The best way to get a girl off of his mind was to lose himself in another one. He couldn't say for certain that this particular girl had been the right choice, but the prospect had been far too sweet to rationalize his way out of. She was about five foot seven with killer legs, voluptuous breasts, and a mouth that promised a good time. Her name was Abby Foardes and it had taken exactly thirty-nine minutes to talk her out of her clothes. He considered it a new record. He smiled as he watched her sleeping next to him. A few lingering touches and she had lit up like a Christmas tree. When he was good, he was damn impressive.

She had the beige sheet wrapped around her willowy frame, but the material was practically see-through so he took his time inspecting every inch of her. He crawled closer to her and kissed each of her shoulders, his lips brushing across her skin. He applied just enough pressure to rouse her from her sleep. There was a lot on the agenda today, and she had already been here longer than he preferred. He had to meet Cruz for breakfast this morning to give him the shots he'd taken of Robin's bakery. Just thinking about her caused his mouth to go dry. He had exhausted himself last night with a complete stranger, and yet, the moment he opened his eyes, of course she was the first thought he had. Grumbling, he threw the sheet away, stirring the woman in his bed.

"Good morning." Abby yawned, stretching so that the sheet fell away from her naked body. Patrick barely glanced up, his attention span growing shorter and shorter with each woman he bedded. He kept picking up the exact same woman. She was always tall and lanky with a to-die-for body. She always laughed at the poor effort he put into his jokes. More often than not, she was a wannabe actress with hopes of sleeping with a world-famous director in case it was discovered that she couldn't act. Her other alternative was always to land a spot on a reality show. All that ever changed was her name. Patrick rubbed his forehead.

"Yeah, morning." Patrick mumbled automatically, selecting a comfortable t-shirt from his closet and a pair of form-fitting jeans.

"What are you doing up this early? Come back to bed." Abby cajoled, crawling across the bed until she reached the end of it.

"I have to go. Can you let yourself out?" Patrick asked instead, dropping his clothes next to his most recent conquest.

Abby pouted. "Why don't you come back to bed? I promise I'll make it worth your while." Great, now she was a whore. Just what he didn't need.

"I don't doubt it." Patrick forced a sexy smile. He kissed her forehead much like he would a child. "But I have to go to work and I want you to leave."

"If I leave, I won't be coming back." Abby warned.

Patrick chuckled at her. "I'm counting on that." Her reaction didn't surprise him. She grabbed her clothes, kicked him in the shin, and stormed out of the studio. That had been almost as easy as she was.

When he reached Bobbie's house, he was whistling a happy tune. Last night had given him a much-needed ego boost. He couldn't believe he had gone a whole week without sex. Some things should just not be allowed. He wiped his black loafers on the Welcome mat provided, a habit that his relatives had instilled in him at an early age. Luke had found it absolutely hysterical, especially when Patrick explained what had happened the one time he hadn't used the mat. He had spent all day outside during a wet, miserable day and then trudged into Bobbie's house. She had handed him a toothbrush that he swore to this day had looked an awful lot like the one she kept for him and forced him to get down on his hands and knees and scrub at the black mess his boots had inflicted upon the unsuspecting ivory-white carpet.

He hadn't knocked a day in his life and he wasn't going to start now. Maybe if he had at least attempted it, he would have given himself some time to prepare for the guest that was sitting on his aunt's blue and white flower speckled couch. Bobbie greeted him with a perfect white smile, but a quick glance to his left proved that every member of his inner circle was friendly toward Robin. He opened his mouth only to close it, his eyes going from his aunt to Robin Scorpio. What the hell was she doing here? Why was she everywhere he went? Had Cruz spiked his black coffee this morning at breakfast? There was really no telling with that friend of his. Why else would he think he saw Robin mere feet from him? It was all a trick of the mind. He closed his eyes and then opened them slowly, hoping his eyes would be met with someone else, anyone else. Robin looked at him quizzically.

"Patrick?" Bobbie titled her head to the left. "Patrick, are you Okay honey?"

"Fine." Patrick replied, though he wasn't completely sure he was. He suddenly wanted to hold onto something. Or sit. Maybe he should sit down. Bobbie led him to the couch, putting him and Robin shoulder-to-shoulder. He must have been at least partially out of it, because he didn't notice this at first.

"Not that I mind but to what do I owe this pleasure?" Bobbie sat down in the overstuffed chair next to them, smiling sweetly.

"Cruz." Patrick said quietly, handing her a brown envelope his friend had asked that he drop off on his way to the police station. The police station. Emily Quartermaine. Crazy. Robin Scorpio. Especially striking in her buttercup yellow dress and brown knee-high boots.

"Your friend? Why would Cruz be sending me something?" Bobbie took the envelope and opened it carefully, pulling out a single sheet of paper.

"He wanted me to give this to you. It's the approval for your ad...for Eat & Greet...your business?" Please understand, he silently begged. He didn't think he could go into more detail. In fact, it was rather hard for him to form a complete sentence. Robin must have found this incredibly amusing. That thought sobered him. No way was he going to come off looking like a dork in her presence!

"That was nice of him. He really didn't have to do that. He really is an extremely talented young man."

"Yep. What is she doing here?" He asked carefully, not missing the stern expression Robin sent his way. He wanted to smile, but Bobbie probably would have popped him in the back of the head for it.

"Why are you talking about me like I'm not here?" Robin demanded, her voice only rising slightly. She had to keep those impeccable manners in front of her hostess, Patrick realized.

"But you are here, Miss Scorpio." Patrick reminded her. "Therein lies the problem." He went on.

"I work with Robin, Patrick. We happen to be planning a wedding." Bobbie's voice had the smallest hint of a reprimand in it had Patrick actually been paying attention to her.

"Yes, so if you'll be on your way, Drake." Robin muttered a plastered smile on her face.

"Is this your home? My mistake." Patrick put his hand over his heart.

"That pink room upstairs belongs to you? I had no idea." Robin teased.

"He found it quite comfortable when he was younger." Bobbie laughed.

"Why am I not surprised by that?" Robin smirked, tilting her head at Patrick's narrowing eyes.

"Bobbie, is it really necessary for you to bring strays home?" Patrick wondered.

"But where would you stay?" Robin chimed in.

"Poor little Robin has to spend time with other people's family, because she doesn't have one of her own." Patrick countered, folding his arms.

Robin wasn't going to take the bait. No matter what he said to her, she was not going to reprimand him in front of Bobbie. Who the hell did he think he was, judging her? She wanted to respond a million different ways, but instead she gripped her yellow legal pad to her chest and played hurt. Bobbie would surely consider her the victim in all of this and then she would throw him out on his big head! They had work to do, and he was being unreasonable. Just because the man could fill out a pair of swimming trunks did not make him a decent human being.

"I suppose I have been showing up in the same circles as you lately." Robin reasoned softly.

"It's a small town and you do share many friends. It was bound to happen." Bobbie smiled. "Patrick, can I get you some coffee or something?"

"I can get it. I don't want to...interrupt your little meeting." Patrick said, moving toward the kitchen.

Robin watched his retreating back with dark eyes. "Where were we?"

"You were going to explain to me how you managed to get her to narrow her list to only fifty cake designs when I can't get her to narrow it down to one season out of four!" Bobbie leaned forward laughing.

"It's all about how you--" Robin began, not noticing Patrick emerge from the kitchen, his hands still empty.

"I'm sorry, but, of all the people in this town, why do you have to work with her?" He snapped, frowning at Robin's instant smile.

There, she thought. There was the Patrick Drake she knew and loathed. It had only been a matter of time.

"Patrick!" Bobbie's head whipped up, her red hair flying. "I know you know better than that."

"Sometimes people surprise you." Patrick responded, a note of disgust in his voice.

Bobbie stood up, steeling her gaze at her nephew. She gave him a look perfected over years of baby-sitting her rowdy nephews and raising her own son. It screamed Do Not Go Any Farther. "You are on thin ice here Patrick." Her voice had the edge of warning that any other day he would have paid attention to.

"Are you going to send me to bed without dinner?" Patrick asked incredulous. How could she be siding with that woman?

Robin stood up, her hands on her hips. She was shaking she was so angry.

"Shut your mouth." He warned Robin, catching the intent look in her gaze. "Just stay out of this. Mind your own business for once."

"Me? What about you? I've never heard a man talk to his aunt this way!" Robin shot back, her vision swimming.

"Get out of my house. Can't you see you're not welcome here?" Patrick challenged, his voice rising a few decibels.

"This isn't your house."

"Get out!"

"I was invited!"

"That's enough!" Bobbie crossed her arms over her chest, her green eyes flashing. She crossed the small distance to where Patrick stood, stopping only when she stood directly in front of him. "You will apologize to Robin right now."

"For what?" Patrick roared.

"For acting worse than my five-year-old grandson."

"I'm justified!" He argued, nodding in Robin's general direction.

Robin mimicked.

Bobbie held up her finger. "Robin is my invited guest and my colleague. You will apologize."

"No, I don't believe I will." Patrick's eyes flashed at the very thought.

"I should just go." Robin declared.

"That's the best thing you've said all morning." Patrick replied.

Bobbie turned and faced Robin. "Robin sit down; we still have a wedding to plan." Just as quickly she turned to her nephew. "Patrick Noah Drake, I know your mother raised you better than this. Apologize or you can leave right now."

"Why do I have to apologize?"

"For being rude to my guest."

"How can you look at her after what she did to Logan?" Patrick retorted.

"What I did?" Robin stared at him, her mouth agape. "What exactly did I do to your precious baby brother?"

"You took away his pride."

"What pride? He'd drink himself into a stupor and then stumble in at all hours of the night."

"I can't say I blame him for staying drunk when you were what he had to come home to."

"Patrick Noah Drake! You can leave right now." Bobbie's look shot daggers in his direction.

"Don't mind if I do. It's not like there's any loyalty to be found here." With that, he turned on his heel and left.

Robin returned to the couch and gathered her yellow legal pad. "I--should just go, Bobbie." Her voice was trembling, but she didn't care.

"Robin, stay. My nephew was horridly out of line and I still need your help in planning the wedding of the century." Bobbie's eyes softened as she looked at Robin. "And I for one don't blame you for choices Logan made. And neither does the rest of the family."

"I really think it'd be best if I go. We'll look at this tomorrow. It's not like she's in any hurry to get married." Robin concentrated on her hands. It was just easier than facing the pity she would find in Bobbie's gaze.

"Well not today she isn't." Bobbie moved towards Robin and opened her arms. "Come here and give me a hug if you are so determined to go. When we reschedule we will just have to work twice as long."

"I'm sorry. I'm a mess." Robin fell into Bobbie's arms, her voice and her body trembling.

She caught sight of something that looked oddly familiar. Black and shiny and thin. Why, that son of a bitch had forgotten his cell phone. Well, she'd just have to return it to him. In person, she decided. She hugged Bobbie a second longer and moved past the table, secretly knocking the rectangular box into the pocket of her dress. She waved to Bobbie and retreated to her car.