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due at the restaurant until seven-forty-five.”
    She glared at him over her shoulder as she headed toward the bedroom. “You told me seven-thirty.”
    “I lied.”
    The bedroom door slammed shut behind her, but not before Hatch had had a chance to notice the deep V cut into the back of the little black dinner dress. A great deal of smooth, cream-colored skin was showing in the cut-out portion.
    Hatch smiled again and glanced around the small, cozy room. He had not had occasion to spend a great deal of time in Jessie's apartment, much to his regret, but whenever he found himself in it, he was oddly intrigued by the eclectic, colorful decor.
    The place reflected Jessie's constantly shifting, often whimsical interests. The furniture was basically modern and consisted of a lot of glass, black metal, and high-tech designs. There were framed posters on the walls because Jessie changed her mind too often to risk investing in expensive paintings. One could always throw a poster away when one got tired of it, she had explained when Hatch had inquired about them. Near the front window there was a low glass table with a collection of miniature cacti arranged on it. The spiny plants looked vaguely bewildered here in the damp environs of the Pacific Northwest. The last time Hatch had been in the apartment there had been ferns on the table.
    There was a wall of books behind the sofa. The titles ranged from works on magic and myth to self-help volumes on how to find a creative, fulfilling career. There were none of the trendy books one often saw in a woman's apartment about how to find and keep a man, Hatch noticed. The collection of fiction covered nearly every genre from romance and suspense to horror and science fiction.
    The only thing that appeared to stay constant in Jessie's world was her unswerving loyalty to her family. Hatch had observed during the past two months that she was in many ways the heart and soul of the Benedict clan.
    Loyalty was something that Hatch prized highly in a woman, probably because he'd experienced so little of it from them in the past. It had become clear to him that if he embedded himself deeply enough into the Benedict family, he would enjoy the same degree of loyalty the others got from Jessie. His entire courtship strategy was based on that observation.
    The phone on the glass end table warbled just as Hatch started to leaf through a book entitled Toward a New Philosophy of Ecology . He noticed it was a birthday gift to Jessie from her cousin David.
    “Get that for me, will you, Hatch?” Jessie called from the bedroom.
    Hatch picked up the phone. “Yes?”
    “Hi,” said a bright, bubbling voice. “This is Alison from Caine, Carter, and Peat calling for Jessie Benedict.”
    “Just a minute.” Hatch put down the phone and went down the hall to knock on the closed door of the bedroom.
    “Who is it, Hatch?”
    “Sounds like a broker.”
    “Oh, God. Alison. At this hour? I've been ducking her calls all day.” Jessie opened the door and stared at Hatch with dismayed eyes. “I thought I could avoid her until tomorrow morning. She's trying to sell me stock in some company that's making fat-free cooking oil. Do you know anything about fat-free cooking oil?”
    “Only that it's probably too good to be true.”
    “I was afraid of that. What am I going to tell her?”
    “Why don't you just say no?” Hatch inhaled the subtle scent that was emanating from her bedroom. Through the crack in the doorway he could just make out the corner of a white-quilted bed. A pair of discarded panty hose lay in seductive disarray on the white carpet.
    “You don't understand,” Jessie hissed in exasperation. “I can't say no to Alison. She's a friend and she's new in the business and she's working very hard to build up a list of clients. I feel I should help her.”
    Hatch raised his brows, went back out into the living room, and picked up the phone.
    “Jessie is not interested in any shares in fat-free cooking