Miss Perfect sashays right up to me, without hesitation. “I’m Kat,” she says, putting out her hand. “Sarah’s best friend.”
She’s got sky-blue eyes. Her long hair is a heart-stopping shade of golden blonde—and it’s obviously totally natural. And, oh my God, this can’t be happening—she’s got a subtle little indentation in her chin, too—the slightest cleft.That’s always been my Achilles’ heel—ever since I made out with Jessica Simpson at Reed’s twenty-first birthday party so many years ago.
“Josh,” I say, taking her hand. “Jonas’ brother.”
“I know,” she says, smirking. “I read the article.” She motions in the direction of the coffee table.
I glance down to see which article she’s referring to, and I’m bummed to discover it’s the one that made Jonas out to be some kind of deep-thinking poet with a Midas touch with investments and me out to be nothing but a giant, throbbing dick with cotton between my ears.
“I sure hope you’re more complicated than that article makes you out to be,” Kat says, her blue eyes sparkling.
I look at Jonas, hoping maybe he’ll step in and say something to help a brother out, like, oh, I dunno, how ’bout, “Oh, that reporter was just trying to sell magazines.” Or, maybe, “We thought we were doing a serious interview about Faraday & Sons and it turned into a fluff piece forTiger Beat.” But Jonas doesn’t say a damned thing on my behalf. Of course, he doesn’t, the motherfucker. I guess now that he’s got his dream girl all locked up he’s content to let me twist in the wind in front of a woman who looks like mine?
“If the article is to be believed,” Kat goes on, smirking at me, “Jonas is the ‘enigmatic loner-investment-wunderkind’ twin—and you’re just the simpleplayboy.”
I laugh. So this girl’s not only gorgeous, she’s sassy, too? Oh, how I like me a sassy woman.
“That’s what the article said?” I ask, even though I know that’s exactly what the article said.
“In so many words,” she says, arching one of her bold eyebrows.
“Hmm,” I say, returning her raised-eyebrow gesture. “Interesting. And if someone were writing a magazine article about you, what gross over-simplification would they use?”
She bites her lip. “I’d be ‘a party girl with a heart of gold.’” She glances at Sarah and they share a smile.
Oh man. This girl’s too much. My skin is buzzing like I’ve just downed a double shot of Patron. “How come I only get a one-word description—playboy—and you get a whole phrase?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Okay, party girl, then.”
“That’s two words,” I say.
Kat raises her eyebrow, yet again. “In this hypothetical magazine article about me,” she purrs, “they’d spell it with a hyphen.”
Oh, well, fuck. My dick just stretched and yawned and said, “Do I smell coffee and doughnuts?”
She smirks. She knows she’s caught a fly in her web. But then again, I’m guessing flies in her web are just par for the course for her.
“So what’s going on here, Party Girl with a Hyphen?” I ask. “I take it we didn’t all congregate here to party?”
“No, unfortunately,” Kat says breezily. “Though, hey, we did have some of your tequila earlier, so thanks for that.” Her mouth tilts up, and I have the palpable urge to kiss it. “No, I’m just here to support Sarah,” she says, “and, well, I think I might be some kind of refugee in all this, too.” She looks at Jonas and frowns. “Although I think maybe Jonas is being slightly overprotective having me stay here. I’m not sure yet.”
“You’re arefugeein all this?” I ask, suddenly on full alert. “What the fuck’s going on, Jonas?”
Jonas grunts. “Sit down,” he says.
I sit down, my stomach churning. I can’t for the life of me guess what he’s about to tell me. How are SarahandKat involved in whatever the fuck’s going on? I can’t even fathom the connection.
Jonas takes a deep breath and launches into a story that immediately makes my brain hurt.Sarah worked for The Club? And she was Jonas’ intake agent—the one who reviewed his application?Holy shit! Well, well, well, Little Miss Sarah Cruz isn’t quite thenaive little law student I thought she was, after all. But, hang on, Jonas is still yammering. There’s more?Sarah emailed Jonas after reading his application? And that’s when he got a boner to find her?Oh my God. This is too much. What the fuck did little Miss Cruz say to Jonas in that email of hers? And what the hell did he say in his application that caught Sarah’s attention in the first place?
Oh my God. There’s even more to the story. Jonas is still talking. I can’t fucking believe it. Some woman in a purple bracelet showed up to meet Jonas at a check-in before he’d ever met Sarah and—hang on, I thought Jonas said he never actually became a member of The Club—and then that same woman turned up at another guy’s check-in wearing a yellow bracelet?—and Jonas knows all this because Sarah and Kat went to spy at both check-ins! Whoa, whoa, whoa.Sarah went to spy on Jonas at a check-in with a woman in The Club?Holy shit. And, even after that, she’s nonetheless sitting here right now, looking at Jonas like he walks on water? Now that’s an open-minded woman. I wonder if Kat’s as open-minded as her kinky little law-student friend.
I glance at Sarah and she flashes me an endearing look that could only be described as “adorkable.” I laugh out loud. Well, shit. If this girl’s kinky, then I must be shy and intellectual. Oh man, Sarah’s a total dork, through and through, God love her—no wonder my dork of a brother digs her.
“. . . so I was thinking we could try to trace The Club through emails,” Jonas is saying. “Do you still have any of the emails from when you were a member?” he asks.
Gee, thanks, Jonas.Is my brothertryingto keep me from getting laid by the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?
I glance at Kat, my cheeks instantly turning red, and I’m surprised to find her eyes blazing at me.Oh. Nice. Kat’s not grossed out by the revelation that I’m a past member of The Club, she’sintrigued.Lovely.