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own business.”
    “It’s okay,” Trista answered. She twirled around, viewing herself in the full-length mirror. The coral dress fit her perfectly.
    “I heard you had a beach house here in Blue Mountain. Of course, no one has ever seen you around, so I thought it was just a rumor,” the salesgirl continued.
    “I’m just visiting for a bit,” Trista said. She wandered around the store and picked out two more dresses. One was an off-shoulder sundress in mint, and another maxi dress, this one peach, with a white crochet insert at the hem and neckline. Spring was right around the corner, and she needed a few new things to spice up her wardrobe. Most of her things she left behind in California in an air-conditioned storage unit. Starting over seemed like a good idea when she left.
    “Do you have a big event to attend?”
    “Just a private birthday party tonight.” Trista added a few pieces of jewelry and a pair of bone-colored sandals to the mix. “I’ll just try these on, too. Thanks.”
    Trista slipped back into the dressing room and tried on the rest of the clothes. After her breakup with Blake, Trista had lost a few pounds. A few years ago, she would’ve been happy with the sudden weight loss. When she first moved to Hollywood her agent at the time—a gentleman named Walter Murphy, who had since retired—advised her to lose about twenty pounds if she wanted to work in the film business. Trista struggled for months to lose the weight, spending money she didn’t have on personal trainers and protein-shake mixes. Now a five-pound weight loss made her look too thin. She vowed to eat right while she was here. Florida was known for its fresh seafood, and she planned to indulge herself in shrimp, scallops, fish, and lobster, along with decadent key lime pies. Trista walked out of the dressing room in the mint sundress, admiring the way the dress hugged her frame. The spray tan she’d gotten before she came to Florida really accentuated the color.
    “That looks really good on you!” the salesgirl told her. “It brings out your complexion nicely.”
    Trista studied herself in the mirror again. The mint dress hugged her curves in all the right places. Her trademark honey-blonde hair hung loosely around her shoulders. She had inherited her mother’s unusual violet-blue eyes, pert nose, and full lips. Her father, who was Italian, thankfully passed on his nice skin color to her. She thought she got the best of both worlds from her parents. She turned full circle and admired the way the dress looked on her. “I’ll take everything,” she told the salesgirl. She headed back to the dressing room and changed.
    She was a little nervous about the party tonight. She wondered if Nicolette had told her friends about her famous sister. “Is the Watercolor Spa still open?” Trista inquired as she put all the clothing and shoes on the sales counter. What she really needed was a full day of pampering. Massage, facial, mani-pedi…and thinking about her wild night with Riker, a bikini wax. Who knows? After the party, Trista thought, she just might head over to the Liar’s Club and see if Riker was working. Another night of hot, passionate sex could just be the cure she needed for a broken heart.
    “Yes, it is. My friend Ella works there. I can call her and set something up for you. She’ll take good care of you,” she offered as she rang up the purchases.
    Trista looked at her watch. It was almost noon. “That would be great. I need to run if I’m going to make the party in time.” She thanked the salesgirl, grabbed her bags, and headed out to the spa. Tonight she wasn’t going to worry about Blake or her career. She would focus on having fun with her sister and making new friends.

Chapter Six
     
    Trista could hear the guests arriving as she dressed. She was surprised to find that she had butterflies in her stomach. Attending this party would be a start in the right direction with her sister. Plus she was curious