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is Scarlet Rose. She’s Gary’s sister.”
    Sebastian smoothed a hand through his black hair as he tossed it over his shoulder, a habitual gesture that drove the women wild during his few but well-received concerts. “You got dibs on her?”
    “Well, I wouldn’t exactly say ‘dibs,’ but give me time—”
    “Oh?” He gave Vince a sly grin, which pushed a parenthesis into the flesh on either side of his mouth. “Well, if she is not yours, then I’d say she is available.”
    Vince acquiesced with a sigh. “I guess.”
    “Very beautiful. Beau ideal."
    “Yes, she is,” Vince agreed, though he was never sure of the meaning of the French words that Sebastian sprinkled into his conversations.
    Out of his peripheral vision, he observed Scarlet roam about the room picking up dirty ashtrays and empty cans. He laughed at how Casper followed her everywhere, more like a puppy than a cat. “Yes, she is,” he said again, finding it impossible to take his eyes off her long, tan legs which ended in wicked black pumps.
    But right now, in his slightly inebriated state, he couldn’t come up with a good argument to keep Sebastian from pursuing her. He knew that if he let Sebastian anywhere near her, his chances would probably be spoiled. And he did want a chance. Scarlet was the first woman he’d met in a long time who actually interested him. She wasn’t fake or pushy like so many others he’d met. She was natural and genuine, and he found himself wanting her more and more each time he saw her.
    He didn’t have to know Sebastian very well to know what he was thinking as Scarlet bent near Gary’s head and whispered in his ear, her dress riding to the top of her well-toned thighs. He and Sebastian had met when Wild Child was in New York a few months ago and since then they’d talked on the phone a few times. Sebastian was a studio musician gone solo. A year ago he had released his own self-titled album, full of extravagant guitar pieces that bordered on the classical/flamenco style, but which had been touted by the critics as a rock n’ roll masterpiece. He was a guitar hero to his fans, and to his peers, a master, unmatched by anyone.
    Major bands had sought him out, offering the lead guitar position with million dollar promises, but Sebastian kept to himself most of the time, satisfied to do his own thing. He once told Vince that money didn’t matter, though he always seemed to have enough for whatever he needed.
    And Vince was eager to have him work with Wild Child. He was sure that, mixed with Gary’s shredding guitar licks, Sebastian would add the touch of elegance the band needed in their songs.
    “I’m going to talk to her.” Sebastian slapped Vince across the knee and headed toward the kitchen where he’d seen Scarlet disappear with an armful of empty glasses.
    ***
    His long slender legs, sheathed in black suede, stepped carefully through the maze of bodies strewn about the living room floor. Timeworn boots of black leather clicked across the tiles as he entered the kitchen, where he found Scarlet washing glasses in the sink, singing along with Wild Child’s music, oblivious to him as he stood behind her admiring the wiggle in her hips that came with the scrubbing motion in the sink.
    A black cat sat next to the faucet, dipping a paw into the bubbles, but his ears perked and he looked up when Sebastian entered. As if he’d been cued, the cat leapt to the floor and scrambled from the room.
    Never a fan of cats, Sebastian sneered at the beast's exit as he leaned against the counter. His hair fell down over his shoulders, concealing the large gold hoop earrings he frequently wore. His eyes followed Scarlet’s curves up from her sexy black pumps, over her hips to her waist, all covered tightly by black lace. Creamy-smooth shoulders peeked out from the top of her dress, redirecting her dark curls as they tumbled down her back.
    “So, there are two musicians in the family.” His voice was soft but still he