The smell of French toast and fresh fruit drew me from the shower, a curious, sweet cinnamon smell that I haven't smelled in…ages. Tenth grade, I think. Yanking down a fluffy red towel, I wrapped it around myself so I was completely covered and ventured forth from the bathroom. The bedroom smelled the same even through the closed door.

Cautiously opening the bedroom door, I brushed back some dripping long hair and watched Panther place another plate on the table in his living room. My eyes widened at the plate's contents: French toast smothered in cinnamon with a cut strawberry on top, two thin slices of cantaloupe on the side and a small pitcher of syrup – REAL syurp.

"Are you a chef?" I demanded before I could stop myself.

Panther looked up, surprised, flushed red and looked at the ceiling. "Uh, no, not really. My sisters are." He cleared his throat nervously and turned around, "do you want to eat after you get dressed?"

"Hell no – I want to eat now!" I sat down on the couch, checked to make sure my towel was still in place, and grabbed the plate. "Do you mind?"

Panther looked at me like I was crazy, but his better manners got the best of him. "O-Of course not. Would you like me to -?"

"No, stay – eat. Sorry if I'm making you nervous, but this smells really good. Looks good too," I added after a moment, drizzling syrup on the two pieces of fat French toast. "And I'm ravenous. I hardly ate anything at dinner last night I was so nervous. Well? Sit! Eat! Don't let me eat alone – ladies don't like that."

"Right now I don't think you count as a lady," Panther said dryly, sinking weakly into one of his leather chairs across from me and picking up his own plate. "Ladies get dressed first."

I shoved my first bite into my mouth and melted. "Oh, Jesus, this is so good," I moaned, "cinnamon!" Then my brain focused on what he had just said. "Hey!" I spread my arms out, balancing the plate, "can you see anything?"

Panther shook his head, conceding one point. "No."

"So what's the problem?" I demanded, digging in again. The French toast was light and fluffy, maple syrup drowning it in sugary goodness. Heaven. "Did your sisters teach you any other recipes?"

"You like it?" Panther asked, glancing at my plate smeared with syrup and grimaced, dipping his French toast into a neat puddle of maple syrup. "That recipe was my mother's."

"IT'S WONDERFUL."

"I'm glad you think so," Panther said graciously, stretching out his legs to relax a little. I hesitated, bite halfway to my mouth, to survey his clothes critically. He was wearing a dark plum dress shirt and black slacks with dress shoes.

"Going somewhere special today?" I asked softly, shoving the bite into my mouth and chewing hard. Why did it matter to me? I'm only staying long enough to eat and dress.

"No – well, I suppose. I'm just going to a family reunion. A small one," Panther added with a slight smile. "My family – my father, too – and my mother's extended family." There was a knock on the door.

Panther frowned. "She's early."

"She?" My heart leapt into my throat followed by bitter jealousy.

"Kate – my sister – you're fine. Finish eating. I'll send her away."

"Send her away?"

An insistent knock.

"Coming!" Panther cast one glance at me and shrugged. "All right. I won't send her away." And he walked to the door, twisting the knob to pull it open. A young, fashionably dressed woman stood there with long dark hair like Panther's pulled up into a frazzled bun, lips curving into a smile at the sight of him – and widening when she spotted me on the couch in my towel.

"Kitten, who's the friend?" Kate asked loudly, pushing past him to get into the room and kicking off her stilettos. "She's darling. I'm Kate Owens, Panther's younger sister. How do you do?"

"I do fine."

"What?"

"She's fine," Panther glared at me; I stuck out my tongue and set to finishing my breakfast. Kate let out a soft, golden laugh.

"Is this your girlfriend?"

I choked; Panther made a strange noise. "Uh, well, I asked her to be my girlfriend, but that was yesterday…"

We exchanged glances.

Kate looked between us, confused. "It's on a day-to-day basis? I'm not going to ask. How long have you known Panther, uh…."

OH.

"I'm Patricia Williams. Call me…"

"Clara." Panther interjected.

I glared and opened my mouth to argue but Kate clapped her hands gleefully, large smile back on her face. "What a darling name! Clara is such a nice name."

Panther rolled his eyes.

I choked back a laugh and answered Kate's first question softly. "I've known him two days."

She blinks. "Days? Two? Seriously?" She turned to her brother, dark brows drawn into a tight V. "Two days, Kitten?"

"Don't call me that."

"Younger sister duty number one: annoy. Spill, or I switch to Kitty."

"Yes, two days, Kate! Now sit down. Sit." He ushered Kate into a chair and sat next to her, sighing loudly. "Why are you even here?"

"Well," her smile stretched evilly, eyes sparkling. "I was coming to make sure you remembered the family reunion," her eyes flicked over to me, "and to invite your darling girlfriend."

"Oh, uh, no," I started, but she cut me off.

"I won't say anything about the two days. For all I know, you've known each other years." She gave me a serious look. "And not a word about the towel." I flushed red. "Come on. What else are you doing today?"

Her blue eyes bored into mine, driving all the excuses I had lined up to the back of my mind so I sat there, mouth moving like a fish out of water. "Katie," Panther said soothingly, "I don't think she wants to come."

"I think she does, don't you?" Kate's eyes burned a whole in my forehead.

"Uh, s-sure…"

"See?"

"Katie…"

"Don't Katie me! Panther, do you know how happy Mama will be if you bring her? Look at her! She's gorgeous! And IN A TOWEL ON YOUR COUCH. Come on! Just say yes! Bring her!"

Panther looked pained as he hung his head. "Miss Clara has nothing to wear…" he said weakly.

Kate waved her hands. "Nonsense. We'll stop by my apartment and make her beautiful. It will be a wonderful time. Well! Come on! Get ready, slow pokes! I'm calling Mama!" She flipped her phone out of her little clasp purse attached to her arm and speed dialed.

Panther exchanged a glance with me, the message clear.

She's like Tracey!