The kid was too smart for his own good, his eyes catching on something Rick had accidentally left out. “Dude, what are these?”

Rick grabbed for the stack of index cards he’d left on the coffee table next to his wallet and phone, but Diego was faster than he was.

“Compliment her appearance?” Diego turned over the card and read the other side. “No politics or religion?” He dropped down to the couch, laughing so hard, tears streamed down his face. “This is the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen.”

A second, somewhat offended growl escaped Rick’s throat. “I haven’t been on a dinner date in a while.”

“You can’t walk into a restaurant with a stack of cheat cards.”

“It’s better than staring at her and saying nothing. And I’m not going to bring them,” Rick added, reaching for the cards again. “I’m just studying them.”

“Like this is a test? Wow, you’re pathetic. Here, try it out on me.”

“I’m not using a card on you. You’re my nephew.”

Diego smirked. “And I’m not dealing with you dragging your sorry ass back in here after you crash and burn. Compliment me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Glare for glare, neither one of them backed down. Finally, Rick groaned. The kid had a point.

“Fine, but you can’t make fun of me.” Rick dropped on the other end of the couch, the notecards in his lap. Diego sat there, waiting. And waiting. And waiting some more.

“Are you seriously not going to say anything to me?”

“This is weird,” Rick grumbled.

Diego rolled his eyes from beneath his baseball cap. “Tell me you like my hair or some shit.”

“I can’t see your hair.”

“Fine. Tell me you like my shoes.” Diego kicked his dirty tennis shoes up on the coffee table. The part of Rick that appreciated his coffee table not being covered in a day’s worth of mud and snow grimaced. Diego waggled his toes pointedly.

“I don’t like your shoes. They’re disgusting. Buy some new ones. And I’m not practicing lying to her.”

“Then find something you do like about me.” Diego waited while Rick thought about it. “Really? It’s not that hard, asshole.”

“It’s not that easy.” Rick couldn’t help but grin at the deeply offended expression on Diego’s face.

“Whatever, man. I don’t need this. Enjoy blowing it.”

Still, Diego sat there while Rick fiddled with the stack of cards.

“You’re loyal.” Rick didn’t look at the kid as he stared out the window. “When Jen left, I thought you would go with her. Real glad that you stayed.”

Diego cleared his throat, as uncomfortable receiving a compliment as he was giving them. “Aunt Jen didn’t appreciate you the way she should have.”

Rick opened his mouth to defend his ex, but Diego grunted sourly, cutting him off.

“You put up with a lot from me when you could have sent me to the state. Every lie I told you, every time I snuck out. All the fights I got into. You never kicked me out, even though I deserved it.”

“You were hurting,” Rick said quietly. “You’d lost a lot. You didn’t need to lose more.”

Diego didn’t answer, because they never talked about that. The car accident that had taken his family—including Jen’s sister, Diego’s mother—was a topic permanently off-limits.

Instead, he cleared his throat, and Rick continued to stare out the window until whatever Diego was feeling had been shoved as deep inside as the kid could force it. Rubbing a rough hand over his eyes, like maybe he’d had an itch to scratch, Diego leaned over and took the cards from Rick. He slouched down in the couch a little more as he read the top card.

“What are three topics you shouldn’t bring up?” Diego asked.

“Politics, religion, and exes.” Rick had been studying.

“Three topics you should bring up?”

“Her job, her interests, her future dreams and endeavors.”

Making a face, Diego said, “That sounds awful.”

Rick stood. “Yeah, but she’s awfully pretty. I’m going to have to wing the rest of these. I need to go pick her up.”

Diego didn’t wish him luck, but Rick didn’t expect him to. It was enough to know that if this went bad, there would be a bowl of cereal waiting for him when he limped back home. He’d cleaned his car, filled it with gas, and double-checked the oil and antifreeze. He’d showered, shaved, and done his best not to look like an idiot. The only thing left was not to be late. The rest…well…he didn’t know. Rick wasn’t good with this kind of thing, and he never had been. Lana Montgomery was about to realize how big of a mistake she’d made asking him out. Climbing into the driver’s seat, Rick started the engine and then sat there, hands gripping the steering wheel.

“You can do this. Her name is Lana,” Rick repeated to himself. “Just Lana.”

* * *

Lana had learned early the way to hold the power in a room was to know exactly the outfit everyone else would be wearing and then wear something a touch more. In a room where everyone had their hair up, wear her hair down. In a room of two-inch heels, have two-and-a-half-inch heels. Order champagne when everyone else drank wine. Decline the champagne when everyone else was drinking it and sip a scotch on the rocks instead.

In a world of pencils, have a pen.

The problem with her upbringing was the one-upmanship wasn’t a rule, it was a way of life. But Lana hadn’t been on a date in years with a man she liked anywhere close to as much as she liked Rick. In an effort to make herself perfect for this date, she was second-guessing everything.

“While I understand the need to bring in reinforcements,” Zoey said as she applied Lana’s eyeliner, “I’m not sure I count.”

“Nonsense. I have absolutely no business holding any sort of beauty product. I’m liable to poke my eye out, and then where would I be?”

“The most beautiful woman I know in an eye patch.”

Not for the first time, Lana wondered if Zoey had any clue how talented she was as a makeup artist. Tonight was important to Lana, so she’d requested the use of the resort’s salon. Under the professional lighting of the beautician’s station and with full use of all Lana’s beauty supplies, Zoey was putting Lana into passable shape. More than passable if she knew her friend. A rock steady hand with liquid eyeliner was Zoey’s superpower.

Really, it was beyond her why Zoey didn’t do this for a living instead of giving tours. Probably because tours were what Zoey loved. Makeup was only something she did.

Lana didn’t know what that was like. She’d been raised that what she did was who she was. And who she was was a businesswoman.

“I should have studied marine biology,” Lana mused. “I might have liked swimming with dolphins for a living.”

Zoey moved onto her lower lids. “Random comment of the night number four. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were nervous.”

“I’m going out with a man who I like very much, one who absolutely deserves better than my lifestyle and relationship timetable. One who likes me despite my accidentally grazing him—”

“Shooting him.”

“It was definitely a graze. And because a tattooed woman with a helicopter told me I shouldn’t ask him out, I marched right up to him and did it anyway. Either tonight will go badly, in which we will both end up disappointed, or tonight will go wonderfully, in which we’ll both end up disappointed. I’m scared to death,” Lana said under her breath.

“I was wondering what pushed you into saying something. You never could resist a challenge.” Lana couldn’t open her eyes, but she could hear her friend’s amusement. “You know you’re going to make that poor man’s eyes fall out, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“The dress. The heels.”

“Is it too much?” Lana risked Zoey’s handiwork by opening her eyes and glancing down at herself in concern. “Honestly, he gave me very little to go on.”

“He’ll be in jeans. I don’t know if he owns anything else.”

“Maybe this is too much.” She glanced down again, brow furrowing deeply enough that she could feel the lines. “Is the dress too dark for winter?”

“Fret with your eyes closed,” Zoey encouraged her. “Or you’re not going to be ready in time.”

“Wouldn’t that be the perfect social faux pas to start the night?”

“Lana, this is Rick. He’s a nice, sweet man. I think that’s why everyone’s so worried about him. He’s kind of…a duckling.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Ducklings are really good with other ducklings, but when they’re alone, anyone with a heart is going to want to protect him.”

They had both been very good at ignoring the figure in the corner, but at Zoey’s comment, the third wheel in the room snickered. “If Rick heard you describe him as a duckling, he’d never get over the shame.”

“Hush, Graham,” Zoey said. “No one is listening to you right now. Open your eyes, Lana, and look up.”

“Is there a reason you brought him?” Lana asked her friend, dutifully following her directions.

“The brat brought himself. Graham, be useful and tell us what you think of Lana’s dress.”

Lana couldn’t see his face, but she could hear Graham’s voice, only half joking when he answered. “I think two more dresses worth of material and she might have something she won’t freeze in.”

“Graham.”

“The dress looks fine. L already knows she looks fine.”

“It looks great.” Zoey shook her head. “Ignore him.”

“What do you think? Is this a terrible decision?” Lana asked Graham.