Got Your Number

seemed to need his input. He had tolerated her cousin's company like the good and kind man he was, but surely he knew that Roxann had slept with many men, that she wasn't wholesome like Angora.
    She and Roxann hadn't lived together for a couple of years at that point, but still saw each other when she needed help with an assignment, or studying for an exam. Angora never mentioned the lunches she witnessed, or that she knew Roxann was in love with him. She couldn't afford to alienate her cousin—she needed her help to graduate. So as always, she'd kept her mouth shut and pondered why good girls finished last.
    Angora ground her perfect teeth. She was soooo tired of being a good girl.
    "Earth to Angora."
    She blinked Roxann into view. "Um, sorry."
    Roxann angled her head. "Are you okay? Maybe we should find a hotel and relax, watch a movie. You had a rough day yesterday."
    She wanted to scream, My life is one long rough day , but the genuine concern in Roxann's eyes stopped her, and a familiar push-pull of emotions churned in her chest. One minute she wished Roxann had never been born, the next minute she coveted her approval. God, it would be so easy to hate Roxann—seemingly the source of all her problems, yet seemingly the solution to all her problems. Absent for long stretches of time, but there when Angora needed her most. Affection surged in her throat, and the fierce animosity ebbed as quickly as it had flowed. "You're just trying to get out of having your colors done."
    "My colors done? What's that?"
    Angora rolled her eyes. "Let me take care of everything."
    To her surprise, Roxann was like an obedient, if wary, child, submitting to her ministrations at the makeup counter, and later, as Angora helped Steve the hairdresser select shoulder-length extensions to match the blue-black strands of Roxann's stick-straight hair. She did complain that everything was taking too long, and yelped when her eyebrows were tidied with hot wax, but otherwise acquiesced. An hour later when Steve turned Roxann around in the chair, the transformation was truly remarkable, and this time, Angora couldn't stem the flood of envy.
    Smooth, dark skin, enormous brown eyes surrounded by long, long lashes. Those patented cheekbones and a straight, slender nose. Naturally red lips, full and curvy, a small, strong chin. Features so clear and elegant, framed by thick short bangs and a fall of dark hair. She might have been a movie star from the fifties.
    "You're...gorgeous," Angora murmured.
    Roxann laughed sardonically and stood to brush her clothes. "Thanks for all the goodies, Angora, but we'd better hit the road."
    Her cousin was oblivious to her looks, always had been. Frustration clogged Angora's throat. If she had been blessed with chiseled features and a willowy figure, she would have been Miss America for sure. She reached up to touch her crown, then remembered she had left it in the van. Roxann probably thought she was vain, but she couldn't help it—the crowns were markers of her few accomplishments. Sometimes at night when demons kept her awake, she would remove one of the sparkling tiaras from the revolving case her mother had had specially built and wear it to bed, propping herself up on pillows so she wouldn't damage the delicate stones. She never failed to dream good dreams with the weight of winning on her head.
    "You're welcome," she said as she paid Steve for their treatments, plus makeup kits, skin-care regimes, perfumes, lotions, shampoos, hairspray, blow dryer, diffuser, hot rollers, curling iron, and a half-dozen other beauty necessities with the borrowed AmEx card. Take that, Trenton. "Do you think we'll make it to South Bend by Wednesday?"
    Roxann startled her by pulling her away from the counter rather urgently. "Lower your voice," she whispered.
    Angora frowned. "Why?"
    "Because—" Her cousin seemed flustered. "Because we're traveling alone—we can't be too careful."
    Excitement bubbled in her chest. "Does this have anything to do with the detective who's looking for you?"
    "No. Let's go."
    "Okay," she said in response to Roxann's sharp tone, then followed her back to the counter where they collected their many bags. But Roxann seemed nervous, glancing at her watch, then out the window into the parking lot. She must really be getting worked up about seeing Dr. Carl again. Then an amazing thought struck her—was he the reason Roxann had never married?
    She stared at Roxann's preoccupied profile and pursed her