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  “I’m against you using Sophie for sex,” Wes said. “I like her. Also, I think she’s dangerous as long as Stephen’s got this movie thing going. Besides, she has a boyfriend back in Cincy. Amy says he’s a big-shot therapist.”

  Phin took his eyes off Sophie to frown at Wes. “That was a real hot conversation you had with Amy. Conversations like that will get you in the sack about in time for Y3K.”

  “Amy also said that, based on what Sophie tells her, the guy is extremely boring in bed. So you might be able to talk her into the naked part, but it would be a really stupid thing to do since she’s going to leave tomorrow.”

  “Since when did you become the Chastity Patrol?”

  “I like Sophie,” Wes said. “Do not seduce and abandon her or I’ll arrest you for something.”

  “Police brutality,” Phin said. “Which reminds me, if I get lucky with Sophie, can I borrow some handcuffs?”

  “You’ve still got the last ones you borrowed. Phin, I’m not kidding. Sophie deserves more than your hit-and-run, and Stephen’s too damn pleased that you’ve been out there twice. Just stay away from her.”

  “Hey,” Amy said, as she bounced into the booth beside Wes. “What’s new in crime and government?”

  Phin watched Wes turn toward her, his world a better place. Great, he thought. She’s going to leave and break his fucking heart.

  Across the bar, Rachel was standing, and Sophie looked unhappy.

  “Later for you two,” Phin said to them, and went to see what Sophie needed.

  Half an hour earlier, Frank had sat down across from Sophie, friendly-drunk but not reeling, and said, “So how’s it going?”

  “Just great,” Sophie had said, pretending not to notice Georgia crawling into Zane’s lap beside them. It was difficult because she was also pretending not to notice Phin sitting across the room. She’d planned to play hard-to-get, but if that got her Frank’s conversation and Georgia’s seduction in stereo, she was going to get a lot easier very soon.

  Georgia said loudly, “You really are some man, Zane Black, you really are,” and Frank shrugged at Sophie and gave a little laugh.

  Five minutes, to be polite, and then I’m heading for that booth. “And how’s your life?” Sophie said, trying to make conversation, realizing too late that it was a dumb thing to ask at that particular moment.

  Frank drank some beer. “Oh, pretty good.” He started to peel the label off his bottle. “That’s all I ever wanted anyway. Pretty good.” He let his eyes drift over to Clea at the bar, laughing up at his son.

  “ ‘Pretty good’ ’s not bad,” Sophie agreed, wishing there was someplace she could look that didn’t have evidence that Frank’s life was pretty terrible.

  “You know, growing up, I knew exactly what I wanted,” Frank said, expanding into contemplative used-car salesman mode. “A good job, a nice house, a pretty wife, a son, and two cars, a Jeep and a big luxury car to take the wife places. I had it all planned out by eighteen.”

  “Well, you got that,” Sophie said. “Of course, I’m guessing on the cars.”

  “I got it all,” Frank said. “And it is not a bad life, not at all. Except . . .” He looked over at the bar again and took another swig of beer. Then he leaned forward, and Sophie leaned forward a little, too, to get farther away from Georgia. “Did you ever one day look up and realize you’d been staring at the ground when there was a whole sky on top of you? Just one day, realize that there was more out there than you could have imagined?”

  “No,” Sophie said. She’d always known there was more out there than she could imagine, that was why she was so careful not to look up. Bat country.

  “By the time I was a senior in high school,” Frank said, “I had it all lined up. Even the job with my future father-in-law.” He stopped and stared at the bar. “And then one day there was Clea.” He shook his head. “Sure, she’s beautiful now, but you should have seen her at eighteen, Sophie.” He leaned back. “We were in the school play together, you know.”

  Sophie nodded to be polite, and stole a look at Phin. He was talking to Wes, looking as detached as ever. She wondered if anything ever made him sweat, and then she thought, I could. No matter what Zane thought.

  Frank was still talking. “And after the last performance, she said, ‘Let’s go out to the Tavern, Frank,’ and we sat out in back, with a thousand stars over us, and she said, ‘We could be like that, Frank, we could be stars. We could go to Hollywood.’ ” Frank laughed, a little shamefaced. “Yeah, I know it sounds corny.”

  “Not as much as you’d think,” Sophie said. “Everybody needs dreams.”

  “Yeah, but Hollywood?” Frank leaned forward, serious again. “The thing is, I believed her, Sophie. When I was with her that night, I believed I could make it. I mean, I’m a damn good actor, and I have a really great voice. I might have . . .” He looked back at Clea. “No, I wouldn’t have. She didn’t even make it, really. But, boy, it was a hell of a night. We were going to have it all.”

  “I heard you got it all,” Sophie said.

  Frank looked down at his beer. “She told you that?” He shook his head. “Finest moment of my life when she said, ‘I want it to be you, Frank.’ ”

  Sophie frowned. This story was not the one Clea had told. She let her eyes slide to the booth in the back and saw Phin watching her and her pulse kicked up.

  “You know . . .” Frank looked back at the bar and Clea. “It wouldn’t be so bad if I hadn’t thought, for just that one night, that there was more. You know? If I just hadn’t seen what . . . It’s like losing something you never had. You can’t really be sorry, but you can’t ever really forget it, either. Even when you’ve got everything you ever really knew you could get. Sometimes, it still comes back.”

  “In this case, literally,” Sophie said, looking at Clea, who was flirting with Rob, oblivious to the carnage at the table behind her.

  “Yeah,” Frank said. “I was ready to go to Cincy to make the land deal, but she said she wanted to come here. And I thought . . .” He sighed. “Oh, hell, you know what I thought.” He drained his beer.

  “Yeah,” Sophie said. “I know what you thought.”

  “Dumb,” Frank said. “Jesus, I’m dumb.”

  “Well, human,” Sophie said.

  “No, dumb.” Frank finally looked the other direction, away from Clea and toward Georgia, now hanging all over Zane.

  Sophie opened her mouth to say something comforting, but she couldn’t think of anything. The man’s lost love was at the bar moving on his son, his wife was molesting a TV anchorman, and he was stuck nursing a warm beer in an ugly bar in a creepy little town. About the best thing that could happen to Frank would be a direct hit from an asteroid.

  “We’ll be gone in a week,” she said finally, and Frank said, “That calls for another beer,” and got up.

  Rachel slid into his seat, looking miserable.

  “Are you okay?” Sophie said.

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, I’m great. I’m in Temptation, how bad can it be?” She was trying to come on cool, but she sounded a little shaky.

  “Yeah, I heard you want out of town pretty bad, Rachel,” Zane said, as he leaned toward her across the empty chair between them. “I told you, if there’s anything I can do—”

  Rachel leaned back.

  “Want to trade places with me, Rachel?” Sophie said. “I have Mace.”

  “You wouldn’t need it,” Zane said.

  “What are you talking about?” Georgia nudged Zane with her shoulder and batted her eyes at him. “Go on, now. You were telling me about being a news anchor. I just think that’s so sexy.”

  Zane leaned back and began to talk about the joys of being a celebrity, and Rachel looked even more miserable, so Sophie leaned forward and said, “Okay, what’s wrong?”

  “I want out of this town,” she finally said. “I was lousy at college and I’m not good at anything else, and my mom and dad are hipped on me getting married and livi