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  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m such a klutz, always dropping things.” She stooped to gather the wallet along with the bills and paper stubs that had fallen out, but froze when the glint of gold caught her eye. A plain gold wedding band touched the tip of her shoe. As Blaise picked it up, all her hopes imploded and her silly little dreams turned to dust. Her skin turned clammy. Her gut churned with disappointment and disgust.

  She stood, the ring between her thumb and forefinger, leaving the rest of his garbage on the floor. She didn’t so much as glance at Guy. If she took one look at his lying, cheating face, she’d either punch him or puke all over the expensive carpet. Maybe both. Wordlessly she flicked the ring away. It landed with a clatter on the dresser. If he didn’t respect it, why should she?

  “It’s not what you think.” His voice barely penetrated the roar of blood in her ears.

  Of course not. It never was. But she wasn’t about to stand here and listen to his excuses.

  She whirled on him, her jaw so tight it ached, her eyes hot with rage. “Don’t. Say. A word.” She grabbed her bag from the Tattered Page. She already felt as though her gift to Ashlynn had been defiled by his lies and her own stupidity. But there’d be plenty of time to hate herself later.

  Blaise stormed down the hall to the elevator, furiously punched the down button, but was too angry and impatient to wait. Instead, she found the stairwell, pounded down three flights of stairs, stalked through the lobby and out onto the sidewalk. Other pedestrians gave her a wide berth, her bitch face warning all who passed don’t mess with me.

  It was ten blocks to home. She could have hopped a bus but couldn’t face Larry and her other friends in her present state of mind. Besides, fury gave her energy, and she had to do something with it.

  “It’s not what you think,” he’d said. What was it, then? That his wife didn’t understand him, that he didn’t sleep with her anymore, that he only stayed with her for the sake of the children?

  Children. Jesus. Did he have kids? He never mentioned them, but he never mentioned being married, either. Who did he think he was, dragging her into his dirty game? He didn’t know her. How did he know she wouldn’t go psycho on his ass, like that chick in Fatal Attraction?

  She should have torn him a new one. Damn it, why did she always think of the right thing to say, the perfect zinger after the event? She imagined herself back at the hotel, her shoulders thrust back proudly, her voice steely. “For future reference, have the decency to let your next conquest know you have a wife. At least then she can make an informed decision. There are plenty of women out there who have no objection to sleeping with married men. I don’t happen to be one of them.”

  Ha! That would have told him.

  Too late now.

  She was more than halfway home when her pace slowed and her feet dragged. Her anger had stewed into a sludge of disillusionment and bitterness.

  She blinked back tears. Her disgust was no longer with Guy but with herself. What kind of fool hooks up with a man and forgets the very first question she’s supposed to ask: “Are you married?” Who doesn’t think to check for a wedding band or a white line where a band should be? How could she have been so stupidly naïve?

  Hadn’t her past mistakes taught her anything?

  She’d wanted an adventure before settling down to being the staid old mother of the bride. A matron. Well, she got adventure, all right. In spades.

  No wonder they called it a walk of shame.

  ****

  When Blaise returned home, the first thing she did was take a shower. It didn’t matter that she’d already had one that morning. She felt dirty, knowing how Guy had made her complicit in his cheating. She scrubbed herself under the spray until the water turned cold.

  Then she got busy cleaning her place. She cleaned out the refrigerator, rearranged the cupboards, wiped down the counters, vacuumed and mopped the floors. She attacked the job with a vengeance, shifting heavy furniture to make sure no dust bunnies survived.

  By the time she finished, she was wringing wet with sweat and needed another shower. Her muscles ached. But the cleaning jag had served its purpose. It kept her from thinking how stupid she’d been.

  She gave herself the rest of the day and evening to lick her wounds. Yes, she was hurt. Disappointed. Pissed off. She’d felt something for Guy. But only because she thought he was real, not a player. Not a sleaze.

  Sunday, she went about her day with determination. Met Ashlynn for coffee while Desi and her mother were at Mass and accepted her dinner invitation for Wednesday night. Shopped for groceries. Cleaned her place again. Called a couple of friends from work to meet them for pizza and a movie. Every time a memory of Guy crept into her mind, she resolutely thrust it away and found something else to keep her busy. To keep her from thinking.

  Monday, it was back to work, thank God. But somehow, all the little events of her daily life conspired to remind her of Guy. Taking the bus to and from work, she remembered inadvertently sitting on his lap. Traveling past the Tattered Page, she thought of their reading Cupid’s Delight together. When she saw the Hempstead Hotel, she relived the amazing night she’d spent with him in room four-thirty-nine. The Heart of the Rose. The Hummingbird’s Kiss.

  Nothing in her life had really changed. Every day, she greeted Larry and all her bus friends. Every day, she went to the job and the students she loved. She still looked forward to helping plan the wedding, as well as all the festivities leading up to it. Yet everything had changed.

  A tiny bit of the joy had drained away.

  The niggling sense of dissatisfaction she’d recently felt had cracked wide open to reveal the bottom line. She was lonely. Yes, she loved her job and her students, her bus friends, and Ashlynn and Desi. But they weren’t enough.

  She wanted to be in love. To have a partner. Being with Guy had made her all too aware of what she’d been missing for so long. No matter that she’d only been with him one night. One incredible night. But it hadn’t been just about sex or the fact that she’d gone so long without.

  She’d shared so much of herself with him. And he’d shared, too. It had felt so real.

  But it wasn’t real. He wasn’t real. You’re only missing the man you wanted him to be.

  Chapter Five

  Wednesday night, Blaise arrived with two bottles of wine to accompany dinner at Ashlynn’s and Desi’s apartment. Her daughter was at the kitchen counter, chopping veggies for a salad.

  “What’ve you been up to lately?” Ashlynn asked.

  Blaise snitched a piece of carrot and crunched it. “Oh, nothing much. Work.”

  “Yeah? I tried getting hold of you, I think it was Friday, but your phone was off.” Ashlynn playfully waggled her eyebrows. “I thought maybe you were having some wild time.”

  “Huh.” Blaise nearly choked on her mouthful. She had no intention of letting her daughter know how foolish she’d been. “That’s strange. I don’t remember what I was doing.” Time to change the subject. “Where are Desi and Gloria?”

  “They’re closing the salon.” Desi’s mother owned the hair salon where Desi worked. “They’ll stop by the bakery on the way home, pick up something yummy for dessert.”

  Desi and Ashlynn had both been raised by single mothers. Gloria, however, was a widow who’d lost her husband when Desi was just a child. But at least Desi had known a father’s love for part of her life. Ashlynn had never known her dad at all. As her daughter grew up, Blaise had answered Ashlynn’s questions in an age-appropriate way, but guilt nibbled at her all the same. Her lovely, intelligent daughter had deserved a father, and it broke Blaise’s heart that she hadn’t provided her with one.

  Snap out of it. “Well, what can I do to help?”

  “Nothing. I’m just finishing up the salad here.” Ashlynn tossed the carrot slices into the salad bowl. “Tell you what, Blaise. Crack open one of those bottles you brought and pour us some wine.”

  “Don’t call me Blaise. I’m your mother, not your bestie.”
She took two wine glasses from the cupboard.

  As Ashlynn washed her hands, the doorbell rang. “That must be Memo.”

  “Who?”

  “Desi’s uncle, her mom’s brother. You two haven’t met. We managed to pry him away from work to join us tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.” Blaise took down another glass and uncorked a bottle of rosé while her daughter answered the door.

  Ashlynn’s voice filtered in from the other room. “Hi, Memo. So glad you could make it. We’re in the kitchen.”

  Blaise turned, corkscrew in hand. Guy stood in the doorway. She froze, her brain as numb as her fingers, stupidly wondering if she were hallucinating. She blinked several times to clear the image. But no, it was him. Looking just as mouth-watering as he had in the hotel room. Damn him.

  “Mom, this is Desi’s uncle, Memo Rodriguez. Memo, this is my mother, Blaise Blankenship.”

  What’s going on? Blaise’s mouth was open, but she’d lost all power of speech.

  Guy apparently hadn’t. “How do you do?”

  What the hell? Was this really how he meant to play it? As though they’d never met?

  “Hey, let’s get busy on that wine.” Ashlynn’s smile faded when she took one look at her mother’s face. “What’s the matter?”

  Guy’s gaze burned into Blaise. “Your mother and I have met.”

  “Really?” Ashlynn’s smile flickered momentarily, then died. “When was that?”

  “Last Friday,” Blaise answered. “But he told me his name was Guy.” Her tone was frosty with accusation.

  “It’s Guillermo. My friends and people at work know me as Guy, but to my family I’m Memo. It’s a nickname.”

  Ashlynn looked from Guy to her mother, then back again. “Okay, you met…and so?” When neither of them answered, she said, “Wait. Wait a minute. Is he the reason you didn’t answer my texts Friday night? Did you…did you two… No. No, I don’t want to know.”

  Their silence and refusal to meet her eyes gave the answer.

  “Oh, my God. You did.” Ashlynn’s eyes were as round as ping-pong balls. “You guys hooked up? How did that—wait, no. Forget it. Oh hell, I need a drink.” She grabbed the bottle of wine, poured herself a full glass, and chugged half of it. Then shook her head in disbelief. “You didn’t know each other?”

  “How would we?” Guy said. “We’d never met.”

  “All right, but your last names didn’t ring a bell?”

  Blaise’s face heated when he answered. “We never got around to last names.”

  “Oh, God. TMI. TMI.” Ashlynn drained her glass, then reached for the bottle again.

  Good God, things were bad enough without her daughter binge drinking. “Honey, take it easy.”

  Guy’s face was like a closed door. “I should go.”

  “Yes, mustn’t keep your wife waiting,” Blaise snapped. It made her sick the way he pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes, played the loving uncle when he was nothing but a sleaze.

  Ashlynn looked confused. “What wife?”

  Blaise’s glance flew to her daughter’s puzzled face, then to Guy’s left hand. His ring finger was bare. What did he do, slip the ring on and off at his convenience?

  Ashlynn went on. “He’s divorced. That’s what Desi told me.”

  Divorced?

  “Wait.” Ashlynn’s mouth was tight. Her eyes blazed with accusation. “You thought he was married, and you still slept with him?”

  “No!” For God’s sake, she couldn’t let her daughter think that. “God, no. He wasn’t wearing a ring. I didn’t see it until it fell out of his wallet.”

  “And when you saw the ring, you assumed—”

  “What else could I think? Who carries their wedding band in their wallet?”

  They both stared at Guy. His broad shoulders moved in a sigh. “Can you give us a minute, Ashlynn?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to leave my mother alone with you.” She moved to Blaise’s side as though to protect her.

  And Blaise wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone with him. But she needed answers. “It’s all right, sweetie.”

  Ashlynn pinned him with her glare. “All right. But I’ll be in living room if you need me.” Listening to every word, Blaise had no doubt.

  She waited to speak until they were alone. “So. You’re divorced.”

  He gave a short nod. “Yes.”

  “How long?”

  “Little over a year.”

  She should be happy. She hadn’t been with a married man after all. Blaise waited for relief to fill her, to ease her sore pride. Now she didn’t know what to feel.

  “You could have just told me that. Don’t you know how cheap I felt, seeing the ring?”

  His mouth folded into a grim line. “When did I get the chance? You exploded and stormed out. I didn’t even have time to open my mouth.”

  “What did you expect?” Was he seriously trying to put her in the wrong for assuming the worst?

  “Even if I had, you were so pissed off, you wouldn’t have believed anything I said.”

  Blaise’s indignation subsided. That much was true. She’d have dismissed his explanations as nothing more than a cheater’s lies.

  A sudden suspicion flashed through her. He’d been divorced for a year but still kept the ring? There had to be a reason. “Are you still in love with her?”

  Surprisingly, a pang sliced through her at that thought. He’d kept a keepsake of his former wife. Blaise was certain no one had ever done the same for her.

  “No.” But he answered too quickly for it not to be true. “I keep it to remind me.”

  “Remind you…of her?”

  “No. To remind myself never to be a fool again.”

  And that’s all he gave her. What the hell did it mean?

  Blaise looked up to see that Ashlynn had drifted into the doorway, not even trying to pretend she wasn’t eavesdropping.

  If Guy wanted to say more, he wasn’t about to with Ashlynn hovering nearby. He turned to her daughter, his body tense. “I’ll be going.”

  Ashlynn crossed her arms over her chest. “I think that’s best.” She trailed him to the door as though she didn’t trust him not to steal something on the way out. “I’ll make your excuses to Desi and Gloria.”

  When the door closed and Ashlynn returned, Blaise finally found the courage to look at her daughter. “Maybe I should go, too.”

  Ashlynn’s pretty hazel eyes were soft with sympathy. “No. I don’t want you to be alone now. I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “I’m sorry, too. That you had to witness that. I’d like to forget it ever happened.”

  “I knew something was wrong as soon as you saw him. Your jaw practically hit the floor. You have no poker face, Blaise. “

  “Don’t call me Blaise. And please don’t say anything about this to Desi or her mother. I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Ashlynn touched her arm. “Are you going to be all right?”

  “I’m fine.” At least she had the comfort of knowing she wasn’t a home wrecker. Although when she thought he was married, she’d had righteous anger to sustain her. What did she have now?

  “No, you’re not. You didn’t see your face. You really fell for this guy, didn’t you? It was way more than just a fling. Even though I’m still having a problem with that.”

  Blaise let go a shaky laugh even as she wanted to cry. Ashlynn knew her too well. She couldn’t even manage a casual hookup and do it right. Guy hadn’t wanted to be a fool. Well, he needn’t worry. That was her role.

  “I’ll get over it.” She’d get over him. She wasn’t going to let this mess up her life. Or Ashlynn’s.

  Ashlynn shook her head. “It’ll be awkward, though. Desi’s crazy about her uncle. He’s a big part of her life. After her dad died, he pretty much stepped in, like a second father.”

  “Don’t tell them about this. I don’t want to cause any problems for you and Desiree. I’m a
n adult and so is he. Neither one of us wants any drama, I’m sure. We’ll handle it.”

  “How? By staying on opposite sides of the room from now on? Between now and the wedding, there’ll be a lot of family get-togethers.”

  Family. The word landed on Blaise’s conscience with a resounding clunk. For too many years, she and Ashlynn only had each other. Now her daughter would have Desi and Gloria and, yes, Guy. Once the girls married, there’d be no way to avoid him. They’d all be family.

  Blaise’s stomach roiled at the thought of facing him at future birthdays, holidays, family gatherings. Someone she’d seen naked and with whom she’d done intimate things.

  Get over it. So what it if it was the best sex you’ve had in years?

  With any luck, those memories would fade with time. Being in the same room with him would eventually become ordinary. She wouldn’t look at his hands and remember them coasting down her body, smoothing and caressing. She wouldn’t watch his lips move and picture them kissing her throat and the curve of her breast. She wouldn’t breathe in the fresh scent of his soap and want to nuzzle closer for another whiff.

  She clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms. Oh God.

  But her voice was firm when she answered her daughter. “I don’t want you to worry. It’s going to be fine.”

  Of course, it would. She wouldn’t make things awkward or difficult. She’d get over her hurt feelings. That’s all there was to it.

  She’d do it for Ashlynn.

  Chapter Six

  The following evening, Blaise sat in a darkened corner of the Hempstead lounge. Though her nerves vibrated with anxiety, she waited as still as a Madonna for Guy. She’d been watching the entrance since she’d arrived.

  Last night, she’d made it through dinner with her daughter’s help and several glasses of wine. She was glad she’d stayed. Though at first, it had taken an effort to laugh and chat with Ashlynn, Desi, and Gloria, she’d managed to sweep her humiliation under a mental rug as the evening wore on.

  When she returned home, she’d had an epiphany. She could remain on tenterhooks, dreading her next encounter with Guy, or she could be pro-active.