3. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

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"Rosanna?"

The blank look on her sister's face was equal parts confusion, delight, reservation and disbelief. Rosanna squared her shoulders and put on her best smile under the circumstance. "Yes, that's me!" she declared unnecessarily.

"Of course, that's you." After a moment's hesitation, Carly briefly wrapped her arms around the visitor on her doorstep before stepping back to look into the eyes just a shade or two lighter than her own. "Rosanna."

"Marriage agrees with you," she said sincerely. There was no denying that, even to herself. Others saw the classic blonde, blue-eyed, American ideal, or the raw physical come-hither sexuality. Rosanna saw the finer points-the cheekbones, the angle of her chin, the graceful artistic hands. She envied them not because they were "perfect"-but because they were so unmistakably her mother's features. Not that Carly would know that, having refused all the offers Rosanna made over the years to see the photos and home movies.

Children could be so unforgiving, Rosanna thought bitterly.

Driving over here, she came up with excuse after excuse. Craig was simply wrong. What he'd seen-Carly and Lily in the children's store in the mall, laughing over baby outfits-he'd misinterpreted. That she'd just found out; not nearly as long ago as Craig claimed. Or even that Carly was being circumspect in the wake of the Janet debacle (another charming bit of gossip Craig, not Carly, had shared with her...) and delayed telling even her husband about their good fortune. Excluding her sister for the understandable reason of informing the father first.

Or maybe she'd "accidentally" have the doctor's office call and leave a message about an appointment. After which her Detective Husband would track her to and confront her with, until she broke down and admitted the truth.

That was an old trick from her bag of them, Rosanna remembered indignantly. Surely that was in the Liar's Hall of Fame by now. Her crafty sister didn't need to rely on old ploys-her gift was in her ability to innovate. New Husband. New Child. New Lie.

If not for Gwen's assurances...Rosanna might have wondered if Carly had spent her last night as a "free" woman in someone else's arms.

Ashamed of that vile thought, Rosanna had vowed to give Carly a chance to explain.

That vaporized with the awkward reception on the Milltown porch. She analyzed every self-conscious movement Carly made: the hesitant embrace, the embarrassed flush, the twitchy hair flip and way she crossed her arms defensively as she stood in the doorway, forgetting to invite her sister in. If you knew Carly well enough, her body language gave her away.

"I had no idea you were coming back to town so soon!" Carly rarely felt tongue-tied, but her sister materializing after her confab with Lily freaked her out. "Is it a business trip?" she asked, unclear about why her normally proper, etiquette-driven sister had simply appeared on her doorstep.

"I missed my family." Mortified at how vulnerable she sounded, Rosanna took a page out of her sister's playbook and concocted. "I am exploring a couple of offers. I lied and told my office it was a personal visit."

"Is that wise? I mean, aren't you under contract? You've barely had that job six months."

"I'm well aware of why and how long I've been in Europe," Rosanna replied frostily.

"Aunt Rosanna!"

Carly breathed a sigh of relief as Sage bound down the stairs, eager to say hello.

"How long are you staying?" Sage asked breathlessly, pulling Rosanna inside, sitting on the arm of the couch while Rosanna sat in the nearby chair.

"I...I don't know," she replied, fluttering her eyelashes at the first prickling of tears. She didn't doubt the affection in her niece's voice for a moment. Or from Parker and JJ for that matter.

"Did Mom tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Carly paled. "Sage," she interrupted, firmly grasping her shoulders to pull her back-literally and figuratively. "Why don't you get your Aunt's luggage from the car and take it upstairs to the guest room? We'll let her rest a bit while we go get supper. We ordered pizza, but we'd be happy to get you whatever you'd like. Just say the word!"

"That won't be necessary," Rosanna demurred.

"I'm sure I can scare up something better than airplane food," Carly assured her half-heartedly.

"No, I meant my luggage isn't in the car. I dropped it at the Lakeview."

"Really?" A familiar unease settled in her gut. "Sage, could you go upstairs and call your Dad? Ask him what he'd like on his pizza."

"But we already ordered."

"We can add to it if he's in the mood for something else. Please?" she added sternly, making her request non-negotiable. "So...you just pop in town for a visit? Drop off your bags at the Lakeview? Where? At the foot of Craig's bed?" Carly asked as soon as Sage disappeared up the stairs.

"Being happily married, how is that any of your business?"

"Rosanna, are you insane? Stay far, far away from him! Haven't your last two go-rounds taught you a damned thing? Did you know he stole Parker's trust? Every last dime, Rosanna. He is an amoral, lying slug who ought to be rotting in prison for the rest of his unnatural life!"

Seething at how nimbly Carly could turn the tables and attack, Rosanna replied acidly, "Yes...Craig filled me in. He risked humiliation in service of making all your dreams come true." The irony was overwhelming. While she hated what Craig had done, all he'd accomplished was driving Carly back into Jack's arms. And now they were living happily. ever. after.

"Oh, bullshit!" Carly exclaimed.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me Rosanna! Bullshit. It is what it is. Scheming, manipulative and selfish. He wanted back into my life. He knew Jack's marriage was on the rocks and he knew-"

"You're obsessed with getting in Jack's bed?"

Carly recoiled at the harshness in her sister's voice. "I was going to say, there was no way I would have anything to with him after his affair with you." If Rosanna wanted to play tit-for-tat, Carly had no problem swinging away. "So when I thought I lost another chance with Jack, there he was. Ready to pounce. And it almost cost me everything. Again."

"So...when Craig was showering you with all of his worldly possessions, that was okay? It's when he started borrowing from Parker's trust that you developed this moral aversion to him?"

"He assured me it was business!"

"And all your outrage over Craig's deviousness melted away? Like that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That much like Craig, you always have an angle, Carly. You're never as naive as you claim to be-you needed a way to get Jack's attention and damned if one didn't materialize. If it hadn't been Craig, it would have been someone else. There's always someone waiting to pick up the pieces for you!"

For the millionth time, Carly cursed the day she met Craig in Hong Kong. "So-you think I sacrificed Parker's trust to get Jack's attention? After everything Craig did to hide it from me for months-you're blaming me?"

"Yes." She caught the way Carly flinched at the word. Instead of feeling justified, Rosanna felt contempt wash over her. She wasn't even sure how this argument blew up the way it did. That was a lie. She envied her sister's life again. A year ago, with Carly in rehab, she'd immersed herself in the day-to-day rhythm of raising a family. Each morning facing a new set of challenges; never a dull moment; no two days alike.

She'd never felt that sense of belonging before. At least not since before her mother died. Self-exiled in Germany, she felt the hollowness in her life more each day.

"Get out." Carly stood in the open doorway, a glacial chilliness setting every muscle into a rigid line.

"Carly, I'm sorry..."

"I don't want your apologies, Rosebud. I want you to leave. I can't deal with this-or you-right now."

Reluctantly, Rosanna withdrew, stepping out onto porch. "Carly...I-"

"Rosanna, Craig is a leech. He will always be a leech. And when he's done sucking every last drop of blood from you, he'll disappear into the primordial ooze he came from, ready to suck the life out of his next victim. Consider yourself warned."

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Sitting behind her antique walnut desk at WorldWide, Lily glanced at her watch and stuffed one last file into her briefcase before calling it quits.

"I thought I was the only one here on the weekends."

Looking up, she found Dusty leaning against the door jamb. The normally taciturn and scowling "man in black" who roamed WorldWide's halls had been replaced by a beaming man in bluejeans and t-shirt emblazoned with "Proud Papa". "That's quite a fashion statement," Lily needled.

"The kid throws up on everything," Dusty replied. "This is the only thing left in my closet."

"If your grin gets any bigger, your face might break."

"It's been good," Dusty chuckled. "I can't believe he's a month old already."

"It looks good on you, Dusty." Indeed, Lily couldn't remember the last time Dusty had seemed so carefree. Even when they were teens, he had a serious, world-weary air about him. "Why are you working on the weekend?"

"I'm actually glad I ran into you," he replied, taking a seat. "Saves me the trouble of calling you."

"About what?" Since her mother's departure last month, Lily had covered Dusty's C.E.O. duties in the day to day operations.

"I got a hot property I think WorldWide could pick up for a song. Established brand, decent market share, owners motivated to sell."

"This is perfect for WorldWide because...?"

"Because it's right here in Oakdale. Barbara told me last night-she and Paul have dissolved their partnership. B.R.O. is done."

"That's surprising."

"I never thought Paulie would cut the apron strings."

Lily ignored the disparaging remark. Paul and Dusty irritated each other. It was best not to get sucked into the fray. "Do you think this is the right time to expand into the fashion market?"

"I think the potential is there. I know B.R.O. stagnated in recent years, but Barbara's attention was split. She let things slide."

"You seem convinced already. Why run it past me?"

"I need you to finesse me a designer," Dusty bluntly replied.

"How am I supposed to do-" Lily's eyes widened. "You couldn't possibly mean Carly. 'Cause that would just be impossible."

"For me? Sure. Jack would take my head off and throw me out of his house. But you..? The worst he'd do is refuse to share his Snyder Cider."

"First, Jack wouldn't stand in Carly's way. But frankly, after the perfume debacle, I'm not sure Carly's up for another business venture. Especially now. I know she's pregnant. I'm surprised you'd want her, given her colorful past."

"Yeah, she told us. I know she's got a reputation. Who doesn't?...but she's never had a stable organization backing her. Between Craig and Paul, it's a wonder she got anything accomplished at all. I need to know if she's interested. And between Jack and Janet, I think she'd be leary of any offer I made. On the other hand, if her good friend Lily comes to her-"

"Oh, no...I've played this game before. With Craig-"

"Don't compare this to whatever deal you had with Craig. Nothing with Craig is ever straightforward. Something you should have remembered, Lil'," Dusty reminded her curtly.

"Why Carly? You could have any designer you wanted. I'm not disparaging Carly here-but like you said, you and Janet have a history with Carly and Jack. This is bound to aggravate all of that."

"'Cause I think she got a raw deal. Getting caught between that bastard Craig and Lucinda, Carly got steamrolled. I'm surprised you haven't tried to make it up to her. Call it a reward for snagging Jack and freeing Janet. Who knows how long that marriage would have limped along if she hadn't come by with her sledgehammer."

"I'm sure you would have thought of something," Lily admonished. "I have thought long and hard about trying to revive our perfume company," Lily shrugged. "Is Carly's participation a dealbreaker?"

"No," Dusty shook his head. "I'm just willing to give her the first crack at it. If she passes, that's her choice. But something tells me she'll jump at it."

"And why's that?"

"Because gamblers let it ride. And Carly's on a roll."

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Sooner than expected, there was a rapid succession of knocks on Craig's door. He let it continue, lingering at his desk as he methodically shut down his computer, straightened his desk, checked his calendar for the morning and then carefully removed his jacket and hung it over the wooden valet in his closet.

Another sharp series of raps brought out a thin-lipped smile.

"Damn it, Craig! I know you're in there."

Jerking the door open, he was pushed back a step as Rosanna barreled into the room. "Lovely to see you," he mocked dryly as he closed the door.

"Shut up!" she ordered. "Anyone ever told you you're a bastard?"

"Numerous people on numerous occasions."

"Tell me Johnny's at that play date you mentioned this morning," she said, unbuttoning the cuffs of her silk blouse and pulling it free from the waistband of her skirt.

"Johnny's at his playdate," Craig complied.

"Good". Rosanna wound her arm around his neck, kissing him hard. "So are you."

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Ander's strong, muscular hands worked out the last kink, eliciting a gratified purr. Other than her strange stipulation he answer to "Sven", Ms. Walsh was an excellent client. What did he care what she called him as a long as she kept up her weekly appointments and tipped him well.

"I think that's all for today, Sven." Nimbly sitting up, she gathered the sheet around her body. "Doctor Dixon sends his regrets. He'll probably need extra attention next week. His creaky old bones being as they are," she suppositioned with a throaty laugh. "If the old goat complains too much, I may call before that."

"Yes, Ms. Walsh. Call the desk. You have my cellular number as well?"

"Yes, of course."

"I wish you good evening," the massuer stated rather formally, unused to the informal American-isms his co-workers used.

"Good night, Sven," Lucinda replied, closing the door to their Lakeview suite as he exited. Sighing, she leaned against the door contentedly. She considered it silly to keep this comparatively shabby "love nest" when she had a perfectly spectacular twenty room mansion on the other side of town, but John had insisted. It was cozy, Lucinda conceded. At some point, they'd need neutral corners anyway, being the headstrong persons they were.

Having dressed, she debated ordering dinner. That was the one thing she missed dearly-Cook was head and shoulders above whoever the Lakeview employed. Her entire staff was.

The muffled sound of her Blackberry chirped from her purse. "Lucinda Walsh," she answered point-blank, not bothering to check the caller ID. Only a select few had this number. Anyone who did had it for a good reason.

"It's Donaldson, ma'am. You wanted to know when-"

"Yes, yes-" she interrupted hastily. "I take it there is some news to report?"

"Yes ma'am. Very good news."

Smiling broadly, Lucinda shook her fist in the air. "Finally!"