Chapter One
“Man, is it always this hot in Texas?”
Amber McCloud stowed her suitcase in the trunk of Molly Trajan’s candy-apple-red Mustang and slid into the front seat, positioning the air-conditioning vents so they blew directly on her damp skin.
Molly laughed as she pulled out into the flow of exiting traffic. “Honey, you’re spoiled by all that chilled air up north. If you’re going to be here for a couple of weeks you need to toughen up.”
Amber fanned herself. “Maybe I should have planned this visit for the winter.” She glanced sideways at her friend. “Molly, I want to be very clear about something. I really, really appreciate you letting me dump myself on you while I try to put myself back together. I need the distance from New York and…and…everything else.”
Molly reached over and squeezed her arm. “What are friends for? Sweetie, we’ve known each other for twenty-seven years, ever since freshman year in college. I would be highly offended if you chose someone else.” She paused. “Besides, been there, done that. So it’s all good.”
“Does Nick… Did you tell him what’s going on?”
Amber was totally aware of how ecstatic Molly was in her second marriage, with the man of her dreams. A younger man who adored her. All the things that were missing in her first marriage, she’d found with Nick, and more.
“Only the basics,” Molly said.
Amber bit her lip. “I just don’t want him to look at me with the awful, pitying look I was getting from our so-called friends in New York.”
Molly snorted. “Let me tell you, pity is the last thing you’ll see. If I let him off the leash he’d be on the next plane east to beat the shit out of Dennis McCloud. Believe me, he thinks men like that are scum.”
Amber wouldn’t have minded getting in a few licks herself. After fifteen years of marriage Dennis had somehow woken up one day and decided she was too flawed, too shopworn, too—whatever. He needed a re-engineered model to present the right image to his high-profile clients and the moneyed crowd they ran with.
Oh, he didn’t want much. A boob job. A butt lift. A facelift. Her teeth capped. Something that would take twenty years off her age.
“Nearly all your friends have done it,” he pointed out in a reasonable voice. “They understand what’s important.”
At first she’d been so shocked she hadn’t known what to say. She hadn’t even pointed out to him that the women in their crowd were hardly her friends. In fact, if she was truthful, she couldn’t think of one real friend she’d made since moving to the city. Most of her girl talk was via telephone with Molly.
Eventually she sank into a fit of depression until anger finally took over.
“Maybe you should get yourself someone already young enough for your specifications,” she spat at him.
Which was exactly what he did after a thoroughly nasty divorce.
Now Amber was trying to pick up the pieces of her life and stitch back together her shattered self-esteem. Not only was Molly her oldest and closest friend but she’d been through the same thing herself. And come out of it a real winner. She needed Molly’s humor and common sense and cheerleading. And the isolation of her home to hide from the world while she got her act together.
“I don’t want to make any kind of plans,” she said now. “Just take it day by day. All right?”
“Sure, honey. But you know Nick and I both work from home, right?”
Nick was a highly sought-after architect and Molly had found a new career in interior design. They often worked together on projects.
“Yes, but you meet clients in the office space you share in downtown San Antonio. Right?” She didn’t think she could handle strangers being around all the time.
“Yes, of course. It’s all good. Except…” She paused.
Amber’s stomach tightened. “Except what? What’s going on, Molly?”
“I know I told you about the cocktail party we’re having, right?
“Man, is it always this hot in Texas?”
Amber McCloud stowed her suitcase in the trunk of Molly Trajan’s candy-apple-red Mustang and slid into the front seat, positioning the air-conditioning vents so they blew directly on her damp skin.
Molly laughed as she pulled out into the flow of exiting traffic. “Honey, you’re spoiled by all that chilled air up north. If you’re going to be here for a couple of weeks you need to toughen up.”
Amber fanned herself. “Maybe I should have planned this visit for the winter.” She glanced sideways at her friend. “Molly, I want to be very clear about something. I really, really appreciate you letting me dump myself on you while I try to put myself back together. I need the distance from New York and…and…everything else.”
Molly reached over and squeezed her arm. “What are friends for? Sweetie, we’ve known each other for twenty-seven years, ever since freshman year in college. I would be highly offended if you chose someone else.” She paused. “Besides, been there, done that. So it’s all good.”
“Does Nick… Did you tell him what’s going on?”
Amber was totally aware of how ecstatic Molly was in her second marriage, with the man of her dreams. A younger man who adored her. All the things that were missing in her first marriage, she’d found with Nick, and more.
“Only the basics,” Molly said.
Amber bit her lip. “I just don’t want him to look at me with the awful, pitying look I was getting from our so-called friends in New York.”
Molly snorted. “Let me tell you, pity is the last thing you’ll see. If I let him off the leash he’d be on the next plane east to beat the shit out of Dennis McCloud. Believe me, he thinks men like that are scum.”
Amber wouldn’t have minded getting in a few licks herself. After fifteen years of marriage Dennis had somehow woken up one day and decided she was too flawed, too shopworn, too—whatever. He needed a re-engineered model to present the right image to his high-profile clients and the moneyed crowd they ran with.
Oh, he didn’t want much. A boob job. A butt lift. A facelift. Her teeth capped. Something that would take twenty years off her age.
“Nearly all your friends have done it,” he pointed out in a reasonable voice. “They understand what’s important.”
At first she’d been so shocked she hadn’t known what to say. She hadn’t even pointed out to him that the women in their crowd were hardly her friends. In fact, if she was truthful, she couldn’t think of one real friend she’d made since moving to the city. Most of her girl talk was via telephone with Molly.
Eventually she sank into a fit of depression until anger finally took over.
“Maybe you should get yourself someone already young enough for your specifications,” she spat at him.
Which was exactly what he did after a thoroughly nasty divorce.
Now Amber was trying to pick up the pieces of her life and stitch back together her shattered self-esteem. Not only was Molly her oldest and closest friend but she’d been through the same thing herself. And come out of it a real winner. She needed Molly’s humor and common sense and cheerleading. And the isolation of her home to hide from the world while she got her act together.
“I don’t want to make any kind of plans,” she said now. “Just take it day by day. All right?”
“Sure, honey. But you know Nick and I both work from home, right?”
Nick was a highly sought-after architect and Molly had found a new career in interior design. They often worked together on projects.
“Yes, but you meet clients in the office space you share in downtown San Antonio. Right?” She didn’t think she could handle strangers being around all the time.
“Yes, of course. It’s all good. Except…” She paused.
Amber’s stomach tightened. “Except what? What’s going on, Molly?”
“I know I told you about the cocktail party we’re having, right?
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