I flushed. Bitch. When I was in my zone, I could outtalk her any day.

"Glad to hear it. My Tabby Cat here is nothing if not stimulating."

Oblivious to my horror over my new nickname, Bastien steered her into some pleasant conversation about the creativity of the party and the beauty of her home. Her demeanor warmed up only a bit from what it was with me. She still came off cool and watchful. Maybe she was always chilly around people, and it wasn't just me. In fact, I thought optimistically, this slightly elevated interest in Bastien might indicate that she wanted to throw him up against a wall.

They conversed a bit longer about something I lost interest in, and I tried to stay inconspicuous, though I could tell I never dropped off Dana's radar. She was studying me, trying to figure me out. Finally, Bastien said good-bye, and we began our retreat toward the front door—once I'd changed back to decent clothing, of course. Our exit proved more difficult than expected since apparently it was customary to say good-bye to every single person you passed and get continually delayed by meaningless small talk.

"My God," I exclaimed once we were safely back at his place, "that was annoying."

He turned on me, anger flashing in those movie-star blue eyes. "Are you completely out of your mind?"

"Okay, you're right. I've been in more annoying situations. Remember that marquis' party back in Marseille?"

"That…that getup! When I first saw you two together, Dana looked ready to explode. Thank goodness this body's more flat chested than your other one. It saved you from looking like a complete pinup."

"I'm sorry," I told him. "I was just trying to escape those stamping women and headed for the pool without thinking. I have a suit just like this at home. It was stupid…but I don't really think it caused long-term damage." I hoped.

His expression darkened, and he threw himself into one of the living room's exquisite armchairs. It was covered in white suede. Breathing on it would probably get it dirty.

"I don't know. She was distant with me—you saw it."

"I was hoping that's how she always is. And she was a bit more responsive with you than me," I offered helpfully.

"No. You should have seen her when we spoke earlier tonight. Much friendlier. She definitely clammed up with you around."

"I'm sorry," I said again, feeling idiotic. "I guess I shouldn't take a front-row seat to this after all. I'm cramping your style. Or rather, destroying it."

His stormy expression lingered a bit longer, then disappeared like clouds swept away by wind. That was my Bastien. Quick to anger, quick to love. "No matter, Fleur .Takes a lot more than you to 'destroy my style.'" He patted his lap and grinned. "Come here, sis, and I'll tell you the rest of my brilliant plan."

I rolled my eyes. "Are we that kind of family?"

His smile broadened, and I sat down, unable to resist that goofy charm. He slung his arm around me in an old, familiar way, and I leaned into him. It was nice to have the touch and comfort of another living thing, romantic or not.

"So there's another part of this wacky plan?"

"Not so much another part as an entirely different plan. A backup plan, if you will."

"Oh no. Here it comes."

"Naturally, I'd much rather disgrace Dana in a horizontal kind of way, but in the very unlikely event that doesn't work, there's a much less exciting—yet effective—way to do it. And you're going to help me."

"How so?"

"We're going to break into her house. "

I jerked my head away from him.

"What?"

Bastien didn't miss a beat, obviously amused by my reaction.

"You heard me. We're going to break in. I overheard Bill saying the whole family would be out the night after next."

"And pray tell, how are we going to lead her to scandal through violating her home? By proving to the world that her security system isn't as good as she thought it was?"

He laughed. "No, by rifling through her paperwork and finding some sort of incriminating evidence. Money laundered from the CPFV. Illegal means of carrying out the group's goals. Maybe even love letters from the infamous pool boy. You know there's got to be something."

"Bastien, this is—"

"Ingenious?"

"Ridiculous. Even for us."

"Hardly. Like I said, it's a backup plan. Probably not even necessary, since I suspect she's probably in the shower right now masturbating to fantasies of me."

"Yeah, she sure looked like it back there," I said nastily. "More likely she's sanitizing her pool after my defilement of it. Well, backup or no, you're going to have to do this break-in on your own. "

"Come on! We'll bein visible. Nothing to lose."

"That's not the point. The point is I don't do this kind of thing."

"We're agents of evil. We lead innocents into temptation and suck away their life. How is breaking and entering that much of a leap?"

I tightened my lips and shook my head.

"I thought those broadcasts pissed you off. Don't you want to see her fall?"

"Not enough, apparently."

He fixed me with a sharp stare. "Did you know that the CPFV recently kicked out a woman for leaving her husband? He had been beating her incessantly—sent her to the hospital twice. When she finally got the nerve to walk out on him, Dana condemned her for violating the sanctity of marriage. Said the woman hadn't tried hard enough to make things work."

I groaned. "Don't tell me this stuff."

"So are you in or out?"

"You sure are pushy, you know that?"

He kissed my cheek and hugged me. "I learned from the best."

I went to Doug's concert the following night, showing up about halfway through the opening act's set. I found several of the bookstore staff occupying a corner but saw no sign of Seth yet. Part of me regretted the whole separate-arrival mandate, but then I remembered the part in Seth's story where Genevieve had spanked O'Neill. Suddenly I didn't feel so bad anymore.

While waiting at the bar for a vodka gimlet, a familiar shape slid up next to me.

"Hey, hey, pretty lady."

I flashed a smile at Doug's bass player, Corey. "Hey yourself. You guys ready for this? You're in the big time now."

He returned my smile, eyes alight. Intimidating and fierce looking, he wore a lot of black and had piercings everywhere. He was also one of the nicest guys I knew.

"Hell yeah, we are. We were born for this night. This is the night that's going to define our existence! The night that's going to define existence for everyone in this room!" He extended his hands over his head and whooped with delight, emitting something like a cross between Tarzan and a B movie Apache chief. The silvery glitter of those piercings added to his savage persona.

He was as exuberant as Doug had been the other day. Maybe more so. As much as I wanted to see the band succeed, there was no telling what true fame would do to them. They'd be bouncing off the walls. Setting things on fire.

When I got the gimlet, Corey tugged at my arm. "Come on. I'll give you a sneak peek backstage. You can say hi to Doug."

I glanced back at the corner, saw no sign of Seth, and followed him.

In the dressing room, the rest of the band was in similar form. They all knew me and cheered my arrival, holding up their drinks in a giddy salute. Doug was dressed in a spectacularly gaudy manner, sporting black spandex biker shorts, a Thundercats shirt Seth would have envied, and a sweeping red velour cape. His shoulder-length black hair was tied back in a sleek ponytail. He scooped me up as I entered, hoisting me so that I nearly sat on his shoulder. Min, the group's saxophonist, waved the instrument over his head in barbaric approval at my capture as Doug roared a cry of victory.