The Love Laws Read online

  "I do believe that you may just be exactly that." Cathy raised her cup in a salute.

  Jamie clicked her own cup against Cathy’s.

  Unable to help resist temptation a moment longer Jamie reached across the table and took a generous pinch of Cathy’s muffin. Chewing thoughtfully, her mind began processing all the mistakes women typically made when trying to attract men. She had a daunting task ahead of her – she loved giving advice and felt she had a real knack for it, but writing? Not her thing. She wasn’t a huge brainiac like her sister.

  But if Cathy could take a chance and leave her comfort zone far behind then why couldn’t she? She could pretend to be a writer if doing so could possibly save her store. She just hoped no one called her bluff.

  Chapter Four

  Love Law #1 – Men are visual creatures.

  Basically, that’s just a polite way of saying they get off on looking at hot chicks. But there's more to it than that. They respond on a primal level to a woman who takes care of themselves because they’re self-centred and assume we’re making the effort to attract them. Being well-groomed is like an advertisement for availability. Not that married women don’t take care of themselves, but the belief is that many women become less diligent about their clothes, makeup and bodies after they settle down. Is this a stereotype? Yup. Is it superficial? You bet. But if you want to attract a man, you can’t expect him to be drawn to your beautiful soul if the packaging looks like crap. So, dump the sweat pants and hit the gym occasionally. Wear shoes that are comfortable, but also make your legs look fantastic. Don’t go crazy and wear evening gowns to the supermarket. You'll look like you're trying too hard and the smell of desperation is way more repulsive than the cheapest drug store perfume. The objective isn’t to impress with designer labels, dragon-lady fingernails, or ripped abs. Guys don’t care about that as much as we do anyway. Be tidy, be stylish. Take pride in yourself and know that you've made an effort to look your best every single time you walk out the door. Wear lingerie because it makes you feel sexy as hell, not because you want to show it to someone. You’ll be surprised how far self-confidence will take you with men and, more importantly, in life.

  “You cannot be serious about this?” Jessica Martin asked her twin, incredulity evident in every line of her slim body as she threw the sheet of newsprint down on the table.

  The two red-headed women were sitting in a large booth in Steamworks, a popular pub in the Gastown section of Vancouver. Jessica’s new husband, Duncan, was currently at the bar retrieving their drink order from the sexy barmaid. His devoted standard poodle, Hannibal, trotted at his side.

  Jamie had taken this opportunity alone with Jessica to show her sister an early proof of the first edition of The Love Laws. Jamie wasn’t, however, quite ready to hear Duncan’s perspective on Cathy’s article. Given Duncan’s rather protective nature he would definitely not approve.

  “What? You don’t like the pictures?” Jamie feigned puzzlement and pulled the long sheet of paper to her side of the table. She furrowed her brow and examined the full body shot of her, leaning over an iron railing while modeling one of her more provocative lingerie designs. Her long hair was tousled and she looked coquettishly at the camera, like she had a naughty secret she couldn’t wait to reveal.

  It was a sexy, eye-catching photograph, but her own critical eye was drawn to all the areas of her body that she would prefer kept safely camouflaged. Cathy had assured her that she looked incredible, but all Jamie could see was her slightly rounded stomach and thick waist. On some level, she knew these flaws were mostly in her head, but after years spent as a performer it was hard to look at herself without comparing her current body to how it had been just a year ago.

  Body image aside, Jamie was happy with how Cathy’s idea had blossomed. Originally, Jamie had wanted to be completely anonymous. After all, the last thing she wanted was to draw attention to her former sex kitten status and forfeit the respect she felt she’d gained as a business owner and designer. But complete anonymity wouldn’t benefit the store, so they’d compromised.

  Jessica shook her head in exasperation. “Um…No. Of course I don’t like these pictures. Seeing my sister’s assets on display like this does not thrill me. Especially when her assets strongly resemble my assets. But that’s just one eeny-teeny part of the problem here. You honestly don’t see why I’m upset?”

  “On display? Hardly. You can’t even see my nipps! I wore way less at The Club.” Jamie exclaimed as she shredded a paper napkin.

  “Don’t remind me.” Jessica muttered.

  “And no. I don’t see the problem. I’m mostly covered and these articles will be great publicity for the store. Didn’t Clay tell you about this?”

  “He told me you were going to be doing some kind of advice column. That’s bad enough. I had no idea you were going to be sharing your harebrained, female chauvinistic theories with the world while modeling your lingerie designs. This is crazy. You’re going to have an army of stalkers panting outside our stores. Duncan is going to have to quit his job and do security to keep the perverts in line.”

  Jamie rolled her eyes. “That’s a complete exaggeration. I’m using my stage name and the address of the store isn’t even provided. Cathy just mentioned in my introduction bio that I’m a lingerie designer and former exotic dancer. It’s otherwise completely anonymous. I don’t even claim to be the designer for that particular outfit.”

  Jessica yanked the sheet of paper back towards her and pointed to the bottom of the article. “Jamie. It says, ‘Lingerie provided by Hidden Treasures Inc.,’ right here. It’s inferred. Any deviant with a computer and internet access is going to be able to find your store. And from what I know about sickos, they ALL have computers and internet access and know how to use both items in truly creepy fashion.”

  Jamie checked her lipstick in her reflection in one of the brass railings across the back of the booth. “That’s kind of the idea.”

  “What? You want to provide a treasure map so the dregs of humanity can find you?”

  “No. I want potential customers to find me. If they take the trouble to look up Hidden Treasures online then they’ll come across my website. It’s perfect. I haven’t had the money to mass produce my designs on the scale necessary to allow people to shop for them online, but at least they’ll be able to see some pictures and locate us.”

  “So, why not use a more modest photo? You could do the same thing in a nice, full-length satin nightgown. Is a black corset and stockings with most of your bottom hanging out really necessary? Is that the message you want to project to prospective buyers?”

  Jamie crossed her arms and glared at her sister. “Absolutely. If I want to advertise my designs and create buzz around the articles then why would I pose in a paper sack? Sex sells. You know that. And need I remind you that Hidden Treasures is on the brink of disaster? This may be my last chance to promote it, so I refuse to go halfway.” Jamie said with complete conviction.

  “You’ve lost your ever-lovin’ mind,” Jessica said with a mournful shake of her head.

  Jamie ignored this comment. “Besides, I may never get another chance,” she whispered as Duncan approached. She gave Jessica a warning look and grabbed the article, stuffing it in her briefcase just as her brother-in-law set her Lemon Drop Martini down in front of her.

  “What’s going on?” Duncan asked as he slid into the booth beside his wife. Usually Jessica cuddled into his side the second he came within cuddling distance, but tonight she was too busy glaring at Jamie to notice him. He set her tall glass down in front of her and took a sip from his own beer, waiting for the drama to begin. He wasn’t disappointed.

  “Nothing.” Jamie said quickly, giving Duncan a brittle smile. “Mrs. Groinhold here doesn’t approve of my advertising methods. As usual, she thinks she knows better. Typical control freak behavior. But I’m sure she means well.” She tossed her hair. “Let’s talk about something else. How’s work, Dunc? Arrest any poor, defensele
ss prostitutes lately?” She took a fortifying sip of her drink and ignored her sister’s squawk of indignation.

  “Jamie.” Jessica hissed. “Duncan does not arrest prostitutes. He works in the Sex Crimes Division. Not Vice. He protects women and children from the creeps of the world. You know that. So quit trying to change the subject by starting an argument. This is not about my control freak tendencies. This is about your usual risky, thoughtless behavior. I thought you’d matured over the past year, but apparently I was wrong. You’re still as impulsive as ever. And this proves it.”

  Jamie threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “Oh Jeez. Not this again. I thought this lecture had been retired. Do we really need to rehash my sordid past? Again?”

  Jessica had the grace to look chagrined for about two seconds. “Fine. You’re right. I won’t bring up the exotic dancing again. But I suppose it hasn’t occurred to you how this series of articles will affect me? We’re twins and my store is right next to yours. You’ll be writing about controversial ideas accompanied by provocative photos. Does that seem smart? Safe? What if you attract a bunch of unhinged admirers? You can bet that the pervert overflow is going to end up lurking around my store. The very place that was destroyed by a stalker just last year, remember?”

  Jamie fought the impulse to gulp. She really hadn’t thought of that at all. She was willing to take a chance with her own safety, but risking her sister was not acceptable. Especially considering the fact that Jessica had been attacked in her bookstore not that long ago.

  At Duncan’s insistence the risk to Jessica’s safety had been mitigated. He’d ensured that his wife never worked alone and a state-of-the-art security system had been installed immediately after the assault. At this point, the actual danger to her sister’s personal safety was minimal. Jessica was exaggerating to make a point, as usual.

  “Of course, this is all about you and your precious store. My success couldn’t possibly compare with that.” Jamie drawled, looking down at her long, painted nails with a deceptively bored expression on her face.

  Duncan had heard enough. The truth was that he wasn’t Jamie’s biggest fan. In his opinion, Jessica spent entirely too much time worrying about her sister, and he resented Jamie’s innate selfishness. He really tried not to interfere between the two women, but Jamie’s sarcastic comment was so blatantly unjust that he couldn’t help defending his wife.

  He set his beer down, hard, and leaned forward. “Jamie. You know that’s a pile of shit.” His wife put a placating hand on his arm, but he forged on despite the warning squeeze on his bicep. “Jessica would do anything to make you happy. I don’t know exactly what you two are all bent out of shape over, but if I know her, she’s just trying to give you some perspective. So maybe you should listen to her instead of acting like a spoiled, stubborn brat.”

  “Whatever.” Jamie said sullenly, sounding very much like a teenager with attitude, even to her own ears. “What you two seem to be forgetting is that I’ve sunk everything into this store. Including my inheritance and my savings. Not to mention two years out of my life. If I don’t do something big to save it, then it’s all going to be for nothing. I’ll be back at the Kitty-Kat faster than you can say ‘hairball.’” Her voice broke and then she was looking away, trying to hide her suddenly streaming eyes. “But now I’m too big and too old to be a headliner. So I’ll be waitressing. Or possibly even bartending if my thunder thighs are too unsightly to be seen by the customers.”

  Jessica and Duncan looked at each other in shock. Jamie rarely displayed any vulnerability, let alone actual tears. She was obviously a lot more upset than she let on.

  Jessica was sliding around the booth to her sister’s side in a flash, and Duncan was awkwardly gathering paper napkins and holding them out to his sister-in-law. Even Hannibal started whining from his perch under the table.

  “Oh my goodness. Is that what this is all about?” Jessica asked, slipping an arm around Jamie’s shoulder and pressing her forehead against her sister’s bright hair. “Going back to dancing? Because you know you won’t have to do that. You could work at the bookstore while I’m off. Forever if you want. Or you could market your designs independently to department stores. Or you could figure something else out. Working at that awful place is NOT your only option.”

  Jamie fought the urge to fling her sister’s arm away. Jessica was sweet, but she had no clue what she was saying. It wasn’t the thought of going back to dancing that bothered Jamie at all. She had enjoyed her stint at the Kitty Kat Lounge and didn’t have Jessica’s judgmental attitude towards the job at all. It was losing her store that was bothering Jamie. She was on the brink of failure and having to admit that she’d made a huge mistake when she’d sunk all her resources into Hidden Treasures. This was a very hard pill for her to swallow. Her pride and her ego felt like she’d put them both through the shredder.

  Jessica, on the other hand, had never failed at anything. She didn’t know what it was like to find out that her very best wasn’t good enough to succeed. She’d always gotten exactly what she wanted. Their parent’s favour, the job she wanted, even her store was a modest success due to the lucrative filming contract she’d negotiated with a prominent studio. Now she even had the perfect man. Everything seemed so easy for her twin. It wasn’t Jessie’s fault, but she was completely incapable of comprehending Jamie’s current dilemma

  Instead of ungraciously rejecting her sister’s job offer in no uncertain terms, Jamie grabbed the napkins Duncan offered and pressed them to her hot face. Then something in her head clicked and she looked at Jessica’s drink. It was a milkshake. Her sister always drank coffee.

  “Off? What do you mean? When you’re off?” She asked, looking at Jessica in puzzlement.

  Jessica and Duncan just beamed sweetly at each other for a moment, and then realization dawned on Jamie.

  “No way! Clay and I are going to be Aunts? You’re preggers?” She squealed, grabbing her sister in a bear hug, she bounced up and down in her seat.

  Jessica nodded energetically and bounced with her, squeezing her twin right back. Annoyance was forgotten in the face of her momentous news.

  Duncan looked on in bemusement as his wife and her sister laughed together. He was still somewhat unnerved at their volatile relationship. It never failed to amaze him how they could swing so effortlessly from anger to laughter to tears in a heartbeat. They were so different personality-wise, and yet in this they truly were identical.

  He didn’t quite get it, but there was no denying that the two women shared a very special bond. No matter how much he resented Jamie; there was no denying that the two women cared for each other, deeply. For his wife he would ignore his sister-in-law’s selfishness, but someday he sincerely hoped that she would grow up and learn that the world did not actually revolve around her.

  “What are we celebrating? And can I get in on that?” A deep voice asked, just as Jamie reached over the table to press a congratulatory smacking kiss on Duncan’s hard cheek. She had to kneel on the bench seat to reach across, causing her form-fitting skirt to hike up, revealing most of her long, smooth thighs.

  As gracefully as possible, Jamie yanked her hem down a few modest inches and turned towards the figure looming over their table. She very nearly did a double-take. It was Kevin. There was no mistaking that tall, broad frame and rich voice. But he didn’t look good. Well, actually he looked mouth-wateringly gorgeous, but rough. Like he hadn’t slept, eaten or shaved in about a week.

  The carefree surfer had disappeared and the man who had taken his place was obviously troubled, almost haunted. Kevin’s golden tan was mostly gone, and the skin under his eyes looked bruised and swollen. His bright topaz eyes were washed out and dull. Worst of all, he seemed thin. The black leather motorcycle jacket hung from his massive shoulders and the navy blue T-shirt underneath looked rumpled, like he’d either slept in it or picked it out of the laundry hamper.

  But that wicked smile was still intact. And some of the
dullness in his eyes sharpened and crystalized as he watched her sink back into her seat.

  “Well?” He asked.

  “What?” She snapped back. She’d been so busy taking inventory of the changes in his appearance she’d completely missed his question.

  Kevin winked at her and set six full shooter glasses down on the table with a clink. Then he turned his attention briefly to Duncan. The two friends bumped fists companionably. “Hey, thanks for inviting me out, Man. I could use the distraction. You have no idea. Latest project is a bear with hemorrhoids.” He waved at Jessica who gave him a small smile as she slid back to her spot across the table next to Duncan.

  “Charming,” Jamie muttered, taking another dainty sip of her drink. She knew the polite thing to do would be to slide over and make room for Duncan’s friend, but the last thing she wanted was Kevin’s big, warm body, and sinewy thigh pressed against her for the next hour or so. So she stayed put and stared out the window past Duncan’s head, pretending to admire the view of the harbour.

  She should have known that Kevin wouldn’t take the hint. Next thing she knew she was sliding across the seat. Duncan’s Neanderthal friend was pushing gently on her hip and thigh with his large, firm hands, propelling her effortlessly across the smooth leather, completely against her will.

  “What are you doing?” She squealed, slapping uselessly at his hands.

  “What does it look like, Angel? I need a seat and the best one in the house is right here. Next to you. ” He slid in, crowding her between his bulky shoulder and the corner of the booth. She glared at him but his smile just became wider and more annoying as he ran his palm down her thigh in a gesture that should have been soothing, but sent Jamie’s pulse rioting out of control. Could this cave man actually be turning her on? Apparently so.

  She moved several inches away and was not entirely surprised when he closed the distance between them again. Despite herself, she felt the beginnings of a smile tugging at her lips. He was just so arrogant and infuriating. But he was also incredibly male and so very hot. She couldn’t help being a tad amused at his overconfidence.