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not,” Lauren said, opening the brochure. “Tennis, golf, horseback riding on the beach. Even an on-site spa. Oh, my God—they have mud baths and hot stone massages.”

      Rory shuddered. “A naked weekend with a total stranger.”

      “No one says you actually have to go on the date with the guy,” Mikki pointed out. “Look, Maureen’s been working hard on this event and is counting on all of us being there to support her. The backing from city merchants has been amazing.”

      Lauren perused the extensive list of prizes, then handed the brochure to Rory. “It looks like every movieplex in the entire Bay area has donated passes.”

      Rory brightened. “Movie passes? Now you’re talking my language.”

      “Tons of them,” Mikki said. “Including the theaters, the opera house—even the ballet company. They were all happy to hand over almost a dozen pairs of tickets. Maureen’s gotten just about every trendy or exclusive restaurant in San Francisco to each contribute three or more dinners for two, and even managed to wrangle nearly a third of the B and B’s in Napa to donate weekend stays. There are a couple of day-spa packages, too. I would love to get my hands on one of those.”

      “She really worked hard on this,” Rory said. “It looks like every lock-and-key ticket holder will receive a prize of some sort.”

      Mikki sensed her weakening and went in for the proverbial kill. “Baxter House is important to her. And to me, too. I wish there’d been a place like that when I was in the system,” she added, hoping it would be the final push over the edge into acceptance.

      Rory let out a sigh, then placed the brochure on the table before crossing the workroom to pull a lavender apron from the hook by the rear door. “I’ll reimburse you for my ticket, but I don’t need to be there.”

      “Well…” Mikki hesitated. She wasn’t all that comfortable the key party plan herself. When it came to men, she didn’t exactly wear a user-friendly label. The truth was, she had a tendency to use men for sex. She had no use for relationships or romantic entanglements. The female version of the old love-’em-and-leave-’em cliché. “You sorta do.”

      Rory slipped the loop of the apron over her head and tied the sash. “Why, exactly, do I sorta have to be there?”

      “Because I kind of promised Maureen you’d…” Oh, she’d really done it this time. Rory was going to kill her.

      Her sister’s eyes instantly filled with suspicion. “That I’d what, Mikki?”

      “Donate desserts and pastries from the shop,” she said in a rush.

      Rory folded her arms, raised one eyebrow and gave her a direct look. “For how many people?” Her sister obviously knew a rat—even one with good intentions—when she smelled one.

      Lauren nudged Mikki with her elbow. “Have you ever noticed how much she looks like Mom when she does that? Scary.”

      “I always hated that look,” Mikki muttered.

      “Because you knew she’d busted you cold,” Lauren reminded her.

      “Well?” Rory impatiently prodded.

      Mikki sucked in a quick breath that did nothing to alleviate the stab of guilt. “Five hundred.” She winced before adding, “Minimum.”

      Lauren’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Mikki, you’ve always been pushy, but even you have to admit this time you just may have crossed the line.”

      “I think I figured that one out, Lauren.”

      “Are you for real?” Rory’s tone rose sharply, but contained no anger, only shocked disbelief.

      Mikki couldn’t really blame her if she was angry. She had resorted to out-and-out manipulation, even if it was for Rory’s own good. Since she’d opened Lavender Field she’d been working too hard and it was time she let loose and had a little fun. Although whipping up baked goods for five-hundred-plus people didn’t exactly qualify as fun, she suddenly realized.

      “I’ll help,” Mikki offered. She was a much better lawyer than a cook, and hoped her sister would forget that minute detail.

      “Prepare baked goods and pastries for five hundred people or more with only four days’ notice?” Rory’s expression remained tough as nails even though she had an expert staff at her disposal. “You bet you will.”

      “So will I,” Lauren added, leaning over to offer Mikki a sympathetic hug.

      Rory shook her head. “Dammit, Mikki. I can’t believe you did this to me.”

      “I know, and I’m sorry. I should be shot. But think of all the great publicity for Lavender Field. With your fourth store opening soon, it can’t hurt.”

      “Maureen’s really expecting five hundred people to show up for this thing?” Lauren asked.

      “She’s hoping for twice that,” Mikki answered. “She’s sold five hundred tickets so far.”

      “Impressive, but that’s hardly going to cover the cost of construction,” Rory pointed out.

      “Maureen found a contractor willing to donate the work for free, and is arranging for subcontractors who’ll do the same. All she has to do is raise enough to cover the cost of materials,” Mikki explained. She turned to Lauren. “Could you do a story on the fund-raiser? This is San Francisco. You know how we love our causes. Who knows what kind of additional donations it might bring in for Baxter House. Maureen would love the free publicity.”

      “Maybe,” Lauren said with a fair degree of hesitation, but Mikki could tell by her sister’s expression she was giving serious consideration to the idea.

      “Maybe you should ask Maureen first,” Rory chided with a hint of sarcasm.

      Mikki shot Rory an exasperated look. “I said I was sorry. Sheesh, do you want it in blood?”

      Rory’s wry smile was slow in coming. “Flour will do just fine. And you’d better be here by six o’clock to start signing. Call it just deserts for volunteering my services.” She snorted. “And risking my dignity at a key party, of all things.”

      Mikki she loved these women with all her heart. And it had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact they never could say no to her.

      BALANCING THREE DRINK glasses in her hands, Mikki nodded her thanks to the bartender then navigated the crush of charity-loving partygoers at Clementine’s to make her way back to the table where Rory and Lauren waited for her. A particularly attractive denim-covered ass caught her attention and she paused momentarily to check out the rest. Trim waist, wide shoulders and…oops. That little gold band on his left hand was more than enough of a deterrent for her to keep walking. Still, that ass definitely deserved a second glance and she shamelessly enjoyed the view as she passed.

      A stocky guy with dark wavy hair sporting a small, twinkling diamond in his ear blatantly gave her the once-over as she moved closer to Rory and Lauren. Under normal circumstances, Mikki didn’t go out of her way to encourage men who came on to her, but she’d had a brutally disappointing day in court. She still couldn’t believe the judge had ordered the minor she’d been representing back into his junkie, trick-turning mother’s custody when the child’s paternal grandparents were willing to assume his care. Despite Mikki’s strenuous objections, the judge had ruled in favor of the boy’s biological mother, but Mikki knew from experience the kid would be back in the system within a few months, with who knew how many new emotional scars.

      The guy with the earring winked at her. Maybe some safe but mindless sex would take the edge off, she thought. She usually preferred the role of the aggressor. Her party, her rules. As long as she called the shots, she stayed in control, which was the only way she liked it.

      Diamond Jim did have a pair of gorgeous, clear green eyes that perhaps made him worthy of a pithy innuendo about locks and

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