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Lilah's List
Robyn Amos
Dating R&B megastar Reggie Martin was number one on Lilah Banks's top-ten list of things she wanted to do before turning thirty. Now the divorced twenty-nine-year-old was finally going for it.But it wasn't Reggie who came to the door when Lilah and her best friend crashed a private party (another item on The List) at a swanky Manhattan dance club. It was his sexy brother, Tyler.Tyler never forgot the sassy sixteen-year-old who'd pined for his younger brother. But nothing prepared him for the grown-up Lilah. Now Tyler was making a wish list of his own. And the first item on his list? Seduce Lilah Banks into falling in love with him….



Lilah’s List
Robyn Amos


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Lilah’s List is for my dear friends Judy Fitzwater and Pat Gagne, and my husband, John Pope. Without them, I never would have gotten through this book.

Contents
Lilah’s List
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue

Lilah’s List
1. Date Reggie Martin


8. Shake hands with someone famous


12. Get a professional makeover
13. Learn to knit


16. Sing at a karaoke bar


19. Eat escargot


21. Visit a fortune-teller


25. Ride a mechanical bull
26. Throw a wild party
27. Get a tattoo
28. Kiss a stranger
29. Ride a motorcycle
30. Crash a party
31. Do something scandalous
32. Protest for a worthy cause
33. Leave a $100 tip


35. Practice a random act of kindness


38. Have multiple orgasms


41. Have 15 minutes of fame
42. Go out in public with no underwear
43. Fly first-class
44. Buy something without reading the price tag
45. Spend an entire day in bed
46. Own an expensive designer dress
47. Drink Cristal champagne straight from the bottle


49. Climb to the top of the Statue of Liberty
50. Ice skate at Rockefeller Center

Chapter 1
Multiple orgasms were among the many things she wasn’t going to get to experience before turning thirty, Lilah Banks decided as she stared at her well-worn pink stationery. She hadn’t seen her list since college graduation in 1999.
That day she’d crossed off fall in love and neatly tucked The List inside her grandmother’s antique jewelry box. The jewelry box had been packed up along with her other college memories and had landed in the attic of the house she’d shared with her husband Chuck.
Until today, that box had remained sealed like Pandora’s box. When Lilah had opened it, all of her unfulfilled hopes and dreams had tumbled out with her American University sweatshirt and a ton of old photos.
Lilah had been a good girl and followed the rules. She’d married her college sweetheart, lost her virginity on her wedding night and perfectly balanced her career in real estate with her duties as a domestic goddess. Yet here she was divorced after only six years of marriage.
She smoothed her hand over The List, studying the handwriting of a sixteen-year-old girl as it transformed into that of a young woman in her twenties.
At sixteen she’d wanted to date Reggie Martin—never happened. At eighteen, rebelling against her goody-two-shoes image, she added visit a nude beach to The List—that did happen: spring break 1997. At twenty, the awakening of her social consciousness, she’d wanted to protest a worthy cause—but never did. And at twenty-one, the awakening of her sexual consciousness, came the thing about multiple orgasms.
Lilah shook her head. A lot of really fun things were still unchecked, and her thirtieth birthday was only three weeks away.
“So much for that.” She dropped The List to the floor and dug back into the box. She pulled out a framed photo of her kissing Chuck at the Kappa Alpha Psi fraternity cookout senior year.
Saving the frame, she tossed the photo into the waste bin at her right. Her world had been so different then.
At this point in her life she’d expected to be preparing for motherhood instead of readjusting to single life. She should have been remodeling their fabulous three-story suburban home instead of unpacking her Georgetown condo after three months of living out of boxes.
The only part of her life that had stayed on track was her career. As a real estate agent she was at the top of her game, making more money than she knew how to spend. But, with her personal life so deep in the trash bin, it was hard to celebrate that success.
She plunged both hands into the box and pulled out the last picture frame. Lilah and her best friend Angie. They were lying on their dorm room floor, staring up into the camera she’d held above their heads. When the two of them were together, they were trouble. Their parents had nicknamed them Lucy and Ethel because of their madcap adventures.
Angie was still Lilah’s best friend, but they’d grown apart since college, and Lilah’s marriage had had a lot to do with that.
After college Angie had moved to New York City to pursue her career as the next big name in fashion. Lilah had been certain she’d be spending a lot of time in the Big Apple visiting Angie, and had added a couple of New York-related items to her list. But, over the years, Chuck had always found reasons for Lilah not to make the trip.
Lilah bit back her rising anger over all the times she’d given in to Chuck’s emotional manipulations. He’d been needy and insecure, and she’d been spineless and desperate to please. What a pair they’d made.
Her gaze dropped back to the two girls in the picture. Feeling a surge of wistfulness, Lilah grabbed her phone and began to dial. It was ten-thirty on a Saturday night, so the odds were strongly against her friend answering, but it had already been too long since they’d last spoken.
“Hello?”
“Angie, I’m so glad you’re there.”
“Lilah?” croaked a weaker version of Angie’s vibrant timbre.
“Did I catch you at a bad time? You sound exhausted.”
“It’s never a bad time to talk to you, but I was running around the city all day looking for platinum buttons. Not gold. Not silver. Platinum—for some diva who doesn’t let any lesser metals touch her skin.”
While she was awaiting her big break, Angie was sewing costumes for an off-Broadway playhouse.
“Aw, honey, I’m sorry to hear you had such a rough day.”
“Don’t worry, as it turns out, Miss Thing doesn’t know the difference between silver and platinum after all.”
Lilah laughed. “You’re so bad.”
“That’s why you love me.”
“Anyway, I was finally unpacking the last of my boxes today, and you’ll never believe what I found.”
“Um, two million dollars’ worth of gold bullion that you’re looking to split with your best friend?”
“I found The List.”
“The List? Fifty things you wanted to do before thirty? Hey, your thirtieth birthday is next month. How far did you get?”
Lilah scanned the sheet, mentally crossing off a couple of things she’d accomplished in the last eight years. “I guess I’m almost halfway through it.”
“November tenth is—” She paused for calculation. “Twenty-one days away. Are you going to try to finish it off?”
Lilah huffed. “Some of these things aren’t even possible anymore. Remember item number one—date Reggie Martin?”
Angie sighed. “Well, that one’s not impossible. Just a bit of a challenge.”
“Ha! Have you listened to your radio lately? Reggie Martin is even more unattainable now than when he was just your average high school stud.”
Reggie Martin was the sole reason Lilah had made The List in the first place. Her father had been giving her some sort of pep talk about how anything was possible if she identified her goals and worked toward them. Sure, he’d been referring to things like college and career, but at the time, Lilah had been obsessed with Reggie Martin.
It had taken a great deal of self-restraint not to write marry Reggie Martin at the top of The List, but she’d decided to stay within the realm of possibility. He was the lean-muscled, baby-faced, track-running, future superstar that she’d tutored in math.
“I don’t know,” Angie argued. “I think we got you pretty close in high school. I had to bake Bobby Carnivelli cookies for two months so he’d let you take over as Reggie’s math tutor. It’s not my fault you were too shy to make the first move.”
For her entire junior and senior year, she and Angie had devised many a plot to get Reggie’s attention, all of which stopped just short of her confessing her undying love. A girl had to have her pride.
“I’m old-fashioned. I prefer the gentleman to do the asking.”
“Old-fashioned, my gluteus maximus. You were just a big, fat chicken.”
“Oh ho. Was I chicken in the sixth grade when I talked LaTonya Richards out of beating you up?”
“Well—”
“And what about the time I convinced a Maryland State Trooper not to give you yet another ticket. The ticket that would have ultimately caused you to lose your license. And—”
“I meant with boys, okay? You’re a big, fat chicken when it comes to boys.”
“Fine. I’ll concede on that point. Which brings us back to the issue at hand. Number one on my list, date Reggie Martin, has gone from unlikely to impossible. He’s a superstar now.”
Reggie had always been a singer. He had a lovely melodic voice and could be found singing on almost any occasion. But no one could have predicted that he’d manage to parlay that into a career. Right now, his first single, “Love Triangle,” was getting heavy rotation on all the air waves.
“He’s not a superstar yet—more like a rising star. It’s not the same as trying to get a date with somebody like…Usher.” Angie was eternally optimistic, which was one of the qualities Lilah missed most about her.
“Yeah, whatever, girl. Keep hitting that crack pipe.”
“Okay, put number one aside for now. What else is left on your list?”
“Eat escargot, ride a mechanical bull, get a tattoo, crash a party—”
“Slow down there, girlfriend. Those are all things you can still do.”
“Angie, I don’t even want a tattoo.”
“That point is moot. Listen…. I have a plan—”
In the past those four words between them would have given her a charge, but Lilah’s mature, twenty-nine-year-old self had learned to avoid trouble at all costs. “No, I have a plan. How about we forget I ever mentioned the stupid list and talk about something else.”
“Not a chance. Here’s what I think—you should come to New York a week before your birthday, and we’ll knock The List out.”
“Remember number one—”
“I said I have a plan.”
“You have a plan to get me a date with the hottest new R&B singer?”
“No, I have a plan to get you a date with an old, high school friend who happens to be a hot new R&B singer.”
“Okay, let’s hear it. This ought to be good.”
“As I see it, we have two viable avenues by which to reach Reggie. One, I read that his older brother Tyler is his business manager, and he lives here in the city. We can try to contact him and enlist his help hooking up with Reggie.”
Lilah remembered Reggie’s older brother well. And she’d always been a tiny bit scared of him. If Reggie were sunshine, Tyler was a thunder cloud—a dark, brooding killjoy. During her tutoring sessions, Reggie had complained rather frequently about how hard his brother rode him. She’d always suspected Tyler was jealous of Reggie’s talent and popularity.
“And the second avenue?”
“Well, you can’t live in New York and work in the fashion industry without being hot-wired into the celebrity grapevine. With his brother managing his business affairs here in the city, odds are he either lives here or frequents the area. I know my contacts can dig up the dirt on his whereabouts. Then it’s just a matter of matching the two of you up in time and space.”
Sure, it sounded straightforward, even plausible, but Lilah knew from experience that their schemes never went according to plan. “Well, I have to hand it to you, Ang, that’s not bad. You certainly haven’t lost your touch.”
“So we’re on?”
“Not. A. Chance.”
“What? Why not?”
“I have to work.”
“I know for a fact you haven’t taken any time off since the divorce. That was a year and a half ago. You must have vacation accrued up to your eyeballs.”
“I just moved. There’s still so much to be done around here.”
“Nothing that can’t wait.”
“It’s just not a good time….”
Angie was silent for a minute. “Wow, I guess your marriage really did crush all the life out of you. You’ve lost your sense of adventure.”
Lilah gasped. That was a low blow. And it hit its mark. She’d been a good girl. She’d played by the rules. It hadn’t made her happy.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been utterly content. Her wedding day? College? She’d gotten so used to the status quo that she didn’t even challenge herself anymore.
Her gaze fell back on The List. Maybe she needed to practice a random act of kindness. Maybe she needed to drink champagne straight from the bottle. She definitely needed to climb to the top of the Statue of Liberty and ice skate in Rockefeller Center. She’d promised her best friend that they’d do those things together.
“Okay, I’m in.”

Over the next week Angie and Lilah talked nearly every day working out the arrangements for her visit. Lilah ended up taking off the entire two weeks before her birthday. After all, she was overdue for a vacation, and she’d need all the time she could get to work her way through The List. She’d booked a first-class flight—scratch that off The List—from D.C. to New York Friday morning.
Angie tapped into the grapevine and discovered that Reggie did, in fact, live in Manhattan. According to Reggie’s bass player’s wife’s hairdresser, he was attending a private party in the Flatiron District Friday night.
“The party’s at some trendy club called Duvet,” Angie informed her the night before. “I ran a Google search and apparently they serve you food and cocktails on these enormous cushion-lined beds.”
“Let’s see—private party, Friday night, trendy club. Sounds like it’ll be hard to get into. We could be waiting outside in the cold for hours—if they let us in at all.”
“Oh, we’ll get in. We have to.”
“And why is that?”
“Because crash a party is on your list.”

Chapter 2
Lilah’s List Blog Entry
October 27, 2007
I made out with a stranger last night. Yes, me, the girl who wears rubber gloves to carry trash cans to the curb, had my lips and tongue completely interlocked with a man I barely know. It’s true, I’ve been in New York one day, and I’ve already succumbed to the debauchery. I wasn’t fazed by the white-knuckle flight, the cab driver with a death wish or the cranky Jamaican bouncer. But put me in a crowded room with a bed that sleeps sixteen and a hot guy, and I completely lose my cool. But before you book me a ticket on the next train to Skankytown, let me explain.

When she’d boarded the plane for New York that morning, Lilah had felt daring. Her blood had pumped with excitement. Whether or not she returned with a tattoo, a designer dress or a date with a celebrity didn’t matter. For two weeks she was going to have fun, spend some much-needed time with her best friend, and live on the edge.
She’d headed for her first-class window seat only to find a gentleman already occupying it. Eventually the stewardess was able to sort out the mixup, but that didn’t keep Lilah from feeling conspicuously like a fraud.
To make matters worse, the plane sat on the tarmac for forty-five minutes while some unexplained mechanical trouble was investigated. Thank goodness the flight was only an hour long, because Lilah white-knuckled it the entire way. So much for first-class—it was lost in a blur of fear and mimosas.
After struggling with her bags and arguing with the taxi driver for trying to make a daring pass into oncoming traffic that had nearly killed them, Lilah finally arrived at the Casablanca Hotel. It was a self-proclaimed oasis in the heart of Times Square. She chose the place because Casablanca was one of her favorite movies. And watching it was one of the first things she was able to cross off The List.
She’d had romantic fantasies of sitting in front of the fireplace in Rick’s Café and listening to “As Time Goes By” on her iPod. Unfortunately she didn’t even take the time to soak in the vibrantly colored Moroccan decor. Instead she flopped down on the king-size bed and slept like the dead all afternoon.
Lilah was just returning to a groggy consciousness when Angie began pounding on her door early that evening. “Take it easy,” Lilah said, opening the door, heedless of her nap-mussed hair and wrinkled T-shirt and jeans.
Angie stood in the doorway, hand on hip, as she looked Lilah up and down. She clicked her tongue. “It’s just as I suspected. So much to do and so little time.”
Lilah blinked at her friend. “I love you, too.”
Then she was swept off her feet as the taller woman lifted her into a bear hug. “I’m so happy you’re finally here. We’re going to have so much fun.”
Angie reached into the hallway for the suitcase she’d brought along, and bounded into the room, filling it with her energy. But Lilah was feeling the opposite of energetic. Her days of staying up late and going out were long in her past. If the truth were told, she could get much more excited about room service and a movie rental than the agenda Angie was laying out for them.
“We have to get to Duvet early, otherwise we’ll never get past the door. But don’t worry, I have a fool-proof plan to get us in.”
“Great,” Lilah said, falling back on the tousled bed sheets.
“Have you been sleeping all day?” It was an accusation.
“Yup,” she answered without remorse. “I could barely sleep last night thinking about this trip. You know, the more I think about The List, the more impossible it seems.”
Angie stopped rummaging through the closet to stare at her. “Since when do we let the impossible stand in our way? Two days before senior prom, when we were doomed to being each other’s dates, it was your idea to storm the University of Maryland campus and ask every cute guy we saw to the prom. You had every girl at Richard Montgomery High School wondering how two nobodies scored dates with hot college boys.”
“Yeah,” Lilah said absently.
“You used to be fearless, remember? You could talk anyone into anything. What happened to you?”
When Lilah looked back on some of the stunts she and Angie had pulled in their youth, it blew her mind. She couldn’t imagine approaching situations with the same reckless abandon she’d once had.
Lilah looked at Angie and shrugged. “What happened to me? I grew up.”
After a few moments of awkward silence, Angie turned her attention back to Lilah’s closet and began throwing her clothes around the room.
“None of these clothes are acceptable for tonight’s activities, and there’s no time for shopping.” Angie walked over to her suitcase and opened it up. “Fortunately for you, I came prepared. It’s an original creation and it will look stunning on you.”
It was a burnt-orange swirly-print cocktail dress with a complicated weaving of spaghetti straps across the back. It stopped just above Lilah’s knees with dainty flair. Lilah studied herself in the mirror. The dress was beautiful, if a bit bold for her taste.
“Good Lord, are those the only shoes you have?” Angie turned up her nose at Lilah’s functional, decidedly nondesigner black pumps.
“I’m afraid so, unless you think my pink Timberlands would work with this look.”
“I guess the pumps are going to have to do. I don’t know how you balance on those tiny pin-pricks you call feet, anyway,” she said with a comical glare that had the two of them bursting into giggles. Angie’s feet were two sizes bigger than Lilah’s—and Angie all but hated her for it.
Lilah piled her light brown hair atop her head in one of those sloppy knots she’d seen in magazines. She was going for an air of elegant maturity. She silently prayed she didn’t look the way she felt—like a little girl playing dress-up.
Physically, Lilah hadn’t changed much since high school. She still got carded on a regular basis. With her clear champagne complexion, no makeup and her honey-brown hair worn loose, she was a dead ringer for sixteen.
It would be a few more years before Lilah felt being mistaken for someone younger could actually be flattering instead of mildly annoying. Her tiny, soft voice did nothing to help matters. That was why Lilah relied on makeup and a severe topknot to force clients to take her seriously. She also tried as hard as possible not to be bubbly.
Angie, on the other hand, epitomized bubbly. Add that to her two-toned Macy Gray fro and funky homemade clothes, and people frequently underestimated her wickedly keen mind.
Angie in her typical statement-making fashion, was wearing a skintight vinyl tube that passed as a dress. With this she wore black leggings and multicolored paint-splattered boots, under a long dark coat straight from The Matrix. With her orange curling Afro frosted at the tips, her hair radiated from her head like rays of sunshine.
“Okay, are you ready to hear my strategy?” Angie asked later as they rode to the Flatiron District in a taxi. The late October night air had just enough bite for them to need overcoats, but it wasn’t cold enough for gloves and scarves yet.
“I can’t wait,” Lilah answered, deflated. She wasn’t looking forward to this adventure. In fact, considering the way her trip had begun, she was convinced this entire outing would be a disaster.
“Listen up, I have a three-tiered plan to get us past the doorman. Phase one, and the least likely to work, we flash our brilliant smiles and sweetly ask to be let in.”
“If that’s unlikely to work, Angie, why is it even part of the plan?”
“Because we’re attractive women—we’re armed with mother nature’s tools. It never hurts to try them out.”
Lilah rolled her eyes. “What’s phase two?”
“We drop the high school connection.”
“What?”
“We tell the bouncer we went to high school with Reggie Martin.”
That gave Lilah a start. She hadn’t seen Reggie since high school graduation. Would he even remember her?
She took a deep breath. Of course he would. She’d spent countless hours in his house for their tutoring sessions. He usually turned up an hour or so after she did, which gave her plenty of time to take in personal details and talk to his family about him.
And he’d been so nice to her. He always made sure she had a ride home with his brother whenever he couldn’t take her himself. He would even confide in her about his family problems.
But what would she say to him after all these years? Suddenly The List sounded so juvenile. Hopefully, he wouldn’t laugh in her face.
“Please tell me phase three is a real winner. Otherwise I suggest we turn this cab around and go have a nice dinner. I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Phase three is a sure thing.”
“I’m listening.”
“Filet mignon.”
“You agree we should go for dinner?”
“No, that’s the code word.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Apparently all bouncers know this code word. It means let us in immediately, we’re very important people.”
“And just where did you get this information?”
She pointed out the window. “Look, we’re almost there.”
“No changing the subject. Where did you hear this?”
Angie sighed. “The Internet.”
Lilah’s spine snapped straight. “Driver!”
Angie grabbed her arm and covered Lilah’s mouth. “Shh. This is going to work. You’ll see.”
Lilah climbed out of the cab, her legs trembling ever so slightly. “This is going to be so humiliating.”
Angie gripped her elbow and started marching her forward. “You know the drill. Say everything with confidence and authority, and you’ll have those bouncers eating out of your hand.”
They approached a tall, dark-skinned man with dreadlocks and a black leather trench coat. “Hi, we’re here for the party,” Angie said brightly.
The man frowned at her. “We don’t open to the public until after midnight tonight. We have a private party going on,” he answered with a thick Jamaican accent.
“That’s right,” Angie continued. “We’re here for the party.”
The man just shook his head.
“We’re meeting our high school friend Reggie here. Reggie Martin.”
The man pointed over Angie’s shoulder to the long line stretching down the block.
“What’s that line for?”
“Dat’s for everyone who wants to be let in after midnight.”
“But it’s only eight-thirty.”
His gaze remained cold.
“By the way,” Angie said finally. “We’re filet mignon.”
The bouncer glared at her. “Really, ’cuz you look more like chopped liver.” He turned to Lilah. “And this one barely looks over eighteen. Don’t try flashing dem fake IDs ’round here. I can spot ’em a mile away.”
“Now wait a minute,” Lilah said, finally finding her voice. “There’s no need to be rude. I realize you probably hear a lot of creative stories from people trying to scam their way into the club. And I’m certain it’s no fun to have people approach you like they own the world and expect to be treated like it. But you don’t look like the kind of gentleman whose mother raised him to disrespect women.”
Lilah resisted the urge to giggle at the look of wide-eyed chagrin on his face. “I…uh…I—”
“Please tell me you’re not giving my friends a hard time,” a deep masculine voice called out behind them.
Lilah froze in place. She knew that voice. It couldn’t be—
She turned and found herself looking up into a pair of deep-brown eyes. He towered over her at six-foot-four and was dressed in a black winter coat over an impeccably tailored, dark suit. His crisp, white shirt was open at the collar.
All of Lilah’s words stuck in her throat.
“Mr. Martin, my apologies,” the bouncer said, opening the rope for them to pass through.

Chapter 3
As he guided the two women past the entryway, Tyler Martin was pleased to have done his good deed for the day.
He hated velvet ropes, bouncers, celebrity parties and all the air kisses and fake smiles that went along with them. Helping these girls get past that thick-necked jerk redeemed some of the self-respect he’d lost profiting from this life.
But, on second glance, Tyler realized that he recognized these women. He’d be hard pressed to remember the name of the tall one with brightly colored hair, but he’d know Lilah Banks anywhere.
It was hard to forget the shy sixteen-year-old who had sat at the kitchen table with him more times than he could count.
“I know you two, don’t I?” He touched Lilah’s arm. “You’re Lilah Banks, right?”
Lilah started. “You know my name? You remember me?”
“Of course, you spent so much time at our house, our housekeeper thought you lived there.”
Lilah laughed nervously and her friend stepped forward. “I’m Angie Snow, Lilah’s best friend.”
“Oh yes,” Tyler said, shaking her hand. “I recognized your face.”
He’d been two years ahead of the girls in school, so he was already in his first semester at the University of Maryland when Lilah started tutoring his brother.
His heart had gone out to her because it had been so obvious that she’d had a huge crush on Reggie. More often than not, she’d been stuck with him because his younger brother had his head in the clouds and rarely showed up for tutoring on time.
When Reggie had shown up, he wasted her time bitching about how hard things were around the house. Hard? The kid had everything handed to him on a silver platter. It was Tyler who picked up the slack. Shopping for food, running errands and driving the tutor home while Reggie played video games in his bedroom.
But, if Reggie was self-centered, he had no one to blame but himself. Their mother was a doctor and their father a lawyer. So, although they always had every new gadget and video game, their parents were rarely home. Vivian Martin didn’t like having strangers raise her kids, so when Tyler was old enough, Reggie became his responsibility.
Thank God he loved the kid. Which wasn’t difficult since Reggie had a witty sense of humor and was genuinely fun to be around. He had an inherent charm that made it easy to forgive his mistakes. They were extremely close, which worked out well since their worlds were so tightly intertwined.
Reggie had a natural gift for music, and Tyler had a natural gift for business. While Reggie wrote songs in the recording studio, it was Tyler’s job to handle the business details, including making sure the accountant, publicist and the rest of the industry didn’t take advantage of his baby brother.
Which brought him to his present situation. He avoided the limelight whenever possible, but he’d come to accept that in this business, important meetings often took place in the VIP lounge of some popular night spot. He now represented several people in the entertainment industry, and tonight Reggie wanted him to meet a potential new client.
Now that he’d gotten them past the doorman, Tyler half expected the girls to float off. Instead they huddled close, with no obvious agenda.
The room—lit with pink, green and orange neon lights showcasing wide decadent beds with drapes and pillows—was buzzing but not packed. He scanned the area for Reggie, but since he didn’t see a crowd of fawning females, he knew Reggie wasn’t in the room.
A DJ pumped mellow dance music through the speakers, loud enough to catch a rhythm but not so loud as to curb conversations.
“Um, you’re probably wondering why you found us trying to crash this party, huh?” Angie started.
“Since you mentioned it…”
“We’re kind of on a mission. Tell him, Lilah.”
Lilah blanched and gave her friend a stunned look.
Tyler tried to break the ice. “Like a scavenger hunt?”
Lilah gulped. “Yeah, sort of. Um, when I was sixteen I made this list of things I wanted to do before I turned thirty.”
Tyler nodded. He was thirty-two, which meant the big three-oh had to be just around the corner for Lilah.
“My birthday’s in two weeks, and I thought it might be nice to finish off The List.”
“And something on your list involves this club?” Tyler couldn’t help noticing that Lilah seemed mortified. He wanted to ease her embarrassment, but he didn’t know how when he didn’t even know what she was trying not to say.
“A couple of things, actually.” She pulled a PDA phone out of her purse and showed him the illuminated screen. “Crash a party and…uh, something else.”
“What’s the other thing?” He couldn’t keep himself from asking.
“It’s actually pretty convenient that we ran into you because it involves your brother Reggie,” Angie said, trying to help Lilah along.
“Ah, I see…” He should have known.
If it were possible, Lilah seemed even more embarrassed. “Keep in mind, I started this list when I was sixteen.” She scrolled her PDA screen and handed him the phone.
Item number one on her list was date Reggie Martin. For some reason that Tyler couldn’t define, his heart sank.
He’d known she’d had a crush on his brother back in high school. He’d even tried to get his brother to acknowledge that fact, but he’d insisted that Tyler was reading too much into the situation.
Lilah rushed to explain herself. “I know it sounds absurd. He probably has a girlfriend or fiancée or something. I just thought, maybe, as a favor to a high school friend, we could have drinks or something. That way I can cross this off my list with minimal intrusion on his life.”
Tyler couldn’t help himself. He threw his head back and laughed. When he saw the hurt expression on her face, he immediately brought himself under control. “I’m sorry. Yes, he’s single. I’m sure some sort of meeting that will qualify as a date won’t be a problem.”
Lilah was visibly relieved and Tyler felt his stomach muscles clench as she asked, “Is he here tonight? We heard that he might be here.”
“Yeah, he’s supposed to meet me here. He’s probably in the VIP area, wherever that might be. Hold on.”
Tyler pulled out his cell phone and punched the speed dial for his brother.
“Yo,” Reggie answered with his standard greeting.
“Where are you? I’m at the club, and I don’t see you.”
“I’m downstairs in the VIP. Come down.”
“Actually, I’m up here with a couple of women who would like to talk to you.”
“Nice. Brother, you work fast. Are they hot?”
Tyler let his gaze slide over to the two women watching him expectantly. He turned his back, feeling heat creep up his neck. “Of course.”
Angie, tall and willowy with her wild explosion of curls, was definitely beautiful, if you liked that funky art-student vibe. Lilah, on the other hand, was petite and curvy with luminous pale skin and honey-colored hair. She hadn’t changed much since high school. In fact, if he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn that she was still in high school.
The only really noticeable changes were her eyes. They no longer held the open invitation he used to see there. Now, they were clearly marked Do Not Disturb. She’d been burned by someone.
But then again, who hadn’t? It was only a matter of time for most people anyway.
“Do you want me to bring them down?”
“Nah, if they’re the clingy type, once they’re in, I’ll never shake them off. I’ll come up. Give me ten.”
“Great. We’ll get a table…er, bed and wait for you.”
He clicked the phone shut and turned back to the girls. “He’ll meet us up here in ten minutes. I’ll see about finding us a spot to hang out.”

Angie shook her shoulder so hard, Lilah thought her arm might fall off. “See, this worked out just like I said it would.”
Lilah snorted. “Not just like you said it would. Besides, it hasn’t ‘worked out’ yet.”
“Come on, what are the odds of Tyler Martin coming to our rescue of all people? For a split second, I actually thought it was Reggie coming up behind us.”
“You’re not the only one.” Lilah decided that it was her state of shock that accounted for her sudden loss of breath at the sight of Tyler.
Her memory of him hadn’t done him justice. She’d gotten the basic stats right in her mind’s eye—tall, dark-skinned, the same chestnut-brown eyes that Reggie had. But the real beauty lay in the details.
He was so much taller than she’d remembered. Sure, she was all of five-foot-two herself, but Tyler seemed to loom in the night like a dark tower in a black overcoat. And his skin was dark, but it glowed like burnished wood—clear and smooth.
And those light-brown eyes were not so much brooding as she’d remembered, but intense. He’d always looked at her as though he could see everything inside her. Like she was emotionally naked before him. It was one of the things that she’d always found so disturbing about him.
She’d never thought of Tyler as handsome—certainly not compared to Reggie. But her memory had gotten that one wrong, too. He was definitely handsome. Not in the smooth-faced, curly lashed, flash-those-pearly-whites way that Reggie was good-looking.
Tyler simply had a face that was well put together. A strong jaw with just the hint of stubble, a nose that was pointed without being too sharp, deep-set eyes and thick lips, and his hair rounded into a tight, business-like fade.
Sexy. The word flashed in her brain and was gone, like a subliminal ad.
“We gotta get some drinks in you,” Angie said, tugging her arm. “You’re so nervous you’re practically catatonic.”
“I’d rather have some food. I’m starving.”
“This place is also a restaurant. I’m sure we can get you something, eventually. The drinks are necessary now. We have to make sure you can actually speak when Reggie gets up here. You’re so stiff, you could be made of cardboard.”
“We can’t leave. Tyler’s coming back for us.”
“Fine. You wait here. I’ll hit the bar. You still like appletinis, right?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Lilah’s mind had already wandered off. In a matter of minutes, she was actually going to be talking to Reggie Martin.
She saw Tyler’s tall, dark form emerge from the crowd. He came to her side, taking her elbow in his hand. Leaning down to her ear, he whispered, “I’m going to take you to bed.”

Chapter 4
Lilah felt Tyler’s breath on her ear as he spoke, and his words registered with a jolt. I’m going to take you to bed.
She jerked back from him, off balance from the unexpected erotic thrill tingling the base of her spine.
Tyler reached out and steadied her with both hands, preventing her from reeling back into a passing waitress with a tray full of drinks.
“I’m so sorry,” Tyler said as she pulled herself together. “I should never have said that. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just trying to be clever. And it was an inappropriate remark.”
“No, no. It was fine,” she tried to reassure him, feeling foolish for getting so flustered. “I can take a joke.”
“Why don’t we go sit down?” He looked around. “Where’s your friend?”
“Angie went to the bar. Will she be able to find us if we get in be—uh, sit down?”
“I’ll make sure she does,” he assured her.
He began steering her toward one of the large beds along the far left of the room. A waitress helped them settle in by tucking their shoes in a drawer below and exchanging them for terry-cloth slippers emblazoned with the word Duvet.
Just as Lilah was awkwardly climbing onto the mattress, Angie arrived with two green apple martinis. Tyler helped Angie juggle the drinks as she took off her boots and joined them on the bed. Lilah and Tyler had checked their coats, but Angie insisted that hers was an integral piece of her ensemble.
Lilah quickly discovered that it was hard to recline comfortably and keep her cocktail dress from riding up. She finally arranged herself into a suitably modest position, wishing desperately that she’d worn pants.
“I’m not sure whose idea this was—” Angie started.
“I know. It’s the worst,” Lilah chimed in.
“—but, I love it,” Angie finished at the same time.
“You don’t like it? I think it’s great.” Angie was propped against the row of cream, satin pillows with her long legs stretched out in front of her. Her long jacket draped her legs.
Tyler looked right at home, too. He was stretched across the bottom of the mattress giving him plenty of room for his legs, as he propped his head on his palm. He would also have a bird’s eye view of Lilah’s underwear if she forgot herself and moved her legs.
“What brings you ladies to New York?”
“I live here,” Angie answered. “I design costumes for a playhouse in Greenwich Village, and Lilah’s just visiting for the next two weeks. We’ve got to check off the rest of her list before November 10th.”
Tyler nodded. “That’s a pretty ambitious task. How many things have you gotten done since you got to New York?”
Lilah chewed her lip. “I flew in this morning, first-class. That was one. And we crashed this party. That was two.”
“So what’s this big soiree for, anyway?” Angie asked, sipping her martini, then placing it back on the clear doughnut-shaped tray for drinks in the center of the bed.
“It’s a corporate launch party for a new men’s cologne called Isosceles.” He pointed toward the center of the room, and Lilah noticed for the first time that there were large pyramid displays of triangular cologne bottles.
“Since Reggie’s single is called ‘Love Triangle’ his publicist thought this would be a good opportunity for some cross promotion.”
Lilah’s heart sped up. “Will Reggie be performing tonight?”
“No. He agreed to make an appearance and sign copies of his single. He convinced a few of his boys to tag along, so I don’t think he’s planning to hang out here long.”
“Damn, sounds like there aren’t going to be a lot of other big celebrities here then?” Angie asked.
“No, I’ve seen a few Broadway actors and radio personalities, but for the most part this crowd is media types and corporate investors. It’s safe to say that Reggie is probably the most famous person here.”
Lilah felt her stomach growl and took a sip of her drink because it was the only thing on the table. “Aren’t they supposed to have food here? Do you think we could get a menu?”
“The waitress told me that the restaurant is closed. They have some cold hors d’oeuvres and sushi, but I think that’s it.”
Lilah wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t in the mood for anything cold. She wanted hot food in healthy portions. Forcing herself to relax, she took another sip of her drink. Reggie would be coming around shortly. After she pleaded her case to him, she and Angie could leave and get a real dinner.
“Are they giving out free samples of that cologne?” Angie wondered out loud. “Those little bottles are cute. I think I’m going to go over there and try to snag one.”
Angie bounced off the bed and through the crowd, leaving Lilah and Tyler alone. Lilah tilted her glass and drained the last of her apple martini.
Her head swam a minute as the drink finally began to work on her empty stomach. Great, the last thing she needed was to be plastered by the time Reggie showed up.
But, on the upside, she was suddenly feeling one hundred percent less anxious than she had been just five minutes earlier. She leveled her gaze at Tyler, who had directed his attention to the plasma screen in the center of the room.
“Do you ever get back to the D.C. area?” she asked.
He turned to face her. “Not often. Our parents still live there, but since Reggie and I both live here, they prefer to come up.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Lilah tucked her feet under her body and leaned forward, smoothing her dress across her knees. “How did you both end up here? Did Reggie come first and you followed him?”
“No, after I graduated from Maryland, I came here to attend law school at Columbia. After trying his hand at a lot of day jobs, Reggie finally gave up and moved up here with me. Eventually he made some connections in the music business and the rest is history.
“I guess you could say I’ve been his business manager all his life, but in the last couple of years, as his career took off, managing his business started taking over my practice. I finally decided to manage him full-time, and recently I started taking on other clients.”
“You both must be doing very well.”
“What about you? You still live in D.C.?”
“Yeah, I just bought a condo in Georgetown.”
“What do you do there?”
“I’m in the real estate business.”
“That’s great. How do you like it?”
“It’s fine.” Her answer came out like a halfhearted sigh.
Suddenly the fact that she was a very successful real estate agent didn’t seem to count for much. Especially when she was surrounded by all these sparkling happy people.
Without thinking, Lilah reached for Angie’s martini and gulped it down.
The fact remained that she was about to be thirty and her life was nowhere near where she’d expected it to be.
Time was bearing down on her like a freight train, and she was stalled on the tracks.
“Tyler?” The warm-colored lights straining through the canopy’s filmy curtains and the effects of the appletinis made her feel like she was in a cocoon. She felt secluded, despite the fact that there were clusters of people on the canopied beds all around them.
“Yes?”
“I’m going to be thirty in two weeks.” Her voice shook with emotion.
He chuckled. “Okay, but you shouldn’t worry about it. You don’t look a day over eighteen.”
She pursed her lips. “Why does everyone think it’s a compliment to say that to me? I’m not a little girl. I’m a woman.” Whew and she was drunk!
Lilah could hear herself and knew she sounded ridiculous, but she was powerless to stop.
“I can see that,” he said huskily. “Trust me, no man in this room could miss that fact.”
Lilah felt her face light up with embarrassment. His gaze had rested on the daring décolletage of her slinky dress. This conversation was definitely headed in the wrong direction.
In fact, it wasn’t just the conversation. She was headed in the wrong direction. Seeing Tyler reclining on the end of the bed, taking her in with his hooded gaze, sent a hot pulse sizzling through her.
In her inebriated state, she was quick to remember just how long it had been since she’d been in proximity of a good-looking man and a bed. She had a sudden, wacky impulse to climb on top of him.
But two drinks hadn’t made her bold enough for that. Her survival instincts were still intact. “Do you think Reggie will notice?”
Tyler straightened into a sitting position. “Of course, in fact, let me find out what’s keeping him.” He took his cell phone out of his jacket. “I need to find a better signal. Be right back.”
Lilah didn’t watch him walk away. The room was spinning. She lay back against the pillows and closed her eyes.

Tyler swore under his breath. Contrary to what many outsiders believed, tonight was the first time in history that Tyler had been jealous of his brother.
As a general rule, he and Reggie weren’t even attracted to the same type of women. It’s not that Reggie was particular. He wasn’t. He liked them all shapes and sizes. On more than one occasion, his younger brother had tried to offer Tyler his leftover groupies. Tyler always refused.
Easy and available wouldn’t do for him. He had a more discriminating eye. They had to be sophisticated, ambitious and intelligent. But he was a man. He liked them sexy with curves, too.
As a result of the brothers’ differing needs, the two never fought over women—or anything else for that matter. Reggie wanted fame. Tyler just wanted success. Reggie wanted to make music. Tyler wanted to make money. They were like yin and yang. Perfect opposites, which made for a balanced relationship between them.
Until now.
For the first time Tyler felt himself coveting something that wasn’t meant for him. Lilah Banks had walked into his life and captured his attention entirely. For the first time that he could remember, he’d been about to indulge in a serious public display of affection. And from the look on Lilah’s face, he was certain she was on the same page.
Only the Martin man that she wanted was his brother.
So be it, Tyler told himself. He wasn’t hard up for dates. He’d been casually seeing an attorney for the past few weeks. The best thing for him now was to find his brother and leave the rest to Lilah.
He no longer wanted to be involved. After finally finding a signal downstairs, outside the bathrooms, Tyler speed-dialed his brother.
“Yo.”
“Where are you? You said you’d be up in ten minutes. You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m just going to bring the girls down to you, okay?”
“Uh, actually, bro, me and the boys are at the 40/40 club. I was just about to call you. Why don’t you grab the girls and meet up with us here?”
“Are you kidding me? You left without telling me? Why would you do that?” Tyler tensed. He was ready to launch into a lecture on wasting other people’s time.
“The boys were getting bored. We had to roll quick so we wouldn’t get caught by the fans. I didn’t have time to come upstairs. The manager let us out the back door.”
“You could have called me. The only reason I’m here tonight is to meet your friend. What happened with that?”
“He’s here. Don’t trip. Just come meet us.”
“No, I’m done for tonight. Later.” Tyler clicked the phone closed before his brother could respond. His anger would ebb quicker if he didn’t have to hear the kid’s voice right now.
Great. Now he had to go back to the girls and tell them they’d crashed this place for nothing. Oh well. He’d done what he could. Now he just wanted to get home and take a shower. Preferably cold.
As Tyler crossed the room, he saw that Angie seemed to be on the receiving end of an intense sales pitch from one of the Isosceles promoters. Climbing the steps to their bed, he froze, taking in Lilah’s prone form.
Sleeping Beauty.
Her face was burrowed into one of the satin pillows and her feet were curled beneath her. Hair slipped out of her up-do to trickle down her neck. For a fleeting second Tyler had the strong urge to curl up beside her and kiss her awake.
He shook it off. He wasn’t Prince Charming in this fairy tale. That role was reserved for someone else.
Moving over to Lilah’s side, Tyler gently lowered his weight onto the bed, careful not to startle her. He leaned over her and softly prodded her shoulder. “Lilah, wake up.”
She murmured under her breath and rolled onto her back. Her eyes fluttered open and she gave him a sleepy smile.
“Lilah, I—”
She grabbed his lapel and jerked him downward. Tyler found himself sprawled across Lilah’s body. Then she kissed him.
Wide-eyed, Tyler remained as still as stone as Lilah’s lips explored his. Feeling his ardor resurface, he groaned in defeat and took over the kiss.
He didn’t believe in public displays of affection, but no man in his right mind could resist this. She was soft and warm, and her lips had the faint tart taste of green apples.
His tongue surged into her mouth, and when he finally broke the kiss, she moaned in protest. “Reggie…”
Tyler’s spine snapped straight and Lilah’s eyes cleared. She was no longer lost in her sleepy alcohol-induced haze. Her eyes were filled with shock and confusion. She opened her mouth to speak….
Slipping his hand behind her neck, he kissed her with persuasive force. He felt Lilah’s arms curl around him as she leaned into his embrace. Finally he pulled back to look into her eyes.
“My name is Tyler. And I don’t want you to ever make that mistake again,” he said just before his lips found hers.

Chapter 5
Lilah was having an out-of-body experience. There was no other explanation for the surreal dimensions her world had taken on.
Her fingers were caressing the ultrasoft skin on the nape of a man she barely knew. And she was loving it. Her mind began to cloud once again as the sensations of his lips working expertly on hers intensified.
Vaguely, in the distance, she knew she should be resisting. Something about the time and place was completely wrong. But logic couldn’t penetrate the fog surrounding her.
“Whoa!”
Tyler released her and her head fell back against the pillows.
Lilah watched the scene unfold as though she were watching a movie. Tyler was sputtering while Angie gaped at them, her arms stacked with three boxes of Isosceles cologne.
“It’s good to see the two of you getting to know each other better.”
They both turned their attention to Lilah. “Are you okay, missy?” Angie asked.
Lilah felt the giggles bubble up from inside her. She pointed a finger at Tyler. “He—he is a good kisser!”
Angie dumped the boxes on the bed. “Okay, she’s drunk. She’s been telling me all night that she needed to eat something, and I should have listened to her. I’d better get her back to the hotel.”
Tyler came to his feet. “I’ll help you get a cab.”
Moments later Lilah felt her shoes being shoved onto her feet. Tyler was standing back, watching her.
She gave him a big smile. “It was so nice sharing a bed with you.”

There’s someone in my bed! Lilah’s mind screamed as she came into consciousness. As the world began to take shape around her, she realized she was lying in her hotel room and the body next to her belonged to Angie. There was no mistaking the soft, gurgling snore she’d endured all through college.
The clock radio on the night table read 1:22 a.m. Lilah sat up straight and a slow, steady throb began at her temple. She trudged to the bathroom for her toiletry case that housed her ibuprofen, and took a swig of water straight from the tap to swallow the pills.
“Oh, what a night,” she whispered, sinking to the floor. A sting of heat rushed her cheeks as she remembered making out with Tyler Martin. “What the hell am I doing?”
She glanced out into her darkened hotel room and wondered, yet again, why she was even there. Lilah’s mind began to fill with thoughts like a tub filling with water. A few moments more and she’d overflow. There was only one outlet for her when that happened.
Using the light from the bathroom, Lilah crept into the room and settled herself at the tiny desk where she’d set up her laptop. After connecting to the Internet, she pulled up her blog.
She’d first discovered online Web journals when she was updating the Web site for her real estate firm. She employed the technology then in hopes of generating repeat traffic to the site. Later, after her divorce, she’d begun a personal blog to cope with her sadness and frustration. To her surprise it had become a therapeutic outlet as other divorced women rallied around her blog until it ultimately evolved into a virtual support group.
She began her Lilah’s List blog before coming to New York. She wanted to have a lasting memory of the experience. Now Lilah wasn’t so sure she’d want to remember it. She was already off to a rocky start.
Feeling her embarrassment rising again, she began to type.

I made out with a stranger last night.

As she channeled the words through her fingers, Lilah was able to release her misgivings. Now it was as though it had happened to someone else, she thought as she completed her entry.

So, while my first day didn’t go quite according to plan, it wasn’t a total loss. I checked a whopping four items off The List!
30. Crash a party. Sure, Lady Luck tossed me a bone in the shape of Reggie Martin’s brother, but at least I had the chance to give that bullying bouncer a piece of my mind.
28. Kiss a stranger. Which must be why I had so little of my mind left when I checked this one off. Tyler Martin wasn’t a perfect stranger. But I hadn’t seen him in over ten years, so I think it qualifies.
31. Do something scandalous. I know it’s not much by most standards, but I think making out with a virtual stranger in public is as scandalous as it gets for me.
43. Fly first-class. Blah. I may have to try this one again to see what it’s like when you’re not paralyzed with fear. But for now, check!

“What are you doing?”
Lilah had been so engrossed in her blogging that the sound of Angie’s groggy voice nearly made her jump out of her skin.
“Nothing.” Lilah hastily closed the laptop.
Angie leaped out of bed and rushed over. “Are you looking at porn?” She opened the screen and read it over her shoulder. “What’s this? I didn’t know you had a blog. I didn’t even know you knew what one was. How come you never told me about this?”
“It’s private.”
Angie stared at her. “Yeah, you only share it with your gazillion closest friends on the World Wide Web.”
“I mean, no one I know in real life knows about my blogs. It’s just my way of sorting through my thoughts.”
Angie turned away and sank down on the bed.
“What?” Lilah asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re still my best friend,” she said softly. “But I don’t feel like I’m yours.”
“What are you talking about? That’s crazy. Of course you’re my best friend.”
“Then why are there so many things in your life you don’t share with me anymore? I know we don’t live in the same state anymore, but we’re both on the east coast. New York is only an hour by plane or three hours by train. I can see if you don’t want to invest in weekly long-distance calls, but if you’re bothering to write down the details of your life in a blog, you could have let me know. I could have kept up-to-date with you that way.”
Lilah was mortified. “I’m so sorry, Ang. I didn’t mean to shut you out. I guess I’m one of those people that when things aren’t going so well, I don’t like to talk about it. I can share it with strangers because they don’t really know me.”
“Ever since the divorce I haven’t known which way was up. And even before then, Chuck required my full attention. I felt like I had an obligation to make my marriage my priority. You see how that worked out. Now, when I look around, I feel like all I have is so much wasted time.”
Lilah moved over to join her friend on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry I haven’t been a good friend to you over the last several years, Angie. I know it’s not good enough. But it’s all I’ve got.”
Angie hugged her. “It’s okay. I just want to remind you that you don’t have to rely on a virtual world of strangers. I’m right here, and I always will be when you need me.”
Lilah hugged her friend back, nearly choking on the emotions welling in her throat. The intense moment was instantly broken when her stomach released a loud groan of hunger.
Angie laughed. “We never did get a proper dinner. I know a burger joint with twenty-four-hour delivery.”
“Really? I love New York.”

Tyler stared unseeing at his computer screen. It was nearly noon on Saturday and he hadn’t gotten much, if any, work done. Weekdays were for meetings and phone calls, but Saturday mornings, he liked to try to catch up on e-mails and light paperwork. Then he could have the rest of the weekend to himself.
But today he couldn’t concentrate at all. His mind kept drifting back to Lilah. He felt like a jerk for taking advantage of a woman who had clearly been intoxicated. He should have pulled away from the kiss immediately, but she’d caught him off guard. But that didn’t give him an excuse.
Tyler smacked his forehead as he did every time the embarrassment came flooding back to him. He could only imagine how she was feeling today.
There was only one way for him to make things up to her. He had to give her what she wanted. A date with Reggie.
If he knew his brother, and he did, Reggie would be in bed until something approaching three o’clock. Then, since he didn’t have any other appearances scheduled for the weekend, he’d hang out in his apartment playing video games until he went out clubbing with his boys around midnight.
That would leave him plenty of room to have dinner with his old, high-school tutor. Tyler expected there would be some protesting, but now the kid owed him one.
Feeling much better now that he had something proactive to do besides mentally replay last night’s embarrassment, Tyler typed the words Casablanca Hotel into his Internet browser.
Tyler had heard Angie name the hotel when he’d hailed a cab for them last night. After dialing the number, he asked to be connected to Lilah’s room.
“Hello?” a sexy, sleep-roughened voiced purred into the phone.
“Lilah? I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
“T-Tyler?”
“Yes.” His stomach muscles clenched at the way she breathed his name.
She cleared her throat, but she still sounded like a phone-sex operator. “No, we were up, but I admit, we haven’t been up long.”
We? Before he could ask the question out loud, she continued.
“Angie and I ended up ordering out in the middle of the night and didn’t get back to bed until after 5:00 a.m.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to disturb your rest, I was just calling to see if the two of you were free for dinner.”
“Dinner? Um…”
“With Reggie,” he added before the silence could stretch on, then tried not to be offended by her quick recovery.
“Actually, yes, we are free.”
“Great. I’ll try to get some reservations at Sapa for seven. Should we pick you two up at the hotel?”
“No, I’m not sure what our agenda is for the day, but we’ll probably be out and about. It might be easier if we meet you there.”
“Then it’s a date.”
There was an awkward moment of silence, until they both tried to fill it at once.
“Look, about last night—”
“I want to apologize for my behavior—”
They laughed.
“I’m sorry—”
“No, I’m sorry—”
They laughed again.
“It’s clear that both of us weren’t quite ourselves last night,” Tyler finally said. “Why don’t we just leave it at that?”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
Tyler hung up the phone wondering why he actually felt worse than he had before he placed the call. But he didn’t want to dwell on it. Lilah was only in town for a couple of weeks, and after he got her together with Reggie, he wouldn’t have to see her again.
Maybe then he’d be able to stop thinking about her.

Reggie Martin hung up the phone, cursing his older brother under his breath. Why did he think he could order him around every minute of the day?
Tyler actually expected him to have dinner with some girl he supposedly knew in high school. His brother had mentioned her name but Reggie had already tuned him out, replaying the mind-your-own-business mantra he played whenever Tyler started telling him what to do.
Wasn’t it enough for Tyler that he handled every other aspect of Reggie’s life, including his finances—giving him an allowance like a twelve-year-old?
Reggie tossed the cordless phone onto the sofa and picked up his note pad, trying to get back to the lyrics he’d been writing. Even though he stared at the words on the page, his mind refused to pick up where he’d left off.
He was starting to feel like a caged tiger. Not just in the moment, but in his life. He’d finally reached a point where he could call himself successful. The first time his parents heard his single on the radio he thought he’d finally walked out of Tyler’s shadow.
Sure, they expressed all the right sentiments, but along with those came all the usual comments.
The music business is plagued with drugs and debauchery, but thank goodness you have Tyler to keep you out of trouble.
What would you do without Tyler to help you invest those big paychecks?
You can’t make a living singing your whole life, you need a long-term plan like Tyler.
His parents would never see him as anything other than his older brother’s responsibility. And frankly, Reggie had no idea why Tyler continued to put up with it. How much fun could it really be to follow behind your little brother cleaning up his messes?
Reggie’s friends assumed that Tyler must come down so hard on him because he was jealous of his popularity and musical talent. But Reggie knew better. He’d trade in both his easy charm and his singing voice for Tyler’s brain. His brother was so smart he could do anything he wanted. There were probably a lot of things Tyler wanted to do other than managing Reggie’s business affairs.
If Reggie knew what was good for both of them, he’d leave the city and head down to Atlanta. He could take up his buddy’s offer to collaborate with Jermaine Dupri. Despite the positive buzz on his album, many of the critics were saying that his R&B ballads needed more of a hip-hop edge to compete with the reigning artists.
But Reggie knew his days of coasting were in the past. For the first time in his life he had a lot to lose. He was at the turning point where he could launch himself into superstardom or languish in the record bins as a one-hit wonder.
He couldn’t afford to make a lot of risky moves right now.
No, the safest thing to do was to stay in New York where he had steady access to his brother’s advice. After all, his parents were probably right, he could have ended up broke or strung out without Tyler constantly barking in his ear like a junkyard dog.
But that didn’t mean he had to do every little thing his brother told him, Reggie thought.
Tonight’s dinner, for instance. Reggie was sure he could come up with a good excuse to blow it off.

Chapter 6
As Lilah and Angie rode the elevator down to the lobby Saturday afternoon, Lilah was disappointed at how much of the day she’d allowed to get away. She’d planned to wake up early and go ice skating at Rockefeller Center before climbing to the top of the Statue of Liberty. But, with the clock swiftly approaching three o’clock, Lilah knew there wouldn’t be time for both before meeting Reggie Martin for dinner.
As the elevator doors slid open, Angie poked her in the arm. “Take that sour look off your face. You’re going to be in the city for two weeks. You don’t have to cram everything in on one day.”
“I know. I just don’t like wasting time. If you didn’t take such long showers—”
“Oh, don’t start that again. I’m not the one who held us up. You’re the one who couldn’t leave until you created an ice skating playlist for your MP3 player.”
The women laughed. Lilah stopped in front of the lobby doors. “So, what should we do first? Skating or the Statue of Liberty?”
“Come on, Lilah. We can knock out something like that next week. Let’s do something more daring.” She pulled a printout of Lilah’s List from her pocket and studied it.
“Aha! Get a tattoo.”
Lilah rolled her eyes. “I really don’t want a tattoo. And I’m certainly not ready for that one right now. Besides, I’ll need a couple of glasses of wine first. Or bottles…probably a whole barrel.”
Angie laughed, but continued to scan The List.
“Why don’t we go to the Statue of Liberty?” Lilah pressed.
“Okay, if not the tattoo then let’s visit a fortune-teller. She can tell you how this whole trip is going to turn out for you.”
“If I’m going to fail, do you think I really want to know today? My first full day in town?”
Angie looked exasperated. “You’re just full of excuses, aren’t you? You’re going to have to do all of these things eventually, remember? That’s why you’re here. What are you waiting for?”
“Can I help you ladies with something?” a female voice called.
Both women turned to see they were standing only a foot away from the front desk. The clerk had probably overheard their entire conversation.
“Yes,” Angie said.
“No thanks,” Lilah said.
But to Lilah’s horror, Angie was already smoothing the creased sheet out on the woman’s desk. “Do you know where we can find a fortune-teller?”
“Angie!”
“Hush, it’s either that or the tattoo shop.”
The fair redhead, whose nameplate read Maureen, swiveled to tap on her keyboard. “Sounds like you ladies are planning to really live it up while you’re in the city.”
“Yes, but I’m native and she’s visiting. This is her first real day here and we need an ice-breaker activity.”
Maureen looked up from the computer screen. “If you want to show your friend New York with a twist, you should try the Sex and the City tour. Visit all the hot spots where Carrie and the girls hung out on the show.”
“That sounds great, but the activity has to be from this list.” Angie casually held out The List as though she wasn’t baring Lilah’s private life to a stranger. “We’ve got two weeks before her thirtieth birthday to get the rest of this stuff done.”
Lilah was swinging back a pink Timberland to give Angie a warning kick when the clerk shrieked with delight.
“Oh, this is amazing. I’ve always wanted a life list. I just never took the time to write anything down.” Maureen gripped Angie’s wrist like an old girlfriend. “Does she actually know Reggie Martin?”
Lilah, who finally got tired of the two women talking about her as though she weren’t there, elbowed Angie aside before she could answer. “Yes, I do. We went to high school together, and I’m supposed to have dinner with him tonight.”
“That is a-maaa-zing!” Maureen shrieked again.
“You see. I think that’s traumatic enough for one day. So I thought my friend and I could go to the Statue of Liberty or ice skate at Rockefeller Center today. You know, to calm my nerves.”
Maureen reached over to grab a sheet of paper off her printer and handed it to Lilah. “No, you’ve got to see the fortune-teller. I don’t know much about this kind of stuff, but we had a lady staying here about two months ago that swore up and down this woman is the real deal. It’s a bit out of your way, but it could be worthwhile. Maybe she can point you in the right direction for your date with Reggie Martin.”
Angie smacked the desktop. “Maureen, you are a lifesaver.”
“Then you guys have got to come back here and tell me all about it. I’m off at six, but I’ll be back at the front desk all day tomorrow. I’ve just got to hear about the psychic and especially your date.”
Lilah felt heat rushing up her neck to flame her cheeks. “Well, if you’re really interested…”
“Oh, I am,” Maureen said. “A lot of people think you see it all working in the city, but to be honest with you, in a small hotel like this, most days are deadly dull.”
“Then you might want to check out my blog where I document my adventures with The List.”
Maureen eagerly took down the Web address and Lilah dragged Angie away from the desk before she could pull up the site.
As Angie looped her arm through Lilah’s and directed her toward the cab stand, Lilah said, “FYI, The List is private. I don’t want you flashing it around like it’s some free-for-all invitation to a keg party.”
“Uh, private? Once again, I’d like to remind you that you’re writing all about it for billions on the Web.”
“Once again, I’d like to remind you that I’ll never have to face those billions of strangers.”
“Look, you’re doing a really cool thing here. Most people are going to want to help you, not judge you.”
“I just don’t want to have to keep repeating the story for everyone we meet.”
“You need to change your attitude, Lilah. You’re going about this grudgingly instead of embracing it. That’s a setup for failure.”
“That’s not true—”
“Isn’t the point of all this to find yourself? To have all these experiences before you get too bogged down in adult life to enjoy it? If you’re going to approach each day like you did today, put yourself out of your misery and go back home.”
Lilah felt as though she’d been smacked in the face and didn’t say anything for several blocks as their cab flew through the streets of New York. Angie was a terminally upbeat person, so when Lilah received a lecture from her, it was a big deal.
The truth was she hadn’t entered this adventure with her heart in the right place. But she was investing a significant amount of time and money into this trip, so she knew she should try harder to stay focused.
The problem was that she didn’t know how to recapture the fearlessness of her youth. Now all she had were fears. Fear of making a fool of herself. Fear of failure.
Lilah had never imagined herself as someone who would one day be divorced. Yet, here she was.
Just look how horribly wrong things had gone when she was playing by the rules. She could only imagine how bad it could get without any.

As the taxi pulled up in front of a brownstone in a residential neighborhood, Angie and Lilah sat looking at each other.
Lilah leaned forward to the driver. “Sir, are you sure this is the right place?”
He pointed to the address on the building. “This is the location you gave me.”
Lilah had been expecting something more obvious. Something that shouted fortune-teller with capital letters. At the very least a neon sign in the window. The two women got out of the cab and climbed the stairs.
Lilah hesitated before ringing the doorbell. She elbowed Angie. “Do you think the concierge could have made a mistake and sent us to the wrong address?”
Angie shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out. Ring the bell.”
Lilah was still worried she was in the wrong place when a twelve-year-old Indian girl answered the door. Lilah looked down at her printout. “Hi, is Sushma Ghira here?”
The girl stepped back from the doorway, turning to shout into the hallway, “Mom, you have customers!”
They followed the girl into the living room and took seats on the sofa. No incense burning or colorful scarves draping a table with a crystal ball. It was a typical urban flat, bathed in earth tones. Lilah could see another younger girl sitting at the kitchen table coloring. The utter normalcy dashed Lilah’s cheesy fantasies.

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