Nothing could have been better designed to set Laura off. She could see it now, perfectly, and wondered how she’d missed the master plan.

Her temper hitched, but she controlled it.

“Is that part of your little plot? To give the country club set an eyeful of poor Laura and her escort?”

“When the escort looks like Michael.” Margo waved an impatient hand. “Oh, lighten up, Laura. It’s only one evening out of your life, and why shouldn’t you spend part of it with a good-looking man? God knows, you’ve been hiding out long enough.”

“Hiding out.” There was that hitch again. “Is that what you call it?”

“Don’t.” Regretting her choice of words, Margo put a hand on Laura’s arm. “I just meant that you’ve been so focused on work and responsibility, you haven’t let yourself have much fun. So have some. Ask him to dance, take a walk, whatever, before he and Byron bond like Siamese twins over engine talk.”

“I don’t want to dance, or take a walk with Michael,” Laura said evenly. Now she felt pathetic. The homely younger sister, the neglected wallflower, the pitiable ex-wife. “And I’m relieved that he’s found something to salvage his evening. He’s been miserably bored.”

“Then you haven’t been doing your job, have you?” Irritated herself, Margo inclined her head. “It wouldn’t hurt you to be friendly to the man, Laura. In fact, it would be good for you and everyone in close proximity to you if you had a nice hot bout of sex with him and popped your own frustration cork.”

Laura’s calm gray eyes turned to steel. “Oh, really? I hadn’t realized that those in close proximity were so affected by my lifestyle.”

“Hey.” Recognizing the signs of a battle in progress, Kate sidled up. “Are we fighting?”

“Laura’s peeved because we made her come here with Michael tonight.”

“I like Mick.” Kate chose an olive from her tiny plate and popped it into her mouth. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m peeved,” Laura returned, emphasizing the word, “because Margo apparently thinks I should jump into bed with him so that she and my other friends don’t have to put up with my sexual frustration.”

Kate glanced around to where Michael and Byron and Josh stood. “Couldn’t hurt,” she said with a shrug. “If I wasn’t a happily married woman I’d consider it myself.”

“That’s nice for you, isn’t it? For both of you happily married women. Christ, I hope I wasn’t ever so smug.” Training overcame temper just enough that she managed to walk away instead of stalking.

“Wrong buttons,” Kate muttered. “We definitely pushed the wrong buttons.”