginary hat toward Alex. Rivka watched her black-haired husband weave his way through the crowd to the small stage area and sighed. She turned and signaled to the bartender.

"I'll have a white wine." She pointed to Alex. "He's paying."

Obligingly, Alex pulled out his wallet and paid for her drink. They sat in mutual silence for a few minutes. From behind them, The Roving Ramblers began their next set. Mick had forsaken his guitar for a set of uillean pipes, and the haunting melody seemed to squeeze Alex's throat until he could hardly

breathe.

"This is one of my favorites," Rivka remarked off-handedly. "It's so sad, though. Don't you just feel like crying?"

Alex looked at her sternly. "Don't play games with me, Rivka. You said you weren't going to talk to me about Sarah, so I haven't said anything. Yes, I'm upset about losing her, but what can I do? I've wracked my brains to think of a way to prove I love her, and I just can't come up with one. It really burns me up that she didn't just trust me."

Rivka clicked her tongue against her teeth. "You know about William, of

course."

Alex growled and finished the rest of his pint. "I'd like to punch that b.a.s.t.a.r.d right in the face. It's all his fault."

Rivka rolled her eyes and looked so much like Sarah his heart hurt again. "It's not William's fault, Alex. It's yours, and Sarah's, too. Poor Billy is only an excuse."

Without asking, the bartender took Alex's mug and refilled it. Alex stared at the thick, creamy head of foam atop the dark brew. He knew Rivka was right.

It was just easier to blame things on William Darcy.

"So what can I do about it?"

Rivka rolled her eyes again and added a sigh so deep it had to have come from her toes. "Men!"

"What?" Alex's defenses rose. "Rivka, I feel bad enough, so if you're going

to man bash..."

"I'm not going to bash anyone." Rivka finished the last of her wine. She stood up and tugged his shoulder. "C'mon."

He looked at her warily. The Roving Ramblers weren't even close to finishing

their gig. Rivka's grin made him nervous.

Suspicion filled him. "What do you want?"

"Come with me to the Gallery. To the studio. I want to paint you."

"Oh, no." Alex shook his head. "No way."

She frowned. "C'mon. You need this."

"I need this?"

"Yeah. You need this."

"Like I need a hole in my head." Alex grumbled, but he got off the stool. Rivka had a way about her that didn't make her easy to deny. For one moment, Alex both envied and pitied Mick Delaney, who had made this wacky woman his wife.

"I'll give you a hole in your head if you don't move your b.u.t.t." Rivka laughed. "C'mon, Alex, I need another X-Man."

Even though he was already on his feet and following her out of the bar, Alex stopped. "The X-Men again. What am I, just a face?"

Rivka didn't wait for him, instead pushing open the door to the parking lot. She called over her shoulder to him. "G.o.d gives us certain things in life, Alex. It's stupid to deny them."

Like he was being sucked along in the wake of an avalanche, Alex followed her to the lot. The frigid night air swept away some of the cobwebs he'd been allowing to cover him. He couldn't believe he was actually going along with this.

The drive to The Gallery on Second was too short. He groaned to himself as he followed Rivka inside and to the small studio in the back. He watched as she flicked on lights and busied herself with pots of paint, brushes, and canvas.

"Rivka, I really don't think I want to do this. I don't see the point."

Rivka turned toward him, no longer teasing. "The point is it will make you feel better."

He barked out something that was supposed to be a laugh, but didn't quite make it. "This whole issue with Sarah is because she says I'm too good looking to fall in love with her. How can having my portrait painted make me feel any better about that? Are you going to show me with warts or something? A hunchback?"

Rivka was busy sc.r.a.ping her short curls away from her face and pinning them. "You don't have any warts. And your back looks fine to me."

"I wish I did have warts! Or a whole bunch of scars."

"Chicks dig scars." Rivka pointed. "Sit."

Despite his misgivings, he sat. Stiff. Like a board. He couldn't remember ever feeling so self-conscious. He'd never had his picture painted before, and he wasn't sure what to expect. Something to do with berets maybe, or Rivka standing in front of him holding up her thumb. French accents. Oh, h.e.l.l, what did he know about painting?

Rivka's silence didn't make things any more comfortable. She worked in silence, unbroken except for the scratch of her brush against the canvas. Her pretty face was furrowed in concentration, and he had time to study her.

"Sarah says you're the pretty one and she's the smart one." He wanted to break the silence with something, even lame conversation. "Some kind of family joke?"

"Yeah. Our parents refused to compare us, so we had to do it for ourselves."

"So why did Sarah get the short end of the stick?" The whole idea suddenly irritated him. He still wanted to lay blame, to ease the ache inside him.

Rivka bit her lip and studied her work. "What, you think being pretty is better than being smart? I always thought I got the short end."

Agreeing with her would make him sound exactly like the sort of man Sarah thought he was. "I just meant that I don't think Sarah isn't pretty."

Rivka looked up from her painting to stare at him seriously. "She's d.a.m.n gorgeous."

Taken aback by the force of her words, Alex shifted on his chair. "Well, yeah. But she doesn't think so. And I want to know why."

Rivka sighed. "Because of us comparing ourselves. Because of William Darcy. Because of women like your sad excuse for a hostess. Why, why, why? Who ever feels totally comfortable with the way they look, Alex? Bad Billy was the biggest part of why my Sarai shut herself away, but he's just one piece."

"So what can I do?" Alex slammed his fists down on his thighs. "I love her, Rivka!"

He got up from the chair, not caring that he might be ruining her portrait. He felt the embarra.s.sing acid sting of tears, and he didn't want to cry in front of Sarah's sister. Instead, he stalked the length of the tiny studio and back. If only he could run and run, until all of this just melted away. Until he melted away and didn't have to think about it any more.

"I don't know, honey." Thankfully she didn't try and hug him or anything like that. He heard the faint scritch scratch of her brush, ever moving, on the picture. "I wish I could wave my magic wand and turn it all to gold, but right now it's all just a big pile of dog doo. And frankly, gold dog doo isn't much better than the regular kind."

Surprisingly, Alex felt a chuckle bubbling in his chest. It had escaped his throat before he knew it and sounded loud in the tiny s.p.a.ce. He turned back to the woman still busy at her canvas. Tendrils of hair had come loose around her face and gave her a wild appearance. Paint had smeared one cheek. She looked every bit as eccentric as she liked people to believe she was.

"You are such a kook."

She paused, looking at him with one raised brow that he recognized as the patented Lazin sisters glare. "Moi?"

Alex sighed and sat back down so she could paint him without so much effort. "I guess I'm the kook. The jerk, the numbskull, whatever. And I'd gladly tell Sarah that, but..."

"But she won't see you." Rivka nodded. "I know. She's like that. Stubborn.

It's a family trait. But that won't matter because you'll both be at the opening of the gallery and so will he."

"He? You mean Darcy?"

"I invited him to the opening."

"You did what?" Shocked, Alex glared at her.

Rivka smiled. "Down, boy. Relax. It'll be all right."

He couldn't believe Rivka would subject her sister to seeing the man who had

hurt her so badly. He figured Sarah would be tense enough about seeing him there, much less her old boyfriend. "Why?" It had become obvious Rivka wasn't going to explain herself.

"Because it's time Sarai got over him. And besides, I have some information that's going to help you a lot."

"You do?"

Rivka grinned wickedly. Whatever she had up her sleeve was going to be good. "Our Bad Billy isn't keeping his marriage vows."

Alex looked at her cautiously. "What?"

Rivka kept painting--her arms moving faster as she applied paint with both hands. "He's cheating on his wife."

"How do you know this?"

"I've seen them together, him and his fling." Rivka frowned, adding a dab of

paint here and another there. "Harrisburg's a pretty small town, Alex. Word gets around."

"So what does this have to do with me and Sarah?"

"If you were planning on doing anything for Sarah tomorrow night..."

"Yes?" What she left unspoken intrigued him.

Rivka shrugged too casually. "I just thought I'd let you know William is going to be there, that's all. In case you had some things you wanted to tell him. Or make him tell her. Or something."

An idea had begun forming in Alex's head, and he grinned. When Rivka returned the smile, he knew he was thinking exactly what she wanted him to. He winked at her. "Thanks, Rivka. I think I'd like to meet that guy."