Dying to Have Her by Heather Graham Page A

out on me— now! After—”
    “Seems as good a time as any.”
    “This is your house!”
    “Yes. Lock the door when you leave, please.”
    She wasn’t even sure what she called him then. A number of things. She wasn’t sure what he said back to her—he was already on his way out.
    “Serena,” Jennifer said. “Serena!” she persisted, jolting her back to the present. “Talk to me. Tell me what happened. I’m your best friend and you lied to me.”
    “I didn’t lie to you—it wasn’t working.”
    “Why?”
    “He didn’t like my schedule.”
    “Really?” Jennifer said skeptically. “It was that simple?” Then her eyes opened even more widely. “Serena, you didn’t … you didn’t go running out on him in … in the middle of something?”
    Serena was appalled that she could flush so easily. “No.”
    She had left Liam’s house in tears, still believing he would call, apologize.
    He didn’t.
    And she had never picked up the phone to call him. He had meant what he had said. He was out of her life. She’d left a few things at his place. A robe, a few shirts, jeans, makeup. He’d packed them all up neatly—and used Fed Ex to get them back to her. She’d left one message on his machine, informing him that he was a rude, unreasonable asshole and she never wanted to see him again. He left her a message in return, telling her he’d do his best to oblige.
    She’d never felt so lost and alone in her life.
    He had hurt her ego. She hadn’t been so rudely dumped in—forever. But it wasn’t her pride that hurt so badly. She had fallen in love with him. She hadn’t really wanted to go tramping in the Southwest wilderness, but she had loved the idea of diving trips to out islands, of simple days of just being with him. She had loved the sound of his voice, his laughter, his touch, the way he looked sleeping, and awake. The feel of his arms …
    But she hadn’t been wrong; she was certain of that. She was an actress, and she had a right to be an actress. She felt strongly that every woman had a right, to a career, just as every woman had the right not to have a career if she chose to stay home and manage a household and raise her children.
    “I think he wounded your ego,” Jennifer said.
    “Hey, this is Hollywood, remember? I know the ropes—it’s like majoring in rejection. You know that.” Her friend was still staring at her. “Jen, it just wasn’t working. He was always a cop first.”
    “He’s not a cop anymore.”
    “Private investigator. The same, but worse. It’s not just that. I don’t like the things he does in his free time. Camping. Yuck. Bugs and smelly sleeping bags. And besides, he’s seeing someone. And I …”
    The thought trailed off. I’ll never set myself up for a fall like that again.
    There was a tap on her door. Jennifer leaped to her feet, ready to shush anyone coming in loudly. Serena walked to the door, ready to throw it open and accost Liam.
    But it wasn’t Liam. Doug was standing there, well dressed and handsome as usual, but wearing his sunglasses. Inside.
    “Doug! Hey, come in.”
    “Quietly,” Jennifer warned.
    He stepped in, closed the door, and headed right for the sofa. He sat. They both stared at him. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me how my night at Kyle’s place went?”
    “Oh! Yes, of course,” Serena said. She’d forgotten that he’d gone to Kyle Amesbury’s place.
    “Kyle’s place?” Jennifer said suspiciously.
    “We ran into Kyle Amesbury—now in charge of whether or not his company continues to give us our advertising dollars,” Serena explained.
    Doug leaned his head on Jennifer’s shoulder. “They sent me off like a virgin lamb to slaughter,” he said.
    “Yeah, right, virgin lamb,” Serena murmured. Her hands were still shaking. She had to get a grip on everything going on here.
    “She can be cruel,” he whined to Jennifer.
    “Doug, how did your night go?” She pressed.
    “Great. I had a wonderful time. And I