“Don’t you have a nice, discreet credit card tucked away somewhere?”

“In my business, it’s all about the flash.” He flashed a hundred-dollar bill and tossed it on the table.

“I’m only mentioning it because, as I think I told you, image consultation is part of my business.” She hesitated, knowing she had to tread carefully. “For some women…women of a certain upbringing…obvious displays ofwealth can be a little off-putting.”

“Believe me, they’re not off-putting to twenty-one-year-old kids who’ve grown up with food stamps.”

“I see your point, but—”

“Got it. Money clip for business, credit card for courtship.” He slipped the object under discussion back into his pocket.

She’d basically accused him of vulgarity, but instead of being offended, he seemed to have filed the information away as dispassionately as if she’d given him tomorrow’s weather report. She considered his flawless table manners, the way he dressed, his knowledge of food and wine. Clearly these things had all been part of his curriculum, right along with torts and constitutional law. Exactly who was Heath Champion, and why was she beginning to like him so much?

She pleated her cocktail napkin. “So…about your real name…?”

“I already told you. Campione.”

“I did some research. Your middle initial is D.”

“Which stands for none of your damned business.”

“Something bad then.”

“Horrifying,” he said dryly. “Look, Annabelle, I grew up in a trailer park. Not a nice mobile home park—that would have been paradise. These heaps weren’t good enough for scrap. The neighbors were addicts, thieves, people who’d gotten lost in the system. My bedroom looked out over a junkyard. I lost my mother in a car accident when I was four. My old man was a decent guy when he wasn’t drunk, but that wasn’t very often. I earned everything I have, and I’m proud of that. I don’t hide where I came from. That dented metal sign on my office wall, the one that says BEAU VISTA, used to hang on a post not far from our door. I keep it as a reminder of how far I’ve come. But beyond that, my business is mine, and yours is doing what I tell you. Got it?”

“Jeez, all I did was ask your middle name.”

“Don’t ask again.”

“Desdemona?”

But he refused to entertain her, and she ended up staring at his back as he headed for the kitchen to pay his respects to Mama.

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I want you in the clubs every night,” Portia announced to her staff the next morning. Ramon, Sienna’s bartender, had awakened her at midnight with the disturbing news about Annabelle Granger’s success with her latest match, and she hadn’t been able to fall back to sleep. She couldn’t get past the feeling that another important client was slipping away from her. “Pass out your business cards,” she told Kiki and Briana, along with Diana, the girl she’d hired to replace SuSu. “Pick up phone numbers. You know the routine.”

“We’ve done that,” Briana said.