She took a final look at herself in the full-length mirror in her room. The dress wasn’t new, but it flattered her shape, a black designer dress that wrapped around her body in intricate layers, low cut in front and in back. It hugged her curves right down to her knees, the skirt so narrow she had to walk in uncharacteristically small steps. Daringly, she wore the spiky black patent pumps she usually reserved for parties at Le Château, along with her usual diamond studs in her ears and a diamond hanging on a gold wire around her neck. She’d put her hair up in a loose chignon, something she didn’t often bother with, her long bangs hanging in a sweep over her eyes.
“Why are you even coming tonight?” she asked Sasha as she descended the wide stairs to the foyer of the house and found her sister waiting. Sasha’s sequined red dress glittered under the lights of the Chihuly chandelier in the foyer. Her long blonde hair, that paler shade of blonde than Tara’s own, hung in a perfect straight curtain and her glossy red lips matched her dress.
“It’s dinner at Insatiable.” Sasha gave her a cheeky grin. “Who could say no to that?”
“It’s a business dinner,” Tara reminded her. “Remember? Olives are boring?”
“I know, but you can’t talk business all night.”
Tara sighed, recognizing her own contrariness. She didn’t want to play hostess for their guests, but she didn’t want Sasha there either. What was wrong with her?
They drove from their home in Hope Ranch to the restaurant near Stearns Wharf and then pulled up in front. Tiny white lights glimmered in the topiaries flanking the doors. They entered the restaurant and an attractive redhead in a strapless, form-fitting black dress greeted them with a beaming smile. She led them through the restaurant to the back.
A half-wall decorated with stunning sculptures and plants separated the back area from the rest of the dining room, the subtle lighting delineating the separate area. The long table set for twelve gleamed with silver and crystal, and small fresh flower arrangements of white orchids and olive branches lined the middle of the table. Jazzy piano music played softly in the background.
“Can I get you a drink while you wait for the rest of your party?” offered a waiter, young and gorgeous like everyone else who worked there.
“I’ll have a martini,” Sasha said immediately.
Tyrone gave her a look, then ordered a glass of Scotch, and Tara requested a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.
“We have several available by the glass,” the young man said. “Would you like to see the wine list?”
She shook her head. “The Honey Estates Sauvignon Blanc, please,” she requested, naming a local winery. He nodded approvingly.
“I’ll be right back.” He flashed a brilliant white smile and left.
“This is beautiful,” Tara said. “I haven’t been here for a while.”
Their Italian guests and the two olive growers from Napa, along with their wives, arrived. They exchanged greetings and ordered drinks, and then the last to join them arrived, Joe and another man.
Joe wore another expensive-looking suit Tara was pretty sure was Armani. God, the man could fill out a suit. His dark hair was combed back off his face, but she knew that wayward lock would soon be hanging over his forehead.
And who was that with him? He was about the same height as Joe, not quite as broad through the shoulders. His dark hair was cut very close to his nicely shaped head and he also wore an expensive looking suit.
Tara heard Sasha’s gasp behind her. Sasha’s long nails dug into her arm.
“What is he doing here?” she hissed into Tara’s ear. Startled, Tara looked down at her sister.
“Grandpa invited him,” she said calmly. “Wouldn’t you expect him to come tonight?”
Then she realized Sasha wasn’t looking at Joe—she was looking at his friend.
Joe entered the restaurant and looked around. He was no stranger to restaurants, having practically grown up in one, and the elegance of this one impressed him. The buzz in the room indicated it was the place to be and he could see every table was full, except one quickly and discreetly being cleared and set. The hostess showed them through to the back area where the Santa Ynez group had been set up.
As he walked around the half-wall, his eyes immediately went to Tara and his breath caught. It was a side to her he hadn’t seen—different from the professional businesswoman in a suit or the Dominatrix wannabe at Le Château. Tonight her hair was in a sophisticated up-do and her elegant dress outlined her sexy shape. The V in the back showed off the curve of her spine, and when she turned, the similar V in front revealed a hint of rounded, gleaming cleavage. She was wearing those do-me shoes, though, and he had to swallow hard to get control of his hardening body.
Her sister stood by her side in a sparkly red dress, her hair pale blonde, her skin tanned, the nails on the hand clutching her martini glass long and manicured. Her full lips, so much like Tara’s, were red and shiny and she wore a lot more makeup than Tara did. They did look alike, but Sasha’s vivid sexiness did nothing for him. It was Tara’s understated beauty that drew his eyes back.
He shot Nick a glance as he moved forward to greet Tara and her sister. Nick’s black frown was not a good thing. Then he remembered—Nick and Sasha. Hey, Joe had had no idea Sasha would be joining them.
“Tara,” Joe murmured as they drew closer. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she said. “You remember my sister, Sasha.” Sasha was staring at Nick with an expression as happy as his. A thick tension enveloped the four of them.
“Um…and this is my friend, Nick Findlay,” Joe said. “Nick, this is Tara Lockhart. Your grandfather told me to invite him along,” he explained to Tara. Then for Nick’s benefit, he added, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight, Sasha.”
Sasha didn’t even glance at Joe, her eyes fastened on Nick. “Isn’t that funny?” she gave a quavery little laugh. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Nick.”
Nick’s mouth formed a grim line.
Joe looked back and forth between Nick and Sasha, then his eyes met Tara’s, questioningly. She gave a minute lift of one shoulder.
“Sasha, tell us about the ball you’re organizing for the Youth Action Center,” Tara said smoothly. Apparently she did have some social skills when she chose to use them. Huh. She sipped her glass of wine and smiled at her sister and Nick with slightly raised brows. “When is the gala this year?”
When Sasha didn’t immediately respond, Nick said, “September fifteenth. Plans are well under way.”
A waiter arrived to take drink orders, interrupting for a moment.
“The gala is our biggest fundraising event,” Nick continued. “Our corporate sponsors, like Santa Ynez Olives, have been very generous in past years.”
Tara smiled. “It’s important to be good corporate citizens. And we enjoy giving back to the community where we do business.”
Joe wanted to shake his head. Where had this smooth-talking hostess come from?
Nick smiled and nodded, although the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and Sasha scowled.
Tyrone joined them at that moment. Joe introduced him to Nick. “We haven’t met.” Tyrone shook his hand firmly. “I was on the board at the Action Center for many years, but that was before your time.”
Nick nodded, smiling faintly. “I’ve certainly heard about all your contributions. We were just talking about how generous your company has been to our organization.”
“Of course, of course. And Sasha’s doing some fundraising work for you, I understand.”
“Uh…yeah.” Again Nick’s eyes connected with Sasha’s, then slid away.
What was going on between them? Nick had denied any interest in her because she reminded him of his ex-wife, but clearly there was something there.