Page 33 of Hot to Trot

"Don't you think I've done enough damage? Trying to stop your wedding and handcuffing myself to the flagpole is probably enough drama to last a lifetime."

"When you put it like that..." Rayne said in a teasing voice.

Scarlet pushed into her sister with her shoulder. Rayne pushed back. It only took a moment for them both to start smiling. Then Rayne laughed. And Scarlet could do nothing else but join in, falling back onto the bed, knocking half the pile of wadded-up clothing onto the floor.

Rayne shoved the suitcase to the foot of the bed and joined her. "The fan needs dusting."

"If you keep it turning, no one will notice."

"Only you would think like that."

Scarlet shrugged and yanked one of Rayne's curls. "So I'm lazy."

"No, you're not," Rayne said, jerking her hair from her sister's grasp. "But you could use a shower."

Scarlet lifted one arm and sniffed. "I don't stink."

"But you don't smell good."

Scarlet couldn't be insulted. After all, Rayne had taught her how to shave her legs and use tampons. Wasn't much sisters didn't share. She sat up and reached for her toiletry bag. "Okay, shower it is."

"Where's your necklace?"

"Huh?" Scarlet said, kicking off her flip-flops and pulling the top she'd been wearing for more than twenty-four hours over her head.

"That necklace with the golden shoe. You're not wearing it. What is that thing anyway? Some kind of jewelry for a cause?"

Scarlet shook her head. "No cause. And it's not important."

A small wrinkle appeared between Rayne's cinnamon eyes. She opened her mouth, then shut it, something that seemed to be becoming a habit with her. She was a smart older sister. Always had been. "Okay, I'll fix you lunch. I'm sure you didn't get breakfast."

But she had. The officer on duty when she woke this morning had dug around in the break room for a good ten minutes before returning with an overripe banana and a package of cheese crackers. He'd paired it with a Tab soda. She didn't know they still made Tab. "No goat cheese, right?"

Her sister spun and grinned. Rayne was so feminine and pretty, not exactly the opposite of Scarlet, but a gentler version. Rayne's face was softer, her frame slighter, her carriage ladylike. Scarlet was, well, supersize in a sexy way. This she knew, this she used to her advantage.

Rayne saluted and left the room as Scarlet's cell phone vibrated on the dresser where she'd left it the day before. She left it behind often, a bad habit for an actor.

She glanced at the caller ID. It was her agent. "Hey, Bert. What's up?"

"Making quite the splash, aren't we?" Bertie said, his British accent more pronounced than usual. A fake British accent. She'd learned from a tipsy, withered socialite at a charity function that Bert had been born and raised on the Jersey Shore, but he did a helluva good northern British accent.

"I try."

“As much as I love the way you create sensation, I’d rather you scoot your rather gorgeous behind over to L.A. asap. I’ve got you a read next Thursday.''

"With who?"

"Sparrow."

"Shut up!" She sat down on the bed. Hard. "Tell me Ryan Reynolds is lead."

"Male lead hasn't been cast. This isn’t lead for you, but substantial enough to get some buzz. You've already gotten notice withDeep Shadows.Strike while the iron is hot, love. I pulled a string or two, but the casting director thinks you're ideal."

"What movie? What part?"

''Angel Dust.And your role is a bisexual prostitute."

“Bisexual prostitute? They have those?" Talk about a meaty role. Working with David Sparrow would be phenomenal. His films made people sit up and take notice. In a big way. Even a small part could fling her career in a whole new direction. A direction dreamed about by nearly every actor pounding the pavement for roles or smiling winningly while scrubbing out the ring around the collar in commercials.

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