Beside her, Siobhan could have seemed plain by comparison, but the pretty Irish redhead had such a strong presence that it was easy to see that the two were well-matched.
"That," Wyatt confessed, pointing across the room. "If Kelsey didn't know much about Hollywood before, after ten minutes with Evelyn she'll be better versed than a staffer with TMZ."
"Who's Kelsey?" Siobhan asked.
"The sister to the voice of Arnold," Wyatt said. "Griffin Blaize."
"Oh, I met him earlier," Cass said. "Really nice guy. He heard I do ink and wanted to ask me what I thought about covering up some of his scars with tats. Said he was thinking of doing it next year as a birthday present to himself."
"Can you do that?" Wyatt asked.
"Probably. It depends on the scar. And if I can't, we can always work the scar into a larger design. One guy wanted this really intense scar on his leg left alone--it looked like exposed muscle--but wanted me to ink a zipper around it. I have to admit, it looked pretty cool when it was done."
Siobhan made a face. "If you like horror movies. Unzipping your skin? Not for me."
"Hey," Cass said. "It was a stellar job."
Wyatt only laughed, but silently he agreed with Siobhan.
"Well, hopefully he doesn't want zippers," Siobhan said. "But we've gotten totally off topic. Because what I want to know is why Wyatt's been staring at Griffin's sister."
"Oh, is she the one you found?" Cass leaned sideways, as if to get a better look. "She's definitely got an allure."
"Wait, wait, wait." Siobhan raised a hand. "I thought you didn't have the girl. Or you did, but you lost her."
Wyatt raked his fingers through his hair. He really didn't want to have this conversation, but it looked like he was having it anyway. He moved between the women, hooking his arms through theirs, and steered them to a far corner.
"She was all set," he admitted. "But then she--I guess you could say she got cold feet."
"Is she a model?" Cass asked.
"No."
"Well, maybe that's why. It's hard to put yourself on display like that."
Wyatt laughed. "Siobhan offered you up if I don't get someone else. And unless I've been seriously misinformed, you're not a model."
Cass waved her hand with a dismissive, "Oh, please. I don't need that shit. I put myself on display all the time."
"True," Wyatt said, then looked between the two of them. "Which is why it can't be you."
"But--" Siobhan began.
"It's nothing personal," he said to Cass. "You're just too, I don't know, strong."
"Strong?" Siobhan repeated. "Wyatt, we're down to the wire, here."
"I know, but Cass just isn't the model I need. Sorry," he added to the woman in question.
Cass shrugged. "No, I get it. Kelsey has a look. Sex mixed with sweetness. I'm not sweet."
"No, you're really not," Siobhan agreed.
Cass glared at her. "Love you, too, babe."
"But it's true," Wyatt said, his voice turning wistful as he imagined Kelsey in his bedroom. "Kelsey would be as likely to wear a fluffy flowered robe as a slinky red dress. And you can imagine her in a virginal white nightgown with the covers up to her neck as easily as an Agent Provocateur thong with her wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts."
Cass stepped around the two of them and stared blatantly in Kelsey's direction. "I see what you mean," she said, earning a smack from Siobhan.