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  In order to secure not only the future of Hotel Liaison, but that of the Elysium Society as well, Irina had used a portion of the funds generated from selling land recently restored to her family in Serbia. Now the society would always have a home and no one could usurp it. Few knew the whole story of its rebirth, but all present waited to find out the next phase of the society.

  Seraphina used a fork to tap her cup lightly, and the room quieted. She smiled at the gathering of women who had pledged to make the world a safer place in which to live. For that was their charge: all issues that related to the status of women. The difference between their organization and others was the fact that, except for the façade they were creating, its work was secret, and sometimes it might involve risk.

  Her voice was commanding and easy to hear. “We welcome you to this meeting. We have been diligently working on reestablishing the structure of the Elysium Society while the hotel has been nearing completion. You see before you our dream come true.”

  The appreciative hum produced a smile on Laurel’s and Stef’s faces, and Kate’s, too. She knew how many eighteen-hour days Laurel and Stef had put into the project. It certainly appeared worth it. This hotel was perfect for women, and it wouldn’t take long for word to get around. Stef had told her that if all went well, it could be self-sustaining within two years.

  Seraphina continued. “Each of you filled out an extensive questionnaire about your skills, interests, training, and connections. Our committees and projects will need your expertise, and we will take advantage of it. Some of the projects will provide new experiences for you, and you will learn a great deal about yourselves as you tackle them. Everyone has the right to turn them down, but please consider carefully before you do.”

  She turned to Irina Castic, who was sitting to her left. Seraphina was tall and robust, and Irina was her opposite. She was small, with delicate bones, her face exquisitely structured. Kate would have cast her as royalty without a second thought. She smiled at the thought because, as it turned out, Irina was royalty. She’d had a difficult life but now she was reunited with Seraphina, and they would spend their remaining years together. She looked radiant.

  Kate’s eyes welled up, and she pulled her thoughts back to the meeting, chastising herself for being such a complete romantic. She glanced away from Irina and caught Dasher’s concerned gaze. Confused for a second, she realized that Dasher had seen her tears and thought something was wrong.

  Reflexively she grinned and gave an embarrassed shake of her head, looking back at Irina as she started to speak. She didn’t hear a word, though. Her thoughts centered on the expression on Dasher’s face. She seemed genuinely worried. Kate couldn’t remember anyone but Laurel bothering to notice her sad moments, except perhaps to tell her to dial it up or down, depending on the scene. But she did recall that fact about her brief meetings with Dasher five years before and, recently, at the gym. Dasher cared. Did Dasher treat all women with such tenderness?

  Seraphina had finished her presentation, and Irina was talking about the projects Elysium was thinking of taking on. “The first, and probably the most public, will be the Elysium Foundation. We will be awarding grants to projects that promote women: our history, our dreams, our concerns. We will also give educational grants to individuals who show high potential and a desire to help others learn. We’ll need volunteers to help guide this committee and make selections.”

  Several hands shot up and Irina looked at Laurel, who held up a clipboard and said, “I’ll pass around the sign-up sheets after Irina is through.”

  Irina continued. “We have several initial grants to announce. First, a full scholarship to the university of her choice, to Miss Ember Jones. Ember was my roommate for a bit and has worked very hard to build this hotel. Ember, please stand.”

  Ember rose—tall, blond, and lovely, blushing deeply, seemingly embarrassed at the attention. Kate had seen her around the hotel, mostly in the company of Irina and Seraphina, and also assisting the designer of the interior of the hotel. Yesterday she’d been at the front desk when Kate checked in. Kate thought she was Irina’s grandchild, but Laurel said they weren’t related.

  The group applauded and Kate noticed that Jock Reynolds, the general contractor for the renovation of the hotel, and Denny Phelps, Stef’s business partner, gave Ember a whistle and applauded louder than the rest. Ember sat down quickly and they gave her a few high fives.

  “Next, a full scholarship to the law school of her choice, we’re hoping Hastings or Stanford Law to keep her close, to Agnes Brady, without whom Hotel Liaison might not be here, and I would not have been reunited with my Seraphina. Although several men promised to block her acceptance no matter where she applied, the deans who are members of this society will make sure she’s welcomed with open arms.” A big round of applause sounded for Agnes, the loudest by a tall lanky woman named Lefty Lebowski, Agnes’s love. Kate still wasn’t sure if Lefty talked. All she did around Kate was blush and trip over things. Kate had a lot of fans, male and female, who behaved the same way, and she always found it endearing.

  After the list was completed a few moments later, it took a minute for everyone to settle down again. Kate peeked at Dasher, only to find her chatting with Ember, probably congratulating her on her scholarship. Or hitting on her. Cynicism was alive and well in Kate’s world.

  “Now, last on our list, for the moment, is a pet project that we have long thought of but never considered possible. I have memories of starvation and hardship when I was young and World War Two was raging. Often, women were last, if we were lucky enough to have the government even consider us. We were there to service the men and children. Men because we were told to, children because we wanted to.”

  Kate could feel the anticipation in the room. “We want to find and establish a property outside the city. We want it to be self-sustaining, ‘off the grid,’ as my younger friends say. A location to which women can turn should times be hard for us. It will be connected to others that will be established in the future.”

  Kate was amazed at the constant innovation of these women. She’d never thought of something like that.

  Irina followed by saying, “We need a committee to search for locations.” With a sweet smile, she continued. “Several have already volunteered to be on it, no matter what, and we thank them. Any of you who have suggestions for locations, please provide them. And we need a few more volunteers. You don’t need any experience in real estate, but some familiarity with farming or camping would help. We’ll have experts to advise us once we’ve secured the location.”

  A sinking feeling in Kate’s gut told her she was among the no-matter-what volunteers, and the glimmer in Laurel’s eye confirmed her suspicion. Oh, no. She definitely wasn’t an outdoorsy kind of woman. No room service was her idea of roughing it. She immediately began to dream up excuses. Oh dear, my schedule is too booked. Oh gosh, my knee is killing me. I have to fly to Spain for a shoot just when we’d be going on the trip. When did you say it was?

  Realizing that she’d committed herself and seeing the huge grin on Laurel’s face, she knew she’d just have to hope for some five-star hotels nearby wherever they searched. She knew there was a reason she never volunteered.

  Laurel stood and announced, “When the clipboard reaches you, please sign under the committee that strikes your interest. If none appeal, suggest something that does and we’ll tap you eventually, don’t worry.” The appreciative laughter told Kate that all there were willing when the time came.

  Watching Laurel shake hands and exchange hugs as she worked her way toward her, Kate felt a slight uneasiness when Dasher asked for the clipboard and wrote her name on one of the committees. She was busy talking to that Stryker woman and her gorgeous partner, so didn’t seem to pay too much attention to the page itself.

  Reasoning that Dasher probably signed up for the scholarship committee, she took a few breaths to calm down. No way would that woman want to get dirty schlepping around the woods. Her
suits were hand tailored and the short nails on her strong hands manicured perfectly. She probably felt the same way Kate did, except Kate had boxed herself in. Wouldn’t you know?

  *

  That night Kate had dinner with Stef, Laurel, Denny, and Jock in the newly refurbished gourmet café run by Sika Phelps, Denny’s mother. Jock had chosen the perfect wine, and they were all feeling mellow by the time the late-harvest Zinfandel was served after dessert. Kate was resting her knee on a chair next to her and feeling less pain than usual.

  Denny asked, “Say, who’s on that new search committee? I want to be, but I’m sure I’ll be here until after we open the hotel. Jock?”

  Holding up both hands, Jock said, “Don’t look at me. I’d be shot if I deserted the troops this close to completion. And, Stef? Don’t even think about going anywhere or I’ll chain you to your desk and only trot you out when the building inspectors show up. I don’t think Laurel would like that.”

  Stef grinned, and Kate noticed how red her blush was. She guessed that the lovebirds were as busy at night and early in the morning with each other as they were all day with the hotel. She chose to ignore her flash of envy.

  “Yeah, maybe once the site is secured, I can help. Laur, you could take a weekend if you wanted.”

  Stef’s voice had a faint whine, which told Kate that she would truly miss Laurel. But Kate appreciated Stef’s willingness to let her and Laurel spend some time together. They seemed to get closer each time Kate visited, and Kate had begun to enjoy their growing intimacy more than she ever thought she would.

  Laurel gave Stef a loving look, as if she knew how much Stef would miss her. Shit, Kate thought. It was obvious that Laurel would rather stay here with Stef than leave town with the committee. Maybe if Laurel bowed out, Kate could do so too, though she’d hate to disappoint Laurel after she’d spent so much time and energy persuading Kate to volunteer for the committee.

  “Hon, we promised,” Laurel said. “Maybe we can push back the date to after the opening, but we both need to help. Besides, Kate would be crushed, right, Kate?”

  Mustering up her best smile, Kate gritted her teeth and said, “Right, sis. Devastated.”

  From the sound of things, Kate would be doing the site surveys by herself. Oh, well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. Now if Dasher and that Greta woman would just finish their meal and leave the café, she could relax and not have to concentrate so hard to avoid looking in their direction.

  As it was, she knew each course they’d eaten and had missed most of the conversations at her own table because she was trying so hard to hear what Greta and Dasher were talking about. They seemed very relaxed, like friends.

  Kate couldn’t help but compare their apparent ease with each other with her own relationship with Joe Alder. She had to force herself to be civil to the man. When she woke up in the hospital after her injury she vividly recalled him screaming at some poor nurse and then firing one of her bodyguards for apparently allowing a fan into her room. He was such an ass.

  Finally, much to Kate’s relief, Dasher and Greta left, waving to their table as they exited the dining room. Greta was a beauty, in a very distinctive way. Kate was sure Dasher didn’t pressure her into constant cosmetic surgery to make her look like everyone else.

  She forced her attention away from Dasher and Greta and back to the table. Stefanie was saying, “Okay, the photo shoot is scheduled for eight thirty. Kate, if you could be down by eight for makeup, we can wrap it pretty quickly. Is that okay?”

  “Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. Not a problem.” It certainly wouldn’t be a problem, since Kate would be avoiding the workout facility like the proverbial plague.

  Chapter Four

  Dasher stared at the ceiling the next morning as the light in her room gradually grew brighter. She’d been awake for a while but couldn’t dredge up enough energy to get out of bed. Maybe if she’d pulled the blackout drapes closed she would have gotten some sleep.

  What a stupid mistake to eat dinner in the hotel last night. What was she thinking?

  Greta had talked her into it because she’d heard good things and wanted to try it out. Even though Greta’s own fame was on the rise, all the famous women she’d seen arriving for the meeting had left her a bit starstruck. She admired Kate Hoffman a lot, but Kate refused to be more than polite, and only to Greta. She ignored Dasher completely.

  Dash hated to admit it, but that bugged her. After five years she should be immune to Kate’s rudeness, but she wasn’t. So what? Wasn’t that just business as usual in Hollywood? She had thought Kate was someone who cared, but she turned out to be just like most of the other shallow, self-serving…damn.

  That wasn’t true. Most folks in her industry were hardworking, wonderful people, with some dramatic exceptions. The truth was, five years ago Dasher had fallen for Kate Hoffman. From the moment they met, and no matter how hard Dasher tried, no one else could measure up to Kate. For a few blinks Dasher convinced herself that Kate returned the feeling. What a fool she’d been. And yesterday morning—

  A knock on the door pulled her back to the room and told her it was time to get on with the day and save the recriminations for another sleepless night. Tossing on some sweats and noting how quickly room service had arrived, she opened the door to see Stefanie, smiling at her with big doe eyes.

  “Stef?” She looked behind her and saw a small service table. “Are you doubling as the delivery person? Wow, this is personal attention.”

  Still grinning, Stefanie hopped around to push the table into the room. “No, your order will be up soon. I just thought we could have coffee together and chat a bit. Haven’t seen you in so long, you know?” She set up the coffee service, complete with a French-press carafe, on the table in front of the couch. She was fussing a lot.

  “Stefanie. I’ve never known you to wait on anyone. Or be nervous. Is something wrong?”

  Stefanie straightened abruptly, blushing. “I, ah, have a favor to ask.”

  Without thinking, Dasher said, “Sure. Anything for you.” When the words were out of her mouth, she realized that normally that would be true, but with Kate Hoffman on the premises…uh-oh. Stef wasn’t blind. She’d probably noticed the tension between them.

  With some trepidation she asked, “What do you need?”

  Stefanie blurted without preamble, “We have a photo shoot this morning using Kate and my brother for the advertising to promote the opening of the hotel and the other model was a no-show and we can’t replace her and you’re the only one that could fit into the clothes and look decent and you’re just what we need and I hate to ask but we really are desperate and we’re paying a fortune for the whole setup and…” Finally she paused to gasp for air and Dasher held up her hand.

  “Me? Model? I don’t have experience and would feel stupid in a dress. Have Laurel do it. They’d look great together.”

  “We’re planning to take some photos of them. It’s another shot we’re looking for.”

  “Then Greta. Wait, she’s probably already left with her friends. Why me?” Dasher was feeling a bit panicky.

  “Well, the clothes. They’d fit you perfectly. And…and…” Stef was now addressing the coffee cups, hands behind her back.

  “And what?” Dash was quiet. She’d seen the look before and knew Stef was deciding how to spin this.

  “We need someone who isn’t all frilly, you know? Someone darker to contrast with Kate’s blondeness. Someone who will appeal to a broader range of women. Someone—”

  “Butch.”

  “Laurel used the word ‘androgynous’ and I thought of you.” Judging from the expression on her face, Stefanie was trying to sell this as a plus, and when Dasher thought about it, she couldn’t argue. She had never been a classically feminine child or woman. Wearing a dress ranked below picking up a dead rat with her bare hands on her queas-o-meter, and she wasn’t much on wearing makeup. She almost nodded until she remembered with whom she’d be spending time.

 
; “You want me to be in a photo shoot with Kate Hoffman. Who evidently hates my guts. Does she know about this?”

  From Stef’s refusal to meet her eyes, she guessed the answer was no. Dasher’s jaw muscles tightened, something that was becoming a habit around Kate Hoffman. “When did you intend to tell her?”

  The air went out of Stefanie, and she drooped into the chair next to the couch. “We just found out. We thought we’d get your agreement, and then when you showed up it would be too late for Kate to pitch a diva-fit in front of the photographer and my brother Jason. Laurel swears Kate wouldn’t do that, but I don’t know her. She might.”

  Stef got to her feet and shuffled to the door. She looked so pitiful Dasher couldn’t help herself. “Wait. I’ll do it. What the hell, it’s only for an hour or so, right? I can endure Kate Hoffman for that long.” More accurately, the question was probably how long Kate could endure Dasher.

  The transformation in Stefanie gave her whiplash. “Really? Thanks! This is great.” She flew to the food cart and suddenly produced several hangers’ worth of clothes covered with a zipped bag sporting a designer label and tossed it on the couch.

  Flinging open the door, she said, “Enjoy your breakfast, on the house, of course, and be down for makeup in an hour.” With that, she was gone. It wasn’t even seven a.m.

  Dasher stood there, trying to figure out what had just happened. More importantly, she was trying to figure out why she wasn’t angry. Judging from the drunk moths fluttering in her stomach, she was excited.

  She watched the city wake up outside her window as she sipped her coffee, deep in thought.

  *

  The bustle in the lounge portion of the hotel lobby had drawn a small crowd of onlookers. Lights, cameras, and furniture were being rearranged, and power cords were run and taped down to keep anyone from tripping.

  Laurel and Stefanie stood to the side, Laurel nervously shifting from one foot to the other while Stefanie repeatedly glanced first at her watch, then toward the elevators.