Dating Game by Danielle Steel

her hair out of the ponytail she'd worn all day at work, and letting her long hair fall over her shoulders and down her back. It was even longer than her mother's, and made her look like a little girl to Paris once she let it loose. She was a spectacular-looking girl, every bit as beautiful as the actresses on the set, but she had no interest in that. She was wearing a halter top, flip-flops, and jeans, her uniform for work. “Was he decent?” Meg asked, looking worried. She was sure it had been a strain on her mom, even though when he'd called, Wim had said they'd been fine. But he was only eighteen, and missed the subtleties sometimes.
    “It was okay,” Paris said, looking tired, and taking a sip of the iced tea. “He was very nice. It was good for Wim.”
    “And for you?”
    Paris sighed. She could be honest with Meg. She always was. As much as mother and daughter, they were friends, and had always been. They had had almost none of the strife that comes with the teenage years. Meg had always been reasonable and willing to talk about things, unlike most of her peers. Paris's friends said she didn't know how blessed she was, but she did, even more so now. Meg had been her greatest source of support since Peter left, almost like a mother instead of a child. But she was no longer a child. She was a woman, and Paris respected her opinions.
    “To be honest, it was hard. He looks like he always did. I see him, and part of me thinks we're still married, and technically we are. It's so weird, and so hard to understand that he's not part of my life anymore. It was probably hard for him too. But this is what he wants. He made that clear again. I don't know what happened. I wish I did. I wish I knew where I went wrong, where I failed, what I did or didn't do. …I must have done something. You don't just wake up one day and leave. Or maybe you do. I don't know….I don't think I'll ever understand it. Or get over it,” she said sadly, as the sun glinted on her golden hair.
    “You were a good sport to let him go to Berkeley with you.” Meg admired her a lot, and especially the dignity with which she was facing the divorce. Paris felt she had no other choice. She didn't hate him, even now. And she knew she had to survive it, whatever it took. For the moment, it was taking every ounce of courage she had.
    “It was right for him to be there. It made Wim really happy.” And then she told Meg about the college scene at Berkeley, his roommates, his dorm. “He looked so cute when I left. I hated to go. I'm going to hate it even more when I go back to Greenwich. I'm starting some volunteer work in September.”
    “I still think your shrink is right, and you should move out.”
    “Maybe,” Paris said thoughtfully, but she didn't sound convinced. “So what about you? What's the new boyfriend like? Is he cute?” Meg laughed in answer.
    “I think he is. Maybe you won't. He's kind of a free spirit. He was born in a commune in San Francisco, and he grew up in Hawaii. We get along pretty well. He's coming over later, after dinner. I told him I wanted some time alone with you first.” Meg loved spending time with her mother, and she knew she wouldn't be in town for long.
    “What's his name? I don't think you told me.” So much had happened lately, they hadn't talked about the new boyfriend much, and Meg smiled.
    “Peace.”
    “Peace?” Paris looked startled, and Meg laughed.
    “Yeah. I know. Actually, it suits him. Peace Jones. It's a great name for an actor. No one ever forgets it. He wants to do martial arts movies, but he's still stuck in horror films for now. He's got a great look. His mother is Eurasian, and his father was black. He is the most incredible mix of exotic-looking people. He looks sort of Mexican, with big sloping eyes.”
    “He sounds interesting,” Paris said, trying to keep an open mind. But even at its most open, her mind was not prepared for Peace Jones when he arrived. He was everything Meg had said,