Dead By Dusk by Heather Graham

has a great skirt, but some really silly stockings. We’ll all see the costumes soon. Drew—you’re the want-to-be guy. You’re president of the club, but most of your adventures are made up, and you can add to the outrageous lines of your stories at any time, okay?”
    â€œI like it. Horn-rimmed glasses?”
    â€œYou bet. Coke-bottle lenses,” Stephanie assured him.
    â€œLena, you’re Drew’s cohort in the area of creativity—the only reason you’re back in Southern Italy is a family connection, but you like to pretend that you’ve been to the farthest reaches of the earth. You’re the one down on everyone else’s antics, dying for a little more sex in your own life.”
    â€œWow! It’s my real life story!” Lena said, and the others laughed. She might have been afraid that she was getting too much agreement and sympathy, because she quickly added, “Hey, my family is in the Milano area, and I’m not really down on fun, and my sex life has gone along just swimmingly, okay? And hey, be nice to me. I’m the only one in this crowd who does speak fluent Italian.”
    â€œI’ll be as nice as you can imagine! And you can ask me for help anytime you feel that the sex life is a disaster,” Doug offered.
    â€œSo I can feel that it’s really hit rock bottom?” Lena teased.
    â€œOuch! I feel like . . . well, like my character,” he said, grinning at Stephanie dryly.
    â€œThat’s right. Poor Doug is to be known as Poindexter. A brilliant scholar, but a nerd in the worst degree. The others can’t imagine that you even got into the club. They’re jealous as well, though, because your exploits are all real. When Gema shows up, she’s the vamp. She really has been everywhere, and what she misses is a real home. Her efforts for an actual love life have basically sucked, and the rest of you try to help her retain dignity. Literally, at times, pulling her away from the guys in the audience she uses for her little schticks.”
    She stopped speaking, looking up as Arturo returned to the back of the café. She arched a brow to him.
    He shook his head.
    â€œWell, so far, Gema is a no-show,” she murmured.
    â€œAnd Clay,” Drew reminded her, frowning.
    â€œHe’ll be here soon—we know that,” Stephanie said. “Let’s go ahead and read through the outlines, see how they sound, bounce ideas back and forth with one another.”
    The four were a good group; Stephanie acted as both still-missing Gema and just-not-present Clay, and she was more pleased as the minutes ticked by. Her cast appeared to be excellent natural comedians, quick to see how to milk any idea. She reminded them several times that they were to play with their audience, and, as they moved into the fifth scenario, they reminded her.
    â€œSo,” Drew said when they had finished with the next to the last scene, “Clay Barton gets to have all the real fun, huh?”
    â€œYes, and no,” Stephanie agreed, idly drawing a line with her pencil and smiling as she answered him. “He’s the swaggerer. He has been around, but he hasn’t really got any money, and when his conquests don’t work out, he tries to pretend that they have.”
    â€œSo . . . he is supposed to be the good-looking one, huh?” Doug said with a sigh.
    â€œHopefully, a team like this works so well that after we get going, we’ll switch roles around as well as scenarios,” Stephanie told him. “No one gets stale, and anyone can fill in for anyone else. Normally, we’d have a few more cast members, but since we’re just starting out with this, we’re forming the company. Of course, it would help if we had the full group.” Arturo had been sitting at the back of the café. She looked over, and didn’t see him. Maybe he’d gone in search of Gema again.
    As she stared toward the table,