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  Tess sat rigid with fury. “I still want to kill him. He’s going to hurt her. I don’t care about his damn backbone. I still want to kill him.”

  “Well, you can’t,” Nick said. “You’re in a public place. Control yourself. People are watching.” He met her eyes and relented. “He didn’t call her, did he?” he asked gently. “She called him. I’m not saying that makes it right, but Gina got the job and called him and said let’s celebrate and he said sure.”

  “Oh, damn it.” Tess blinked back tears. “I knew she shouldn’t have called him. She’s just so crazy about him she’s transparent with it. She just couldn’t wait.” She pushed Nick away gently and stood up. “All right, I won’t kill him in public. I’ll call Gina tomorrow and see what I can do. Maybe if I introduce her to one of the guys from the Foundation…”

  “Tess, you can’t fix everything for everybody,” Nick said, but his voice was sympathetic as he put his arm around her. “And this is between Park and Gina. It’s none of your—our—business. Come on, we’ll make this short so you don’t have to look at him for very long.”

  “I want him dead,” Tess said.

  “I know,” Nick said. “Try not to act on that.”

  The high point of drinks with Park and Corinne the brunette came for Tess when Corinne mentioned the amusing little gallery they’d had coffee in the night before. The night Park had told Gina they’d go out to celebrate her new job. Going out two nights in a row, Gina had marveled. Poor Gina. Stood up two nights in a row. All the lousy things Tess had ever said about Park came back to haunt her because they weren’t lousy enough.

  She glared at Park, who looked at her with equal parts of fear and confusion and immediately suggested to Corinne that they’d better be going.

  “I want him dead,” Tess repeated to Nick when they were alone, and Nick said, “I know. I know.”

  Dinner with the Siglers was only a slight improvement, although Tess was so despondent over Gina that she was actually polite and nonconfrontational.

  “You behaved very well tonight,” Nick said to her when they were on their way home. “The Siglers were impressed. I think Tricia is ready to forgive you for the roll fight.” When Tess didn’t answer, he glanced over at her. “Are you all right?”

  “Gina,” Tess said. “She’s probably sobbing into her pillow right now.”

  “Do you want to drop by?” Nick said. “I’ll wait if you need to be with her.”

  “No,” Tess said. “Gina doesn’t like crying in front of people. I’ll wait until tomorrow when she’s cried out, and then I’ll do something.” God knows what, she thought and slumped back into the leather of Nick’s car seat while he drove her home in quiet, secure luxury.

  THE NEXT DAY, Tess bought a five-pound box of hand-dipped chocolates and went to see Gina at work. She asked for Gina at the receptionist’s desk, a walnut edifice that went well with the grimy marble floors and wainscoted walls and the wooden receptionist, who looked upholstered in her tapestry suit.

  “Would this be theater-related?” the woman asked, staring suspiciously at Tess through horn-rimmed glasses. Tess was obviously not the sort of clientele she was looking for.

  “It definitely has dramatic potential,” Tess replied, and the receptionist waved her to a door down the hall, craning her neck to watch her go.

  At Gina’s door, Tess took a deep breath and then went in, smiling, determined to raise Gina from the pit of despair.

  “Tess!” Gina beamed and leapt to her feet and came tripping out to greet Tess, throwing her arms around her and hugging tight. “This is my office! Isn’t it great? Isn’t life wonderful?”

  “Absolutely,” Tess said, refiguring the pit-of-despair part of her plan.

  “Candy?” Gina said, spotting the huge box.

  “Uh, it’s an office-warming gift.”

  “Just like Park,” Gina said happily. “He sent flowers. Look!”

  Park had indeed sent flowers. A dozen red roses bloomed on the desk, a dozen pink roses glowed on the filing cabinet, a dozen white roses and a dozen yellow roses crowded the worktable, and a dozen peach roses graced the bookcase, each in its own crystal vase.

  “He said he didn’t know my favorite color, so he sent them all. He said I could just throw out the ones I didn’t like,” Gina said, surveying her luxurious garden with pleasure. “I told him I loved everything he gave me.”

  “Oh,” Tess said, sinking into a chair.

  “We had dinner at this little Greek place the night before last, to celebrate,” Gina babbled on. “And he held my hand. Can you imagine? It was so romantic.”

  “The night before last?” Tess asked in disbelief. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” Gina said. “It was late because he had to work late, but that just meant we were the only people there. It was so private and so romantic—”

  “Late,” Tess said. “How late?”

  “He picked me up at ten-thirty,” Gina said. “And then last night, he didn’t get to my place until eleven, and he wanted to go out, but I talked him into staying in.” Gina got a dreamily lascivious look in her eye.

  “Last night?” Tess said, now really confused. Then the look in Gina’s eye hit her. “Oh, no, you didn’t?”

  “It was wonderful,” Gina said, dropping into her chair. “He’s an absolute gentleman, even in bed.”

  “Great,” Tess said, but she thought, Great, he cheats on her and he’s boring in bed. I am going to kill him.

  “He is so sweet to me, Tess,” Gina said. “And he’s so much fun. And I feel so good around him.”

  “Great,” Tess said. The correct thing to do was probably tell Gina about Corinne, but she couldn’t do it. Gina was too happy. She was just going to have to kill Park slowly, using her bare hands, and then Gina could mourn her loss without being humiliated by betrayal. “Great,” Tess said again.

  The receptionist poked her head in the door, radiating superior disapproval. “You’ve left your intercom off again, Miss DaCosta.”

  Much to Tess’s surprise, Gina didn’t cringe. She just leaned over and flipped a switch on the intercom. “There you go, Pamela,” she said.

  Pamela sniffed. “Call on three.”

  “Who is it?” Gina asked.

  “I don’t know,” Pamela said, staring insolently at Gina.

  Gina stared her down.

  Pamela sniffed again and said, “I’ll ask,” and then slammed the door shut.

  “Hello,” Tess said, amazed. “What was that? Gina DaCosta the Terminator?”

  “Park taught me that,” Gina said, grinning. “He met her yesterday when he picked me up for lunch, and he told me she was going to make my life hell unless I handled her. Then he spent the lunch coaching me on handling her. You wouldn’t believe what a great impression he does of her.”

  “Lunch, too,” Tess said.

  “I told you. He’s wonderful.”

  Pamela stuck her head back in the door. “It’s Mr. Patterson,” she hissed, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “You’re keeping Mr. Patterson waiting.”

  “Thank you, Pamela,” Gina said. “But next time, use the intercom.”

  “Oh,” Pamela said. “Right.” She backed out the door, closing it quietly this time.

  “You are not a nice person,” Tess told Gina. “Keep up the good work.”

  But Gina was already on the phone, beaming as she listened to Park.

  “I can’t stand this,” Tess muttered. She waved to Gina as she got up to leave, stopping only to liberate two dark-chocolate turtles from the box of candy as she went.

  She left the rest of the five pounds of chocolate for Gina. She was going to need it.

  DINNER WITH the Pattersons was not amusing.

  Tess had never liked The Levee. She wasn’t sure whether it was because all the waiters looked like Donny Osmond and acted like Prince Philip, or if it was because the decor was faux mint marble and real peach linen, or if it was because the menu read like a bad Martha Stewart spe