Sheer Decadence. Tanya Michaels

of her fridge were wilted lettuce and half-empty condiment bottles of everything from lime juice to Worcestershire sauce.

      Deli takeout it is, then.

      By the time she pulled into a parking garage close to her favorite downtown delicatessen, she was starving. She hurried across the sidewalk, her trench coat not completely protecting her from the crisp evening air. As she waited at the intersection for oncoming traffic to stop, she shot an envious sidelong glance toward the expensive four-star restaurant on the corner.

      Lacking an occasion big enough to justify the price tag, she’d never dined there. Now, she unconsciously pressed a hand to her empty stomach and fantasized about the meals lucky patrons were enjoying inside. She covertly studied the candlelit booths on the other side of the thick glass window and tried not to feel too much like a gastronomical Peeping Tom.

      Justin.

      Her jaw dropped as she did a double take. Yes, that was definitely Justin Hawthorne inside.

      Aware she was staring openly, Olivia snapped her gaze to the blinking red upraised hand across the street. But a quick glance back showed Justin hadn’t noticed her. His attention was fully devoted to the beautiful blonde seated across from him, a slim young woman in a little black dress.

      The blonde reached across the table for Justin’s hand, and anger churned in the pit of Olivia’s stomach. She’d rescheduled her vacation for a dinner date! She should be in South Carolina tonight and en route to her vacation Friday, but Justin had ruined that with his “emergency.”

      The sign on the other side of the crosswalk finally changed, flashing the picture of a stick-figure pedestrian, and she marched forward, fuming. She wasn’t an unreasonable woman. If tonight’s date had been, for instance, an anniversary or a marriage proposal, she could’ve understood. But if the blonde was a serious girlfriend, what was he doing flirting with Diane and making dinner plans with Kate?

      Either leading on the poor sweet kid from HR, or taking a leaf from Sean’s book and cheating on his girlfriend.

      Fists clenched, Olivia entered the deli. As the warm air and aroma of fresh-baked bread hit her, she realized she didn’t actually have much of an appetite left. She’d spent all day castigating herself for hastily judging him, telling herself that his being attractive wasn’t a crime. She’d apologized to him, made a point of being extra friendly when she’d seen him in the parking garage this morning—only to learn he was like too many other men, interested in beautiful women and his own selfish pleasure. Forget work or any inconvenience to anyone else’s life.

      Her first self-protective instincts about Justin Hawthorne had been right. Every inch The Guy, a creature with more testosterone than conscience, he should have a bright orange warning label smacked across his forehead. Why couldn’t she learn once and for all to stop pushing aside prudence in favor of a handsome smile?

      JUSTIN WALKED into the dim smoky interior of Hewitt’s Bar shortly before midnight. Although he’d need to get out of bed before dawn to drive Andrea to the airport, he’d been restless after they’d returned from dinner, so he’d called his friend Bryan Tanner to meet for a couple of beers and a game of pool. On the weekend, when management brought a DJ in, Hewitt’s was a popular spot to socialize and meet women. In the middle of the week, business was slightly slower, and it was a great place to come for a quick drink.

      Lifting his gaze to the television set above the bar that was broadcasting the day’s sports highlights, Justin waited for his chance to order. He’d drink to getting his life back. Tomorrow, his nineteen-year-old-sister Andrea would leave for a prestigious cooking school in Europe. His obligation would be fulfilled.

      When his parents had been killed in a boating accident shortly after his twenty-second birthday, Justin had taken on the unexpected responsibility of raising his two sisters. A decade older than Andrea, with Lisa in the middle, he’d made a lot of unplanned changes to his young bachelor life to set a good example and supplement the life insurance settlement to provide for his sisters. He loved them both dearly, but over the years, whenever the situation had been especially stressful, he’d repeatedly vowed that as soon as he had the house to himself, he would make up for lost time.

      That started tomorrow. Lisa was in a co-op program at Auburn, with a job lined up after next year’s graduation, and now Andy was headed abroad.

      A woman shuffling a round plastic tray jostled him. “Hey, handsome. Don’t usually see you in here so late.”

      He smiled at the blond waitress—Natalie, if he recalled correctly. “I had something to celebrate.”

      “You’ll be here all night if you wait on Kurt.” She nodded to the other side of the room where the bartender was taking his time mixing a drink for an attractive patron. “Have a seat in my section, and I’ll bring something over.”

      Justin asked for a draft beer, then chose an empty booth against the wall. His future loomed promising and new, devoid of helping anyone with homework, having awkward discussions about dating or attending sports events and milestone ceremonies that their parents should have been here to see.

      Natalie sauntered up to his table with a full frosty mug. “So what are we celebrating?”

      The freedom to walk around at home stark naked if he felt like it, the freedom not to worry that he was a lousy day-to-day role model. “New job.”

      Freelance photography hadn’t been dependable enough for a man raising two sisters and the travel that had excited him became an obstacle. He’d taken a job in design at Hilliard, but had jumped at the chance to join Sweet Nothings now that they were expanding. On-staff photographers were costly, and Justin, though his portfolio displayed his talent, lacked the experience other candidates could have used to negotiate more money.

      “Good for you,” Natalie congratulated him. “Drink’s on the house, then.”

      “You don’t have to do that,” he said, knowing “on the house” probably meant out of her pocket.

      “Honey, you’d be surprised what I pull down in tips. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a good-looking woman,” she said with a grin.

      “Trust me, I noticed. I’m guessing your boss would object to your sharing a drink with me right now…maybe another time?”

      “Ah, but see, that my boyfriend would object to.”

      “Boyfriend, huh?” He lifted the mug. “Then I’m no longer celebrating. I’m officially drowning my sorrows.”

      She laughed. “Beer’s nice and multipurpose that way. Don’t worry, a guy who looks like you won’t be lonely long. You never know,” she added before moving toward the next table, “maybe you’ll meet someone at this new job.”

      Olivia Lockhart’s face came to mind, but he banished it immediately. Never gonna happen. Despite finding their way to friendlier ground in the breakroom yesterday and chatting amiably in the parking garage this morning, he still couldn’t imagine Olivia agreeing to meet him for drinks. She’d find a polite way to turn him down, then avoid him around the office.

      “Hey, buddy.” Bryan Tanner, rumpled and grinning as ever, slid in on the other side of the booth, making quick eye contact with Natalie as she passed.

      Justin nodded in greeting. “What’s with the lumberjack look?”

      His dark-haired friend didn’t truly look like a lumberjack, but the flannel shirt and unshaven stubble along his jaw invited taunting. Heckling each other unofficially cemented their friendship, and since Bryan so often won by default of actually having a life, Justin took his shots where he could get them.

      “Go ahead, make fun if you want,” Bryan said with a sly smile, “but the ladies love the casual look.”

      The ladies obviously loved something because Justin’s friend never hurt for dates.

      Bryan did lucrative contract work setting up network systems all over the country, but between jobs, he roosted in Atlanta. While