The Love Laws (7 page)

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Authors: Tamara Larson

BOOK: The Love Laws
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Body
image aside, Jamie was happy with how Cathy’s idea had blossomed. Originally,
Jamie had wanted to be completely anonymous. After all, the last thing she
wanted was to draw attention to her former sex kitten status and forfeit the
respect she felt she’d gained as a business owner and designer. But complete
anonymity wouldn’t benefit the store, so they’d compromised.

Jessica
shook her head in exasperation. “Um…No. Of course I don’t like these pictures. Seeing
my sister’s assets on display like this does not thrill me. Especially when her
assets strongly resemble my assets. But that’s just one eeny-teeny part of the
problem here. You honestly don’t see why I’m upset?”

“On
display? Hardly. You can’t even see my nipps! I wore way less at The Club.”
Jamie exclaimed as she shredded a paper napkin.

“Don’t
remind me.” Jessica muttered.

“And
no. I don’t see the problem. I’m mostly covered and these articles will be
great publicity for the store. Didn’t Clay tell you about this?”

“He
told me you were going to be doing some kind of advice column. That’s bad
enough. I had no idea you were going to be sharing your harebrained, female chauvinistic
theories with the world while modeling your lingerie designs. This is crazy.
You’re going to have an army of stalkers panting outside our stores. Duncan is
going to have to quit his job and do security to keep the perverts in line.”

Jamie
rolled her eyes. “That’s a complete exaggeration. I’m using my stage name and
the address of the store isn’t even provided. Cathy just mentioned in my introduction
bio that I’m a lingerie designer and former exotic dancer. It’s otherwise
completely anonymous. I don’t even claim to be the designer for that particular
outfit.”

Jessica
yanked the sheet of paper back towards her and pointed to the bottom of the
article. “Jamie. It says, ‘Lingerie provided by Hidden Treasures Inc.,’ right
here. It’s inferred. Any deviant with a computer and internet access is going
to be able to find your store. And from what I know about sickos, they ALL have
computers and internet access and know how to use both items in truly creepy
fashion.”

Jamie
checked her lipstick in her reflection in one of the brass railings across the
back of the booth. “That’s kind of the idea.”

“What?
You want to provide a treasure map so the dregs of humanity can find you?”

“No.
I want potential customers to find me. If they take the trouble to look up
Hidden Treasures online then they’ll come across my website. It’s perfect. I
haven’t had the money to mass produce my designs on the scale necessary to
allow people to shop for them online, but at least they’ll be able to see some
pictures and locate us.”

“So,
why not use a more modest photo? You could do the same thing in a nice,
full-length satin nightgown. Is a black corset and stockings with most of your
bottom hanging out really necessary? Is that the message you want to project to
prospective buyers?”

Jamie
crossed her arms and glared at her sister. “Absolutely. If I want to advertise
my designs and create buzz around the articles then why would I pose in a paper
sack? Sex sells. You know that. And need I remind you that Hidden Treasures is
on the brink of disaster? This may be my last chance to promote it, so I refuse
to go halfway.” Jamie said with complete conviction.

“You’ve
lost your ever-lovin’ mind,” Jessica said with a mournful shake of her head.

Jamie
ignored this comment. “Besides, I may never get another chance,” she whispered
as Duncan approached. She gave Jessica a warning look and grabbed the article,
stuffing it in her briefcase just as her brother-in-law set her Lemon Drop
Martini down in front of her.

“What’s
going on?” Duncan asked as he slid into the booth beside his wife. Usually
Jessica cuddled into his side the second he came within cuddling distance, but
tonight she was too busy glaring at Jamie to notice him. He set her tall glass
down in front of her and took a sip from his own beer, waiting for the drama to
begin. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Nothing.”
Jamie said quickly, giving Duncan a brittle smile. “Mrs. Groinhold here doesn’t
approve of my advertising methods. As usual, she thinks she knows better.
Typical control freak behavior. But I’m sure she means well.” She tossed her
hair. “Let’s talk about something else. How’s work, Dunc? Arrest any poor,
defenseless prostitutes lately?” She took a fortifying sip of her drink and
ignored her sister’s squawk of indignation.

“Jamie.”
Jessica hissed. “Duncan does not arrest prostitutes. He works in the Sex Crimes
Division. Not Vice. He protects women and children from the creeps of the world.
You know that. So quit trying to change the subject by starting an argument. This
is not about my control freak tendencies. This is about your usual risky,
thoughtless behavior. I thought you’d matured over the past year, but
apparently I was wrong. You’re still as impulsive as ever. And this proves it.”

Jamie
threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “Oh Jeez. Not this again. I
thought this lecture had been retired. Do we really need to rehash my sordid
past? Again?”

Jessica
had the grace to look chagrined for about two seconds. “Fine. You’re right. I
won’t bring up the exotic dancing again. But I suppose it hasn’t occurred to
you how this series of articles will affect me? We’re twins and my store is
right next to yours. You’ll be writing about controversial ideas accompanied by
provocative photos. Does that seem smart? Safe? What if you attract a bunch of
unhinged admirers? You can bet that the pervert overflow is going to end up
lurking around my store. The very place that was destroyed by a stalker just
last year, remember?”

Jamie
fought the impulse to gulp. She really hadn’t thought of that at all. She was
willing to take a chance with her own safety, but risking her sister was not
acceptable. Especially considering the fact that Jessica had been attacked in her
bookstore not that long ago.

At
Duncan’s insistence the risk to Jessica’s safety had been mitigated. He’d
ensured that his wife never worked alone and a state-of-the-art security system
had been installed immediately after the assault. At this point, the actual danger
to her sister’s personal safety was minimal. Jessica was exaggerating to make a
point, as usual.

“Of
course, this is all about you and your precious store. My success couldn’t
possibly compare with that.” Jamie drawled, looking down at her long, painted
nails with a deceptively bored expression on her face.

Duncan
had heard enough. The truth was that he wasn’t Jamie’s biggest fan. In his
opinion, Jessica spent entirely too much time worrying about her sister, and he
resented Jamie’s innate selfishness. He really tried not to interfere between
the two women, but Jamie’s sarcastic comment was so blatantly unjust that he
couldn’t help defending his wife.

He
set his beer down, hard, and leaned forward. “Jamie. You know that’s a pile of
shit.” His wife put a placating hand on his arm, but he forged on despite the
warning squeeze on his bicep. “Jessica would do anything to make you happy. I
don’t know exactly what you two are all bent out of shape over, but if I know
her, she’s just trying to give you some perspective. So maybe you should listen
to her instead of acting like a spoiled, stubborn brat.”

“Whatever.”
Jamie said sullenly, sounding very much like a teenager with attitude, even to
her own ears. “What you two seem to be forgetting is that I’ve sunk everything
into this store. Including my inheritance and my savings. Not to mention two
years out of my life. If I don’t do something big to save it, then it’s all
going to be for nothing. I’ll be back at the Kitty-Kat faster than you can say
‘hairball.’” Her voice broke and then she was looking away, trying to hide her
suddenly streaming eyes. “But now I’m too big and too old to be a headliner. So
I’ll be waitressing. Or possibly even bartending if my thunder thighs are too
unsightly to be seen by the customers.”

 Jessica
and Duncan looked at each other in shock. Jamie rarely displayed any
vulnerability, let alone actual tears. She was obviously a lot more upset than
she let on.

Jessica
was sliding around the booth to her sister’s side in a flash, and Duncan was
awkwardly gathering paper napkins and holding them out to his sister-in-law. Even
Hannibal started whining from his perch under the table.

“Oh
my goodness. Is that what this is all about?” Jessica asked, slipping an arm
around Jamie’s shoulder and pressing her forehead against her sister’s bright
hair. “Going back to dancing? Because you know you won’t have to do that. You
could work at the bookstore while I’m off. Forever if you want. Or you could
market your designs independently to department stores. Or you could figure
something else out. Working at that awful place is NOT your only option.”

Jamie
fought the urge to fling her sister’s arm away. Jessica was sweet, but she had
no clue what she was saying. It wasn’t the thought of going back to dancing
that bothered Jamie at all. She had enjoyed her stint at the Kitty Kat Lounge and
didn’t have Jessica’s judgmental attitude towards the job at all. It was losing
her store that was bothering Jamie. She was on the brink of failure and having
to admit that she’d made a huge mistake when she’d sunk all her resources into
Hidden Treasures. This was a very hard pill for her to swallow. Her pride and
her ego felt like she’d put them both through the shredder.

Jessica,
on the other hand, had never failed at anything. She didn’t know what it was
like to find out that her very best wasn’t good enough to succeed. She’d always
gotten exactly what she wanted. Their parent’s favour, the job she wanted, even
her store was a modest success due to the lucrative filming contract she’d
negotiated with a prominent studio. Now she even had the perfect man. Everything
seemed so easy for her twin. It wasn’t Jessie’s fault, but she was completely
incapable of comprehending Jamie’s current dilemma

Instead
of ungraciously rejecting her sister’s job offer in no uncertain terms, Jamie
grabbed the napkins Duncan offered and pressed them to her hot face. Then something
in her head clicked and she looked at Jessica’s drink. It was a milkshake. Her
sister always drank coffee.

“Off?
What do you mean? When you’re off?” She asked, looking at Jessica in puzzlement.

Jessica
and Duncan just beamed sweetly at each other for a moment, and then realization
dawned on Jamie.

“No
way! Clay and I are going to be Aunts? You’re preggers?” She squealed, grabbing
her sister in a bear hug, she bounced up and down in her seat.

Jessica
nodded energetically and bounced with her, squeezing her twin right back.
Annoyance was forgotten in the face of her momentous news.

Duncan
looked on in bemusement as his wife and her sister laughed together. He was still
somewhat unnerved at their volatile relationship. It never failed to amaze him
how they could swing so effortlessly from anger to laughter to tears in a
heartbeat. They were so different personality-wise, and yet in this they truly
were identical.

He
didn’t quite get it, but there was no denying that the two women shared a very
special bond. No matter how much he resented Jamie; there was no denying that
the two women cared for each other, deeply. For his wife he would ignore his
sister-in-law’s selfishness, but someday he sincerely hoped that she would grow
up and learn that the world did not actually revolve around her.

“What
are we celebrating? And can I get in on that?” A deep voice asked, just as
Jamie reached over the table to press a congratulatory smacking kiss on Duncan’s
hard cheek. She had to kneel on the bench seat to reach across, causing her
form-fitting skirt to hike up, revealing most of her long, smooth thighs.

As
gracefully as possible, Jamie yanked her hem down a few modest inches and
turned towards the figure looming over their table. She very nearly did a
double-take. It was Kevin. There was no mistaking that tall, broad frame and
rich voice. But he didn’t look good. Well, actually he looked mouth-wateringly
gorgeous, but rough. Like he hadn’t slept, eaten or shaved in about a week.

The
carefree surfer had disappeared and the man who had taken his place was
obviously troubled, almost haunted. Kevin’s golden tan was mostly gone, and the
skin under his eyes looked bruised and swollen. His bright topaz eyes were
washed out and dull. Worst of all, he seemed thin. The black leather motorcycle
jacket hung from his massive shoulders and the navy blue T-shirt underneath
looked rumpled, like he’d either slept in it or picked it out of the laundry
hamper.

But
that wicked smile was still intact. And some of the dullness in his eyes
sharpened and crystalized as he watched her sink back into her seat.

“Well?”
He asked.

“What?”
She snapped back. She’d been so busy taking inventory of the changes in his
appearance she’d completely missed his question.

Kevin
winked at her and set six full shooter glasses down on the table with a clink.
Then he turned his attention briefly to Duncan. The two friends bumped fists
companionably. “Hey, thanks for inviting me out, Man. I could use the
distraction. You have no idea. Latest project is a bear with hemorrhoids.” He
waved at Jessica who gave him a small smile as she slid back to her spot across
the table next to Duncan.

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