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arms, patiently waiting for her sister’s latest story.
    Jessie flopped into a chair like a deflated balloon. “First, I was fired.”
    Michelle fell forward, resting her forearms on the desk. “What? Do you know how hard it was for me to convince Montey to give you that job?”
    “I know, I know.” Jessie threw her hands in the air in a dismissive gesture. “But it wasn’t my fault. Kenneth—”
    Michelle shook her head and twirled a pen between her fingers. “Forget it. I don’t want to hear it. So now you’re unemployed.”
    “But that’s not the problem.”
    Michelle tossed down her pen and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can always count on you for a headache. What is it, then?”
    Jessie bit her nails. “It wasn’t really my fault,” she began. “It’s just that Deborah was insulting me. I had to do something.”
    “What happened?”
    She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “She even insulted you too.”
    Michelle blinked, bored. “What happened?”
    “Deborah dared me to get Kenneth Preston to fall in love with me. Well, not in love exactly,” she amended. “But I have to charm him. She wants me to get him to invite me to the Hampton Charity Ball.”
    Michelle frowned, confused. “Why would she dare you to do that?”
    Jessie shrugged. “I sort of set myself up,” she admitted, looking down at her bitten nails. She had chewed them pretty badly on her way over. “They were talking about me—”
    “Who’s ‘they’?”
    “Deborah and Tracy.”
    “Oh, yes, the brilliant and influential minds of our society,” Michelle muttered.
    “Will you just let me finish my story?”
    “Go ahead, but make it quick; I have an appointment at three.”
    Jessie glanced at her watch. “It’s only one o’clock.”
    “I know. I’m hoping you’ll finish this story sometime before then.”
    “Very funny,” Jessie said, not amused at all.
    Suddenly Michelle’s buzzer rang. She softly swore and pressed the button harder than necessary. “Yes?”
    “Your other sister is here to see you,” her assistant replied.
    Michelle sighed, resigned. “Send her in.”
    A few minutes later, Teresa made her entrance, carrying a bouquet of flowers. She had made it a habit of brightening Michelle’s office with flowers every week. As the middle child, she had inherited the Cliftons’ ordinary brown eyes and simple mouth, but she didn’t have her sisters’ temperament. Her face was round and soft instead of angular, and she had gentle eyes.
    She unwrapped the sheer gold scarf she had tied around her head. “Oh, hi, Jessie,” Teresa said. She grabbed a vase from the bookshelf and filled it with water in Michelle’s small kitchen. “What are you doing here?” Teresa paused for a moment, then stuck her head out of the kitchen and glanced at her younger sister. She suddenly burst into laughter.
    Jessie stiffened. “What’s so funny?”
    “What are you wearing? I never thought I would see you in flowers.”
    “And you’ll never see me in them again. It’s a long story.”
    “Sit down,” Michelle said. “You’re just in time to hear your sister’s latest spectacle.”
    “I didn’t make a spectacle of myself,” Jessie argued.
    “From what I—”
    Teresa raised her voice. “What happened?”
    Jessie sighed. The more she repeated the story, the more ridiculous it sounded. “I bet Deborah that I could charm any guy I wanted.”
    “Ah, but that’s not all,” Michelle added. “He has to ask her to the Hampton Charity Ball.”
    “Do you know how much that event costs?” Teresa asked, arranging the flowers in the vase. “Why would you say that?”
    Jessie sighed. “Because she implied that she can and I can’t.”
    “But you can’t,” Michelle said, trying to help her sister see reason.
    “That’s not the point. It’s about pride, dignity.”
    Michelle drummed her fingers on the desk. “So you made this ridiculous bet with her in order to save your