Sure enough, Daphne was sitting in front of the makeup mirror, crying. She wiped her eyes with one hand and dug through all of Kylie's neatly sorted makeup with the other. Pinning a smile to her face, Kylie approached. "Hey, Daph, what are you looking for?"

Daphne continued to weep, sniffling loud. "Have you seen Marco?"

"Marco?" Kylie gave her a puzzled look.

"Marco Polo?"

At first, Kylie thought it was a joke. But Daphne kept crying and digging through Kylie's stack of eye shadows and she realized this must be another nickname for someone. "I haven't. Can I get you anything?"

This was the wrong thing to say. Daphne's eyes lit up and she turned to Kylie, a crazed look on her face. "Do you have any stuff?"

"Stuff?"

"Rock? Blow? Pills? Something? I need a pick-me-up." She rubbed a hand across her eyes again and for a moment she looked incredibly young. "I'm so tired all the time."

"I don't have drugs," she told Daphne softly. Part of her wanted to hug the pop star, and part of her wanted to give her a good shake. She settled for picking a tube of lip gloss up off of the floor and putting it back in its place. "Can I get you a water or something?"

But Daphne began to cry again. "Marco has all the good stuff and I don't know where he is and I'm so sleepy. I just want to take a nap and I go on stage in an hour and a half."

"You can't cry," Kylie told her, taking a determined tone and offering Daphne a box of Kleenex. "Your face is going to be on all kinds of magazines tomorrow and you want to look your best, don't you?"

"I don't care about magazines. I just want a nap. Why is Marco hiding from me?"

Kylie gave her a helpless look. "I suppose I could go look for him-" She stopped that train of thought when Snoopy showed up in the corner of her eye and gave her a silent shake of her head and a throat-cutting motion. Okay. So Marco was "hiding" deliberately. They probably didn't want Daphne on something when she went on stage. Poor thing. She stroked Daphne's hair, feeling sorry for her. She should be excited to start a tour, not miserable. "You know what? I think there's a coffee place up the street. I could go run and get you something to pep you up before it's time for makeup?"

Daphne's tearstained face lit up. "Really? You'd do that for me, Fat Marilyn?"

"Yup," she said. Anything to make Daphne stop crying. "How about an espresso?"

Daphne clapped her hands. "I need an extra-large iced coffee with a quad-shot of espresso. Heavy on the sugar, heavy on the cream."

"That sounds awful," Kylie said with a small laugh. "But it does sound like it'll wake you up."

"Short of them grinding the beans into the ice cubes, yup." Daphne actually looked happy. "Thank you so much. Coffee sounds awesome. I'm thinking about adding it to my goddamn rider, not that anyone reads the fucking thing." She bellowed the last part and gave Snoopy a glare.

"I'll just run and get that coffee," Kylie said, grabbing her wallet and running for the door.

"Flee while you can," Snoopy told her, and it sounded like good advice to Kylie.

- Parked in front of the coffee shop was a hot pink Lyons roadster that made Kylie drool with want. She was so busy admiring it and staring that she automatically reached for the door to the cafe . . . and ended up grabbing at someone's belt buckle and the fabric below.

And possibly some junk. Possibly.

"Oh!" She jerked backward, shocked. Of all the humiliating things to do. She looked up . . . and immediately felt flustered.

Kylie had to admit her instincts had great taste, though. If she had to grab anyone's junk, at least it was this guy's. Because good lord, he was gorgeous. Blond tousled hair, a gray business suit, and a pair of smiling blue eyes crinkled with amusement at her.

"Oh, my God, I am so, so sorry," Kylie told him. "I thought you were the door."

"I can safely say that's probably the first time I've heard that from a beautiful woman." He grinned at her and opened the door-the real one-for her. "After you?"

Humiliation burned her cheeks, and she ducked her head and stepped into the coffee shop, hoping that he wouldn't follow her in.

No such luck-the handsome man was two steps behind her as she went inside. She bit her lip, wondering if she needed to apologize again. Say something clever, funny. Something. Anything. Steeling herself, she turned around to face him. "I don't normally grab men when I head into a coffee shop," she told him. "But since I did, I feel like I should buy you a drink."

He threw back his head and laughed. "What sort of groping do I endure for a bagel?"

"Bagels are cheap," she found herself teasing back. "No more than a quick squeeze for one of those."

"Not even if I ask for lox?" His eyes were so blue, surrounded by thick lashes. He looked like an angel. A very naughty, flirty angel.

"Not even," she told him, a smile tugging at her mouth. Then she offered him her hand. "Kylie."

"Cade," he told her, shaking her hand. As he held her fingers, he leaned in. "And I can buy my own bagels, truly. I just wanted to see what was on the menu."

Was he flirting with her or just being polite? When he gestured that she should step in front of him at the counter, she decided that it was simply politeness. He was just a nice guy having a little fun at the coffee shop. She smiled awkwardly at the man behind the counter. "I need a small black coffee, regular blend, and an extra-large iced coffee with a quad-shot of espresso. Loads of sugar and cream."

Cade chuckled. "Is all that sugar for you?"

She shook her head and held out a twenty to the cashier. "Mine's the black. I can't drink all that sugar."

"Too sweet?"

She stepped aside so he could order, and wondered briefly how blunt she should be with him. Then, she supposed, it didn't matter. She wouldn't see him again. "Too many calories. I'm already fat enough."

"Small black coffee," Cade told the man behind the counter. He paid and then turned back to Kylie, waiting at the counter while their drinks were prepared.

An uncomfortable silence fell. Kylie gave him a tight expression as he studied her. Then he said, "You know, I happen to think you're gorgeous."

A pleased smile curved her mouth. He was so nice. "Aw, thank you. I bet you say that to all the girls in coffee shops."

"No, I mean it. You're really lovely. I'm not just saying that to make conversation." His grin was sincere. "If I was, I'd comment on how I had a friend that used to order a drink just like the one you did. All the espresso in the world, tons of creamer, tons of sugar. She loved it."

"It's for my friend, too." Skinny, skinny Daphne could probably be considered a friend. Theoretically.

He still wore his smile as the barista set both black coffees on the counter, and then went to work on Daphne's monstrous caffeine concoction. Cade reached for his drink and then offered Kylie hers. His smile no longer seemed friendly, though. It just seemed . . . sad, almost. And it made her wonder.

"So," she asked, since he didn't seem to be leaving, "do you live here? In Chicago?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm in town to see a friend. You?"

Kylie shook her head. "Work. We travel a lot." She avoided mentioning who she worked for. She knew from past experience that even though Cade looked nice and normal-and okay, divinely handsome-the moment she mentioned what she did, people asked for tickets. It was best to just be vague. She gestured at the street. "I was coming here to do a coffee run, actually, and I noticed that car out front."

"The Lyons roadster?" Cade's smile quirked and reappeared.

"That's it," she said. "It's really gorgeous." And it was. A dainty little sports car, the Lyons out front had a hot pink exterior and purple interior that made Kylie adore it despite its impracticality. She had no need for a car due to her job, but if she got one, it'd be something like that flashy little beauty out front. "Makes me wonder about who drives such a thing."

"Well, I do for the next few hours," Cade told her, sipping his coffee. At her look of surprise, he added, "Then it's going into the care of an old friend of mine."

An old friend? Judging by the utter femininity of the car, she could guess what kind of friend it was. Figured. The good ones were always taken, weren't they? Of course Cade had a romantic interest. He was gorgeous, funny, charming, dressed well, and judging from the looks of things, had a fair amount of money if he was buying a Lyons for a lady friend. "Well, your friend is quite lucky to have you in her life."

The smile he gave her was sad and troubled. He looked back at the car thoughtfully, but was silent.

And that made Kylie's heart ache. Because whoever this handsome man wanted, it was clear he was miserable over her. He didn't look like a happy man in love. He looked . . . desperate. As if he were running out of options.

Poor guy. She hated to see that.

Kylie moved in and leaned closer to him, clutching her coffee close. "Whoever your friend is," she murmured, "if she doesn't take one look at that car and drag you off to bed for the next week, she's crazy."

At that, his smile broadened, and his attention fixed on Kylie once more. "I wish my friend were more like you, then."

I wish your friend was me, she thought, but only gave him a friendly wink. Then her coffee order was up, and it was time to leave. She gave Cade a small wave as she left, and he returned her gesture with a nod.

As Kylie headed back down the streets toward the music hall, she was filled with longing. Why couldn't she find a great guy like Cade? Someone that cared enough about her to surprise her with a ridiculous present . . . or heck, just enough to get sad-eyed when he missed her? Why couldn't she find a guy like that to be with? Why were they always taken?

There was no denying that there'd been a connection between them. It was obvious to her; some people you just clicked with instantly, and she and Cade had clicked. She'd briefly thought about asking him for his number, but she wasn't a masochist. Work had to come first for now, because she needed the money. Nursing home care was ungodly expensive.

But one thing was clear to Kylie-whoever held Cade's heart? She didn't know what she had. And if she did, she wasn't being very careful with it. Someone like Cade only came around once in a girl's lifetime.

And someone as plain and dumpy as Kylie didn't stand a chance of stealing him away.

FOUR.

Music blasted through the walls of the greenroom in the concert hall, and even though the interior walls were protected by layers and layers of padding and drywall, it still thumped loud enough to make Cade's head hurt. He drummed his fingers on his knee, holding his bourbon in his other hand, and watched another pair of strangers in schoolgirl costumes pass by, giggling as they did. He didn't know if they were Daphne's fans or part of her entourage; they all seemed to dress weird.

For the tenth time in the last hour, he wondered why the hell he was here.

Cade was backstage in Daphne's private lounge area. Except it wasn't so private. It was filled with people in varying shades of drinking and getting high, press people, and Daphne's crew. In short, what he assumed would be a private meeting with Daphne wasn't going to be private at all.

He didn't know what to make of that. But he'd suggested that he and Daphne get together and talk about things, and she'd offered for him to meet her after her first concert on the new tour. She'd promised him alone time.

And because he could never resist Daphne, he'd agreed.

Except now, looking around, he wasn't exactly sure what he'd agreed to. Another song wailed through the walls, and his drink shook from the vibrations of the speakers. The posters on the walls of the crowded room were various promotional photos of Daphne in her cutesy costumes, winking at the camera. In each one, she looked healthy and beautiful, and it made him hope that when he saw her, she'd be just as gorgeous as she was in the photos. That it wasn't just photoshop.

If happy, healthy Daphne was blowing him off, he could live with that, really. He'd just tuck his heart back into its hiding place and go about his life as he always had.

He still felt out of place, though. Here he was in a suit and tie, and everyone else seemed to be in jeans or various states of undress. In the corner, there was a girl in a dress made entirely of what looked like leather buckles, and she was doing lines off of a mirror, which made him frown. Did Daphne know her entourage had drugs? She needed to stay away from that sort of thing if she was going to get better.

Sometimes he wondered if Daphne even wanted to get better. She swore that she did, but then she surrounded herself with people who used, people who partied, people who were the worst kinds of influences to someone with weak willpower.

And maybe he wanted Daphne to be healthy and drug-free more than Daphne wanted it.

Cade took another heavy swig of his drink, disgusted by the thought. Of course Daph wanted to get better. She'd said so, and she'd said she wanted him in her life.

So here he was, ignoring an important medical conference he'd been invited to in favor of sitting backstage, waiting for a pop star and hoping she'd tell him she was eight months clean and she loved him and could they give their strange relationship another go.

And because the thought of a negative answer made him a little queasy, Cade downed the rest of his bourbon and went to get another.

As he waited at the bar, two women wandered into the back room, arguing. One carried a bright yellow polka-dotted pyramid of cases, and the other had an armful of costumes.

"I'm not paying you," grumbled the one with the costumes. "You cheated."

"How did I cheat?" said the one with the bright yellow stack of cases. She turned and Cade admired her figure as she bent over. She wore a tight black pair of capris and wedge heels that made her shapely calves stand out. Her ass was full and lush. Maybe a bit more than was considered typically beautiful by today's standards, but he liked it. After seeing Daphne's wraith-thinness, he had a new appreciation for a healthy figure, even a thick one. If Daphne looked like this woman did, he'd be unable to keep his hands off of her.

The woman turned to face him, and Cade's eyes widened.

It was the beautiful girl that had flirted with him at the coffee shop earlier. Kylie. His cock immediately stirred and he shifted in his seat at the bar, uncomfortable. He was just looking, of course. Admiring another woman didn't mean he wasn't interested in Daph. It just meant that he enjoyed a fine-looking form. And really, Daphne had looked like that once upon a time, all lush curves and pale skin.

"Cheater," the one with the clothes said. "You knew she'd fuck up her costumes."

Kylie's full red mouth just pulled into a brilliant smile, and Cade couldn't stop staring at her. "I had a hunch, but I didn't know for sure," she told the other woman. She picked up one of the cases and set it down on a table, then opened it up and began to pull out small tubes of makeup. "If she treats her clothes anything like her makeup, you should have known better than to take the bet."

The other woman just shook her head, shoved a five into Kylie's hand, and wandered away.

Just then, the bartender handed Cade his latest drink. Perfect timing. Cade couldn't help but head over toward Kylie, newest drink in hand. There was just something about her that was incredibly vibrant that drew him. And even though he knew his reasons weren't completely aboveboard, he couldn't stop himself from approaching to say hello again.

Her head was bent over the box of makeup, and she didn't notice his approach. It gave him a chance to get a good look at her. She was plush all right, her figure rounded, her breasts plump and straining against the fabric of her tight, low-cut shirt, as if she'd dressed to entice him specifically. He loved a fine pair of breasts, and the bigger the better.

He took another swig of his drink. Great, now he was sounding like Reese.

She was real pretty, though. Her makeup was done in a retro style that emphasized her big brown eyes, and her hair was bleached a bright yellow blond with red tips, and drawn into two ponytails that rested on her shoulders. Her bangs were big and curled, and her entire look was "plump beach bunny." And Cade loved it. She just looked so vibrant and happy. So damn alive.

Why couldn't Daphne look half as stunning as Kylie? He knew from recent pictures that Daphne was still stick thin, the only curves on her body her fake breasts. Eight months after going to rehab, she still didn't have the healthy look he remembered.

Then again, if she'd looked half as tempting as Kylie did, would he have waited eight months to see her again? Or would he have dropped everything and demanded that they get back together? It wasn't just Daphne's appearance that made him reticent, though. It was everything. It was knowing she was circling the drain and being unable to help her.

But seeing Kylie, he remembered their connection at the coffee shop. "I should have guessed you worked for Daphne when you ordered that coffee monstrosity," he told her, walking up. He wanted to lean in and whisper it, but that might have made her skittish. "Hello again."

Kylie turned around and her mouth opened in surprise, forming a perfect red O that made him think all kinds of inappropriate things. She recovered in the next moment, juggling the tubes of lipstick in her grip and sticking a hand out for him to shake. "Hi again! Oh my goodness. I didn't expect to see you here!"

He took her hand and clasped it in his own, liking that her grip was warm and firm. Her nails were a delicate, girly pink and perfectly manicured. "Pleasure's all mine."

A hint of a blush touched her cheeks and she beamed at him. "What are you doing backstage?"

"I'm here to see someone," he told her, releasing her hand reluctantly and stuffing his hands back into the pockets of his jacket, a habit of his he should really break at some point. He ended up trashing a lot of his jackets that way.

The look on her face turned to one of intense pleasure, and her eyes sparkled. "You're kidding. Really?"

"Remember? The car?"