Bev Ryan peered over the edge of the bar, surveying the partygoers in the tent from her crouched position. What had she been thinking? There was no way she could barge in on Mack Spenser's party. Not Mack Spenser, with his gorgeous date hanging on his every word, his custom-made suit hanging so perfectly over his broad shoulders and narrow hips.

She was not going out there.

So what if a man like Mack would never take an appointment from her. So what if this was the only way she'd ever get a chance to talk to him. So what if her future depended on his answer to her plea. There was way too much money out in that crowd, far too many attractive people. Too much sophistication.

Everyone out there would know she didn't belong, and she'd had enough of that to last pretty much the rest of her life. So, yeah. Time to abdicate.

"For heaven's sake, get up." Bev's best friend, Josie Harper, set a case of champagne on top of the bar, perilously close to Bev's nose. "You've been down there for ten minutes looking for the limes. I'm not buying it." She held up a lime. "Especially since they're all up here."

"Oh, you found them. Great." Bev slowly worked her way to her feet, dusting off her knees. "You know, I think I left my headlights on. I'm going to go check."

She hadn't even started to turn around to make her getaway when Josie clamped down on her wrist. "You're being a wimp."

"So?"

"So, you made me promise I wouldn't let you wimp out."

"I give you permission to break your promise." Bev tried to twist her arm free, but Josie had an iron grip. "Have you been using those hand exercisers or something?"

"It's from opening beer bottles. All bartenders have strong hands."

"You're only a part-time bartender."

"Yes, but vet techs have strong hands as well. Have you ever tried to keep a St. Bernard calm?"

She rolled her eyes at Josie. "Seriously? I own an animal shelter."

"This is true." Josie eyed her. "Hey, speaking of animals, perhaps you'll be less afraid of Mack if you think of him as a jerk who's destroying the lives of helpless animals." Josie began setting up empty champagne glasses on the white tablecloth.

Bev lifted her chin in defiance. "I'm not afraid of him." At Josie's skeptical look, she shrugged. "I just don't feel the need to be rejected by a man like him."

"In that dress, no man would reject you. Trust me."

Bev looked down at the low-cut dress. "Speaking of which, do you have a sweater or something I could wear over this?" And sneakers. She couldn't walk five feet in these heels without wobbling. She'd never let Josie pick her wardrobe again.

"You look fantastic." Josie handed a drink to a guest. "You better go talk to him now. He'll be too busy once they bring out the cake."

Bev tugged at the neckline of the dress, trying to pull it further up. Unsuccessful, she unfolded a cocktail napkin and spread it across her chest, tucking it into the neckline. "It's his mom's birthday party. It's rude of me to try to discuss business with him."

"Mack Spenser isn't the type to let a party keep him from talking business. He's probably trying to drum up clients as we speak. And that neckline is perfectly appropriate." Josie yanked the napkin out of Bev's dress. "The man's been tossing back drinks for the last hour. He's in a party mood, just looking for an excuse to make an attractive female swoon with gratitude. Go for it."

"I don't swoon."

"It was hypothetical," Josie said. She poked Bev in the arm. "The reason men don't adore you is because you won't let them. Use the dress, Bev. Pull those shoulders back and stick out your chest. You'll be amazed at the effect it has on a virile man."

"Virile? Aren't you being a little melodramatic?"

"He's thirty-five, with crystal blue eyes that will pierce you to your soul," Josie sighed. "Just look at that body. Trust me, the man is virile."

Bev popped an olive in her mouth and eyed Mack. He was no longer being trailed by his model date, but he was now being accosted by another woman. At least fifteen years his senior, she was shamelessly flirting with him. At least Mack didn't seem to be encouraging her, giving her periodic polite nods and tapping his foot in barely concealed irritation.

If Bev were in a movie theatre, he'd probably sit right on top of her, not even noticing that she was in the seat. True, that had happened only once, and the theatre had been dark, but it hadn't helped her frail teenage ego to have one of the school's football players actually sit on her. Now that she was an adult, she could usually avoid subjecting herself to rejection by the upper echelons of society, and she didn't really feel like putting herself in that situation again.

"Why don't I help you pour the champagne instead?" Bev picked up a bottle and started to peel the foil off the cork.

Josie yanked it out of Bev's hand. "I can pour champagne quite easily, thanks. Now, go talk to him. They're going to do the cake in ten minutes." Josie grabbed an envelope that was tucked under the ice bucket. "Here."

"What's this?"

"You told me to give it to you if you tried to run away."

"Oh...yeah." Bev opened the envelope and pulled out five photos of animals at her shelter. "Oooohhh. Why'd you do this to me?"

Josie shook her head. "Because I'm the one who'd have to listen to your whining for the next month about how you missed your chance."

"I don't whine." Bev flipped through the pictures, her heart tightening at the sight of her furry friends who were depending on her.

"Not usually," Josie agreed. "But I think you'd whine about this." She pointed at the photo Bev was looking at. "Isn't that the beagle you rescued from being euthanized at the shelter yesterday?"

"Yes, she's such an escape artist, and completely untrained, but she's so sweet."

"Exactly. Imagine what'll happen to her if you don't go talk to Mack Spenser."

Bev stared at the picture of the adorable brown and white face, and gritted her teeth, her anger beginning to rise. "Mack Spenser is a jerk. A complete and total bastard."

"There you go." Josie turned away and scooped some ice in a glass. "Channel that anger."

"Insensitive money-grubbing workaholic."

"You go, girl. Now, go out there and tell him."

"Yeah, that'll get me far. Hi, Mack. You're a jerk and I need a favor from you." Then she looked at the photo of the beagle again, and her anger intensified. "I can do this."

"Of course you can. Take advantage of the fact you look ravishing in that dress and strut right over to him, asking him for help before he's wiped the drool off his chin. But for heaven's sake, take off those hideous sunglasses first."

"Give me a break, Josie." Reluctantly removing her fluorescent pink sunglasses, Bev grabbed another olive out of Josie's dish, shoving it in her mouth as she dragged herself around the table. She could definitely do this. Definitely. He was not better than she was. So what if she would feel more confident in her overalls and shoes that she could actually walk in. She was wearing a dress that was way too sexy for her comfort, and she was just going to have to deal with it.

One more look at the photo of the beagle and she was off.