“Why isn’t she interested? Are they all losers or something?”
“Nah. She’s just…” Sam stopped. “Look, you really need to ask Dusty these questions, man. I’m not comfortable with this.”
“Fair enough.” Zach stopped pushing. He would ask Dusty. Tonight. “By the way, Dusty and I ran into Angie this morning. She invited us all to some shindig tonight in the Westminster Room at our hotel. Dallas and Chelsea are going.”
“Hang out with our self-important older brother and his prima donna wife? Count me out. Besides, Sam and I were going to cruise the bars.”
“Look, I don’t want to hang out with Dallas any more than you do, but cruising the bars? Grow up, will you?”
“And stop having fun? I’m not that old, bro.”
“Then put off your cruising until tomorrow. Dusty and I need the two of you to go to the Bay thing tonight.”
“Aw, Zach. Name one reason why we should go hang out with Angelina Bay. And Chelsea. God.”
“Free beer?”
Chad smiled. “Now that’s one good reason, brother.”
* * *
The Westminster Room at the Windsor Hotel could have doubled for the Queen’s parlor at Buckingham Palace. At least that’s how it seemed to Dusty. The Bays were apparently as rich, or richer, than the McCrays. Dusty felt underdressed in her black skirt and creamy silk blouse, though Zach had assured her she looked gorgeous. Most of the women wore cocktail attire. Not that Dusty had any cocktail attire.
Zach looked luscious in black trousers and a white oxford, no tie. A smattering of ebony chest hair peeked out from his collar. Sexy. Sam and Chad had already arrived and were hanging out at the bar, having engaged a few available women. Dusty shook her head.
“Your brother’s a bad influence on my brother.”
“Darlin’, my brother’s a bad influence on everyone. But I think Sam can take care of himself.”
“If you say so. It seems the two of them are cut from the same cloth.”
“Both about six-four, good looking, what do you expect?”
“I expect my brother to act his age.”
“Yeah, well, good luck with that.”
Dusty sighed. “Now what?”
“We pay respects to our hostess, I guess.”
“You can’t wait to see her, can you?”
“Now just a minute—”
“Cool off. I’m just joking.” Dusty smiled at him. “I can charm the pants off anyone. Just look how I fared with Diablo.”
“Darlin’, I don’t doubt it for a minute. Come on.”
Zach grabbed her hand and led her to Angelina, who was talking to a tall, nice looking man. Angelina looked quite pretty, much to Dusty’s dismay, in a dark plum satin dress that fell below her knees, accented by strappy black sandals. Dusty felt frumpy in her skirt and blouse and black pumps. Angelina’s hair had been let loose from the Mary Ann bunches and fell in dark waves to her shoulders.
At least my hair is just as nice as hers, Dusty thought, and longer. She shook her head, the red-blond waves falling midway down her back.
“Zach!” Angelina gushed, leaving the dark-haired man. “I’m so glad you came. And Donna. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Dusty,” Zach said, his lips pursed. “Thank you for having us.”
“Make yourselves at home. We have plenty of food and drink. The deejay’ll be firing up in a half hour or so. I hope you’ll save me a dance.”