Lynn returned to her apartment to find it void of Joy and in utter chaos. Struck numb, she absorbed the scattering of clothing, garbage and other debris that took over what had once been her living room.

Dishes on her coffee table, a tangle of bedding on her couch...not a single surface had been spared the hurricane that was Joy Summers. And, Lynn thought heatedly, because she refused to be her spoiled baby sister's maid, Lynn turned her back on it all and stalked straight her bedroom.

Closing herself off from the world and the mess. She'd deal with Joy tomorrow.

Back braced to the door, Lynn exhaled heavily, slid down until she sank to the floor.

What the hell was she going to do?

She'd woke that morning her thoughts a tangled mess of her conversation last night with Mr. Dekker. Somehow she had to get her hands on another fifty grand to buy herself time, and added to that, now she could add Hunter to the already crowded corners of her mind. God, she thought, shucking off her coat and gloves, she really had to find a way to get this itch for him in check. She hadn't been prepared to see him—so out of the blue, and certainly not for her mind and body to react the way it had.

So clumsy and unfocused and...female, she thought with a hint of exasperation. Odds were he was probably scratching his head with a laugh, wondering what the hell had got into her to behave so strangely.

Rising to her feet, Lynn stripped off her clothes in exchange for her clean, comfortable clothes.

He'd affected her that way years ago when she'd crossed from her teens into her twenties, and she'd worked her way out of it, of ignoring the longing and niggling urges, repressing the moments of wonder and silent wishes she never dared voice. What was the point? She couldn't have him. End of story. That possibility had shot out the window the moment she and his brother, Tristan had dated years before.

Though the youthful romance hadn't lasted beyond a few short months and a handful of kisses, she had grown to form a tight bond with his family and had spent a lot of time in the Mercer household. Even when she'd left Toronto to attend McGill, every Christmas and New Years, birthdays and various occasions since, she'd come home and always found herself welcomed into the Mercer home.

Except for the last three when Hunter had skipped abroad to Europe, cutting his way through, working various jobs and trades. The last she'd heard he had been in Rome. Oh, they'd kept in touch, she thought, sending each other occasional emails online chat, but nothing substantial with the time difference and the intensity of his focus in his art.

To look at Hunter now and want was just wrong. Inappropriate. A fact she had thought she'd drummed into her skull once already only to have reason ripped away the moment she'd been in his arms in a snowy morning after three years apart. And whatever was stirring inside of her now was a result of her moods caught in a vulnerable moment, added to the fact that she hadn't been prepared—hadn't known he was back.

And how odd, how conveniently strange, that both she and Ada had just been touching on the subject of whether or not he'd make the trip home only yesterday. Well, regardless of the cause for the return of this inappropriate attraction, this vulnerable ache still trembling inside of her, it was up to her to quell and subdue it.

Quickly.

He was, as always, she thought, off limits.

#

Lynn spent her morning hefting and hauling boxes from her spare room down to the basement storage—where they admittedly should have been in the first place, but hadn't had the time to migrate to in the last year.

By noon she'd worked up a good, healthy sweat.

Her arms were sore and her thighs killing, but the room was empty and needed only a good dusting and wipe down which took no more than an hour or so to complete which she managed to get to later after the allotted classes and client lessons for the afternoon.

Finding spare bedding from her hallway cupboard, Lynn dressed the collapsed futon, fluffed pillows and hung clean curtains. When she was done, tired, filthy and aching, she examined the final results with a measure of pride.

The room was small—tiny, to be fair, with barely enough room for the futon, dresser and table topped with a slender yellow vase filled with bold, white hydrangea that popped against the soft smoky blue of the walls, cream curtains and bedding.

All in all it was a picture of cozy. Not that Joy seemed to particularly appreciate or care when she'd called her in for the reveal. Just a muttered, 'Thanks' before plopping her bags on the carefully made bed.

A fact that had set Lynn's teeth and had her digging around her kitchen for the bottle of merlot she'd intended to save for a Bolognese sauce.

With Joy locked away, and a measure of quiet and time to herself, Lynn poured out a glass then sighed hugely at the knock at her door.

Lynn groaned, glancing across to her wall clock and realizing the time. "I completely lost track. The party. We're late."

"Fashionably so." Ada tried not to wince in obvious disgust. Of all her friends, she knew Lynn to be the cleanliest by nature. But one would never know it to look at the place now. Clothes were strewn about the floors, books and magazines, take-out containers and empty bottles, plates and cups littered just about every visible surface. The air smelled of stale food and something...sour.

"This place stinks." Ada waved a hand over her face, not at all the least bit embarrassed to admit the truth to Lynn's face. "Your sister is a slob. Bring the bottle and your clothes. We'll take it over to my place and you can get ready there. I need a hand with carting over the goods, anyway."

Lynn opened her mouth to argue she'd only need five minutes to tie back her hair and toss on an outfit when she took a slow and measured look about and thought, fuck it. "Ok. Give me a sec and I'll be right out."

It took her three minutes to collect everything she needed, bark a quick warning to Joy that she wanted the apartment sparkling by tomorrow morning, and dash out with Ada across the street. There, in the shower, Lynn gave herself five minutes to sigh into the warm waters before she gave way to punctuality panic and dressed like a woman gone mad.

Ada watched the flurry and chaos, wine in one hand and a smirk across her face. "Geez, Lynn, we're just going to see family. No need to fuss, really."

Your family, Lynn nearly pointed out, then caught herself. Ada, much like Lynn, was an old family friend but with deeper, stronger ties through her mother Jacqueline and father Todd whom had practically grown up with Maureen and Nelson, making her a kind of cousin to Hunter, Tristan and Darcy.

Perhaps not of blood, but as good as and just as close in heart.

"So, you going to tell me about the scene I walked into?" Ada raised an accentuated brow she'd deepened with liner so it was as bold and deep and rich as her rioting red mane. Because she was hungry and always in need of a sugar fix, to accompany Lynn's wine, she'd brought in a small carton of apple Danishes picked up fresh just that morning and was taking her first bite of puffed, sugar dusted pastry with a smile.

"Nothing to say," Lynn shrugged into a third shirt, assessed herself in the mirror. "When the culprit is so painfully obvious."

With a scowl, Ada ran a disapproving tongue over her teeth as she glowered into her merlot. She'd never been a fan of Joy, from the years spent listening to the latest and greatest of disasters and debacles that kid had landed herself in.

A few months shy of twenty-five and Joy Summers was as good as dead weight and only ever reached out to Lynn when looking for a hand out. A fact that made the protective hackles raise on the back of her neck like a cat scenting trouble. She'd never had a sister. Had always hoped and prayed for one, but spent her life the lonely and awkward only child, until Lynn had entered her life.

Like the Mercers, Lynn was the family she'd chosen for herself.

And no one, no one, messed with her family.

"Just kick her insufferable ass to the curb, Lynn, and be done with it. You don't need any more stress to add to the mix right now."

"I can't." Lynn stripped off her jeans, wiggled into a skirt. "I offered her a job."

"You did what?" Ada chocked on her mouthful of Danish. Setting it down, she took a deep guzzle of wine to clear her mouth before dusting off sugar coated fingers. "Are you insane?"

Helpless to argue, Lynn clasped golden hoops to her lobes. "She needs help."

"She needs a swift kick in the ass from the Real World. Shit, Lynn, she's always come to you with tears and some excuse about why she needs this and why she needs that. 'Just a couple hundred, Lynn, please? Seriously—it's only fifteen hundred, what's two thousand between family?' How much does she owe you?"

Lifting her own glass of wine, Lynn sipped slowly. "Thirty grand."

"Hell," Ada snarled. "And now you're giving her more."

"It's a job. Not a hand out," Lynn reminded sagely, casting her gaze towards Ada in the mirror with blush at the ready. "She'll be paying rent, pitching in for groceries and miscellaneous bills. Cleaning up after herself"

Ada scoffed. "I'll believe that when I see it. In fact, I think I might swing by Plié tomorrow, bright and early, so I can witness little Miss Haute Couture in action."

"Ada. Please." Lynn stroked blush over her cheeks, bringing some much needed life to her winter pale skin. "I know Joy can be a pain, and not easy to get along with, but she's still my sister."

"Shit. You're right." Sighing, because Ada knew she'd crossed an ethical line. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a bitch. You know me in the morning. I'll snipe about everything. I hope it works out. I really do. I know you could use the help in the studio, and having her around could go a long way to easing your stress. I just don't want to see you left stranded and disappointed. Again. Joy isn't exactly a picture of reliability.

"I think this time is going to be different. You should have seen her, Ada. She looked so...lost. Truly lost. I think there's more, something else that she hasn't or won't tell me." Setting aside the brush, Lynn reached for the mascara, caught Ada's reflection again in the mirror with a smile.

"Alright," she waved her wine and Danish, "alright. I'll back off and reserve judgement. For now, at least, and give Joy an opportunity to prove me wrong. Now, let's get you finished up." Jumping from the bed, Ada reached for the wand and crooked a finger under Lynn's chin, angling her face towards the light.

Curling her lashes with a wisp of mascara, Ada stood back and studied the results with a scrutinizing eye for detail. As always, though she'd routinely begged her to do otherwise, Lynn had pulled her mane of golden curls, heavy and damp down the center of her back, away from her oval face.

Bold blue eyes, clear as summer skies, stared back at her under a frame of lashes accentuated just enough without being overly fussy. A hint of blush and a pale pink lipstick to echo the pleated skirt that floated below her knees, begged for spring to finally arrive. Around her throat, she'd draped the simple gold chain with the star pendant cradling an opal. A gift from Hunter years ago for the twenty-first birthday.

"There," Ada nodded approvingly and put away the mascara before adjusting the lapels of her cobalt blazer over a steel gray camisole and black slacks. "I give the nod of approval. You carry Hunter's package;" she gestured to the canvas wrapped large flat package roped in twine, propped against the wall, "and I'll take the rest of the gifts. Let's get a move on." Ada clapped.

"Time waits for no one and we're due to make an entrance."