“Who? What? What was that?” Laura said as she skidded across the floor and stood next to Sean. “Someone wants to join the Blacklist Book Club?”
Sean turned to Laura. “I beg your pardon?”
Isabel closed her eyes and prayed for strength. The last thing she needed was for Sean to have more ammunition against her at the next Sunday dinner.
“We read books that have been blacklisted in Seedling,” Laura announced with pride.
Sean slowly turned back to Isabel. “Isabel failed to mention that part.”
“Is it a deal breaker for you?” Isabel asked hopefully.
“No, Sean.” Laura rested her hand against his arm, her lime-green manicured nails clashing with his conservative suit. “You must join. We need a man in the group.”
“I disagree,” Isabel said as her gaze clashed with Sean’s. “A man would change the tone of the book discussions.”
“For the better,” she heard Laura insist. “Sydney was saying the other day that we should have a male’s point of view to balance out the discussions.”
That sounded like Sydney, Isabel decided. As a reporter, Sydney always wanted to hear the other side of the argument.
Laura patted Sean’s arm. “I’m sure if I called Sydney now, she would convince you to come to the next meeting. It’s tomorrow at Isabel’s apartment.”
“He hasn’t read the book,” Isabel said. And she hoped he never would. She had used almost every technique the book described on him. “And the ones the library had are all checked out. Sorry.”
“I can borrow yours,” he told Isabel. “I know you have finished reading it.”
His comment left her flustered. Was he aware of all the seductive techniques she had tried on him? “Why would you assume that?”
“You’d never wait until the last minute to finish an assignment.”
“You know Isabel well,” Laura said with a laugh. “Go on, Isabel. Give him your copy.”
Isabel’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She was outnumbered and outmaneuvered. She marched across the floor to her office and retrieved the book from her desk. When she spun around, Sean and Laura were standing by her office door. Look at the bright side, she thought as she reluctantly handed over the book to Sean, at least you didn’t write any notes in the margins or underline any passages.
“I’ll take good care of it,” he promised.
“The meeting starts at seven-thirty,” she said.
“It’s casual,” Laura said, eyeing his suit and tie. “And bring a bottle of wine.”
He gave a nod and left, but Isabel was still a jumble of nerves. “I don’t know about this, Laura,” she muttered.
“You’ve got to lighten up, Isabel.” Laura gave a playful punch on her arm. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
2
“YOU ARE WRONG,” Sydney declared.
Sean had never attended a book club meeting before so he hadn’t been sure what to expect. From what he’d heard about the reading circle, he’d assumed he was going to suffer through a structured format. The Blacklist Book Club, however, was a free-for-all.
Laura held her hands up as if that would silence everyone. “I stand by what I said.”
Sean leaned back in his chair as he watched the women argue. He could tell they were friends but the three couldn’t be more different. Sydney Tate was furiously flipping through her dog-eared copy while Laura lounged on the sofa, not requiring any data to back up her words. Isabel sat primly on the edge of her chair as she listened to her friends.
“It’s true,” Laura said as she folded her legs on the sofa. “This book is way better than the erotic diary.”
Sydney gave a snort. “That’s like comparing apples to oranges.”
“How can you say that, Laura?” Isabel turned her head abruptly, causing her blond hair to swing. He remembered running his fingers through the blunt cut. He ached with the need to bury his hands into her soft and silky hair.
“Listen, Isabel, I know that the erotic diary had a big impact on you,” Laura said. “It changed your outlook on life, and not just in the way you dress.”
Sean noticed Isabel’s shoulders tense and he got the sense that she was trying desperately not to glance at him. But it was too late. He’d heard. She couldn’t refute that even her friends believed she had been under the influence of that erotic diary lately.
He didn’t feel victorious. A small part of him didn’t want to be right because it meant that night hadn’t been special to her. That he wasn’t special to her. The knowledge settled in his chest like a dull ache.