Dylan followed her into the kitchen. “I smell pizza.”
“You’re a Buchanan,” Kate commented. “It’s your superpower.”
She and Laurant placed five giant pizzas on the island. Dylan didn’t wait for an invitation. He opened a box and reached for a huge slice with pepperoni.
“We want to hear every word, Isabel,” Laurant insisted. She pulled out a chair at the table and told her to sit. “Start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out. I am so excited to hear what XO . . . I mean Xavier . . . is like.”
“Hold on. I want to ask Isabel a question first. How many tickets can you get?” Kate wanted to know. “I thought it would be nice to invite Michael’s girlfriend, Amanda, and a couple of Jordan’s friends.”
Dylan’s eyes immediately darted to Isabel. “Absolutely not,” he said. “Do not invite Amanda . . .
or anyone else.”
Kate looked surprised. “Why not?”
“It’s taking advantage of Xavier to ask for more tickets,” Laurant guessed.
Regan nodded. “It would be rude, Kate. Besides, I don’t think she is his girlfriend. He never talks about her.”
Kate walked over to Dylan with a puzzled look on her face and he pulled her into his arms.
“Sometimes, honey, you’re just oblivious,” he whispered. And then he kissed her so she wouldn’t ask any more questions.
Isabel was mortified. Dylan’s reaction to the mention of Amanda was to immediately look at her.
It was obvious he somehow knew she had feelings for Michael. Great. Like Noah and Nick and Alec, all FBI agents, Dylan didn’t miss a trick. He noticed every little thing, so she figured the other men must know, too. She felt like such a fool. Running away to avoid Michael wasn’t the answer. She needed to get over him.
Regan noticed she was staring off into space. “Isabel? What are you doing?”
Smiling, she looked up and said, “Writing a song about Scotland . . . and escape.”
The women didn’t let her mull over her problems long. They bombarded her with questions about XO. Michael walked in the door just in time to hear Isabel tell everyone how nice Xavier was to her.
“He’s very handsome,” she said. “But not vain. He’s considerate, too,” she added.
Michael took a bottle of beer from the refrigerator. He leaned against the counter and listened while the women grilled Isabel.
“Did he like you?” Laurant wanted to know. “I mean, did he like your voice?”
“Yes,” she said. “Once my nerves cooperated, my voice got stronger.” She added with a shrug, “I guess he thought it was okay.”
She deliberately avoided looking at Michael while the barrage of questions continued.
“He wants to take me out on a date. He says it will take a lot of planning. I guess he gets hounded everywhere he goes. I can’t imagine anything more awful. Being a superstar traps a person.”
“That’s the price you pay,” Regan said.
Michael stood quietly listening to the conversation, and when there was a lull, he downed the last of his beer and turned to Dylan. “What time are the MacAlisters getting here?”
“In a couple of hours,” he answered. “And yeah, I know. Time to lock up our women.”
Michael nodded, smiling, as he walked through the kitchen. He tugged on Isabel’s ponytail as he passed her. “Especially this one.”
With a frown Isabel spun in her chair. What was that supposed to mean? Once again, Michael was doing everything he could to irritate her. She opened her mouth to retaliate, but decided against it.
Now was not the time for an argument. She turned back to the table, where the women were making plans for her big night.
Regan offered her a suite at the hotel. Isabel was grateful but told her that wouldn’t be necessary.
However, she would appreciate having the same room she’d had before. Kate lined up a makeup artist and hairstylist to take care of Isabel. Jordan and Laurant weighed in on the issue of shoes. They insisted flats were out; heels were in. They would make sure the pair she decided on wouldn’t slip when she walked across the stage. To accomplish that, Laurant ran upstairs to fetch a pair for Isabel to practice walking.
Isabel felt ridiculous wearing them around the house and down the drive to break them in. Thank goodness they weren’t the six-inch stilettos Kate wanted to buy her, but the pair she had on were still awkwardly high. After about an hour she got used to them. In fact, they actually became comfortable.