SECRETS,LIES…ANDMONEY

SocialiteEmmaDearborn'sfuturewasallplannedoutforher:theperfectwedding,theperfect

husband,theperfectlife.ThenGarrettKeatingreturned.

Hewasn'tabouttoletEmmagothroughwithherfarceofamarriage,andhesetouttostopher…

seductionbeingatthetopofhislist.ButifEmmadidn'twalkdowntheaislebyherbirthday,shestood
toloseaninheritanceworthmillions.

JusthowfarwouldGarrettbewillingtogotohaveEmma?Allthewaytothealtar?

Fromthe“PeopleAreTalking”

Columnofthe

Eastwick,Connecticut,Gazette

Alloflocalsocietyisabuzzwithrumorsthattheweddingoftheyear—betweentheheiressofa

certainveryoldEastwickfamilyandheralmostequallywell-connectedfiancé—mightnothappen.

Ofcourse,thisweddinghasbeenpostponedsomanytimesthatsomepeoplewonderedwhetherthe

bridewasreallyreadytogetmarried.Butwethoughtshemeantitthistime.Theweddinginvitations
havebeenchosen,andallthearrangements—rightdowntothenamecardsandtheplacesettings—
havebeenmade.

Andyetwehearthebride-to-beishavingsecondthoughts.Hmm…Couldthathaveanythingtodo

withthesuddenreappearanceinourlittletownofanotherman—averyhandsome,verytroublesome
mantheladyisrumoredtohavebeen,um…“involved”withyearsago…?

JENNIFERGREENE

TheSoon-To-Be-DisinheritedWife

PublishedbySilhouetteBooks

America’sPublisherofContemporaryRomance

Acknowledgment

SpecialthanksandacknowledgmentisgiventoJenniferGreeneforhercontributiontotheSecret

LivesofSocietyWivesminiseries.

One

EmmaDearbornfeltanitch.Notalittleitch.Amaddening,unrelentingitch—rightbetweenher

shoulderblades,whereshecouldn’treachit.

Emmawasn’tpronetoitchesandwasalmostneverguiltyoffidgeting,whichwasprobablywhy

sherememberedexperiencingthesameterrorizingitchsensationbefore.Ithadonlyhappenedtwice
inherlife.Thefirsttime,she’daccidentallydrivenherdad’srestoredpricelessMorganintoLong
IslandSoundatGreenwichPointwhenshewassixteen.Thecarhadbeenrecovered;herdadnearly
hadn’t.Theothertime,herdatefortheannualChristmascotillionhadturnedugly,andshe’dhadto
walkhomeinherlongwhitesatindressandheelsinasnowstorm,cryingthewholetime.

Sincethosedays,ofcourse,shewasnolongeranovicewithdrivingormen.Moretothepoint,the

itchthistimecouldn’tpossiblyrelatetosomeimpendingtraumaticevent.Herlifewasgoing
splendiferously.

Impatientlyshetookalonggulpofmint-raspberrytea.Mentallyshetoldherselftogetoverthe

damneditchandquitsquirming.ForPete’ssake,therewasnothingremotelywrong.Everything
aroundherreflectedherserenelycontentedlife.

“Emma?”

Abasking-warmJunesunsoakedthroughtheglasswindowsoverlookingthepooloutside.The

EmeraldRoomwastheoneplaceintheEastwickCountryClubwherememberscoulddresscasually.
Todaythepoolwaschock-fullofkidsfreshoutofschoolandshriekingwithjoyfulenergy.Inside,
momsinsandalsandshortselbowedwiththebusiness-lunchcrowdinsuits.

Emma,becauseshe’djustchairedameetingofthefund-raisingcommittee,wasstuckdressedon

theformalside.Herlightsilksheathwaslavender-blue,notbecauseitwashersignaturecolor.Emma
objectedtothewholepretentiousconceptofsignaturecolors.Somehow,though,hercloset
mysteriouslyfilledupwithblues.Everyoneelseinthegroupwasdressedmorelaid-back—notthat
anyonecaredtodayaboutclothes.

TheDebshadmissedtheirtraditionallunchlastmonth—everyonewassodarnbusy!—whichmeant

theyallhadtotalkatoncetocatchup.

Harry,thebartender,hadkindlyreservedthemalachitetablebythedoors,notjustgivingthemthe

bestviewbutalsoalittleprivacyfortheirgossip.FelicityandVanessaandAbbywereallthere.

Emma’sheartwarmedtothelaughter—evenifthatitchwasstilldrivinghercrazy.Thefriends

werecloserthansisters.They’dallgrownuptogether,attendedthesameprivateschool,kneweach
other ’smostembarrassingmoments—andtendedtobringthemoutattheselunches.Iftheteasing
everlagged,therewasalwaystheirdebutantehistorytohauloutofstorage.Whatwerefriendsforif
nottosavorandembellishthemostmortifyingeventsinone’slife?AndCarolineKeating-Spence

hadjoinedthemforlunchthistime.

“Emma,areyousleeping?”

QuicklyshewhippedherheadtowardFelicity,notrealizingthatshe’ddroppedoutofthe

conversation.“Notsleeping,honest.Justkindofwoolgatheringwhatalonghistorywehave
together…howmuchfunwe’vealwayshad.”

“Yeah,sure.”Vanessawinkedtotherestofthem.“Shecoveredupnicely,butweallknowshe’s

engaged.Naturallyshewasn’tlisteningtous.She’satthatmoonystage.”

Felicitychuckled.“Eitherthatorthatbigclunkofasapphireonherfingerisblindingher.Hells

bells,itblindstherestofus,too.Whatanoriginalengagementring.Butthat’sexactlywhatIwas
tryingtoaskyouabout,Em.How’severythinggoingwiththeweddingplans?”

Againshefeltthatexasperatingitchspiderupherspine.Thiswasgettingdownrightcrazy.Her

engagementtoReedKellywasyetanotherthingthatwasgoingtotally—totally—rightinherlife.At
twenty-nineyearsold,she’dstoppedbelievingshe’deverbemarried.

Actuallythetruthwasthatshe’dneverwantedtobe.

“Everything’sgoingfine,”sheassuredthemall,“exceptthatReedseemstohavearrangedthe

wholehoneymoonbeforewe’vefinalizedtheweddingplans.”

Theyalllaughed.“Youtwohavesetadate,though,right?”

Anothershootingitch.“Actuallywe’vereservedEastwick’sballroomfortwodifferentSaturdays,

butbetweenmyscheduleatthegalleryandReed’sracingschedulewiththehorses,westillhaven’t
pinnedonedownforsure.Ipromise,thisgroupwillbethefirsttoknow.Infact,you’llprobably
knowbeforeIdo,knowinghowfastthisgrouppicksupsecrets.”

Theyallchortled—andagreed—andthenmovedontothenextvictim.Felicity,beingEastwick’s

foremostweddingplanner—whichmeantthatsheexcelledinbothoriginalextravaganzasandgossip
—wasalwaysfullofnews.

Asthefreshestscandalswerebroughtouttoair,EmmaglancedatCaroline,whoseemedoddly

quiet.Ofcourse,itwashardtogetawordinwiththeDebsalltalkingsimultaneously,butCaroline
hadn’tjoinedinthelaughter.AndnowEmmanoticedhersignalingHarryforherthirdglassofwine.

TheitchwasclosetodrivingEmmatodrink,too,butseeingCarolineguzzlingdownpinotnoir

distractedher.Heavenknew,theDebshadbeenknowntoenjoyadrink—andoccasionallyto
overindulge.Noonekissandtoldinthegroup,notoneachother.Emmawouldn’tnormallycareif
Carolinewasgulpingdownthepinotnoirs,butdrinkingwassounlikeher.

Carolinewasn’toneoftheoriginalcoreDebsgroupbecauseshewasalittleyounger.Emmahad

swoopedherintothecircleoffriends,thesamewayshetendedtopeelwallflowersoffthewallat
socialgatherings.Carolinewasnowallflower,buttherewasatimeshe’dneededalittleboostofself-

confidence.EmmahadgottentoknowherwellbecauseofGarrett—Caroline’solderbrother.

AgainEmmafeltaticklishitch.Thistimeafamiliarone.Althoughherhearthadn’tdugupthatold

emotionalhistoryinabluemoon,GarrettKeatinghadbeenherfirstlove.Justpicturinghimbrought
backthatwholepoignantera—thetimeinherlifewhenshe’dstillbelievedinlove,whenshe’dfelt
crazy-highjusttobeinthesameroomwithhimandequallypit-lowmiserableeverysecondthey’d
hadtobeapart.

Everybodyhadtolosethatsillyidealismsometime,sheknew.Still,she’dalwaysregrettedtheir

breakingupbeforemakinglove.Backthenshe’dheldontohervirginitylikeagamblerunwillingto
laydownheraces,yetsooftensincethenshethoughtshe’dmissedtherighttimewiththerightman.
Garrett’skisseshadawakenedhersexuality,herfirstfeelingsofpowerasawoman…herfirst
feelingsofvulnerabilityandsurrender,aswell.She’dneverforgottenhim,nevereventried.She
wasn’tcarryingatorchoranythingfoolishlikethat;itwasjustafirst-lovething.Heownedacorner
ofherheart,alwayswould….AbruptlyEmmastoppedwoolgathering.Harryshowedupattheirtable
again.

ThebartenderservedCarolineherthirdwine,whichsheimmediatelydownedlikewater.Emma

frowned.EveryoneknewCarolinehadhadariftwithherhusband,Griff,theyearbefore—butthey
werebacktogethernow.Everyonehadseenthemnuzzlingeachotheratthespringartfairasifthey
werenewlovers.Sowhatwastheheavydealwiththewine?

“Murder!”someonesaid.

Emma’sheadshotup.“Saywhat?”

Abbyspokeupfromthecorner,hervoiceathousandtimesmoretentativethannormal.“You’ve

hadyourheadintheclouds,Em.Idon’tblameyou,withaweddingcomingup.ButIwasjusttelling
thegroupwhathappenedsinceIwenttothepoliceaboutmymother.”

“Thepolice?”EmmaknewaboutAbby’smother ’sdeath.Everyonedid.LucindaBaldwin—alias

Bunny—hadcreatedtheEastwickSocialDiary,whichhaddishedallthedirtonthemoneyedcrowdin
Eastwick.Marriages,cheating,divorces,touchyhabits,legalorbusinessindiscretions—ifitwas
scandalworthy,Bunnysomehowalwaysknewandlovedtotell.Herdeathhadbeenashockto
everyone.“Iknowhowyoungyourmomwas,Abby.ButIthoughtsomeonesaidshehadaheart
conditionthathadn’tbeendetectedbefore,thatthatwaswhatshediedfrom—”

“That’swhatIthoughtoriginally,too,”Abbyaffirmed.“ButrightafterMomdied,Icouldn’tface

goingthroughherthings.Ittookmeawhile…butwhenIfinallygotaroundtoopeningmymom’s
privatesafe,Ijustexpectedtofindherjournalsandjewelry.Thejewelrywasthere,butallher
journalsweregone.Stolen.Theyhadtobe.Itwastheonlyplacesheeverkeptthem.That’swhenI
firststartedworrying.Andthen,findingoutthatsomeonetriedtoblackmailJackCartwrightbecause
ofinformationinthosemissingjournalsaddedtomysuspicions.”

“Abby’sbecomemoreandmoreconcernedthathermomwasmurdered,”Felicityclarified.

“MyGod.”Scandalwasonething,butEastwickbarelyneededanactivepoliceforce.Therehadn’t

beenaseriouscrimeinthecommunityinyears,muchlessanythingasgraveasmurder.

“Ican’tsleepatnight,”Abbyadmitted.“Ijustcan’tstopthinkingaboutit.Mymomlovedsecrets.

LovedputtingtogethertheDiary.Andfordarnsure,shelovedscandals.Butsheneverhadamean
boneinherbody.ShehadtonsofthingswrittendowninherjournalsthatsheneverusedintheDiary
becauseshedidn’twanttohurtpeople.”

Emmagropedtounderstand.“Sothat’spartlywhyyouthinkshewasmurdered?Becausesomeone

stolethosejournals?Eitherbecausetheywantedtousetheinformation,orbecausetheyhadasecret
themselvestheywantedcoveredup?”

“Exactly.ButIstillcan’tproveit,”Abbysaidrestlessly.“Imean,thejournalsaregone.That’sfor

sure.ButIcan’tprovethetheftisrelatedtoherdeath.ThepolicekeeptellingmethatIdon’thave
enoughtoopenupanewinquest.Honestly,they’vebeenreallynice—theyallagreethesituation
soundssuspicious.Butthere’snoonetoarrest,nosuspects.Ican’tevenprovethejournalswere
stolen.”

“Butshe’spositivetheywere,”Felicityfilledin.

Abbynodded.“Theyhadtobestolen.Thesafeistheonlyplacemymothereverkeptthem.

Unfortunately,thepolicecan’tactjustbecauseIknowsomethingistrue.There’snoevidencetoprove
mymotherdidn’tsimplyhidethejournalssomewhereelse.Andthereisn’tasinglesuspect.”

Thewholegroupclusteredclosetodiscussthedisturbingsituation—andtosupportAbby—but

eventuallytheEmeraldRoomfilledupwithkidsandfamilies.Serioustalkbecameimpossible.The
womenlightenedup,chitchattedaboutfamilynews,buteventuallythegroupbrokeup.

IntheparkinglotEmmaclimbedintoherwhiteSUV,hermindspinningbetweenCaroline’s

troublingbehavioratlunchandtheworrisomesuspicionsaboutBunny’sdeath.Still,bythetimeshe
turnedonMainStreet,hermoodinstinctivelylifted.

Herartgallery,Color,wasonlyacoupleblocksoffthemaindragintown.Emmadidn’tmind

runningthefund-raisingcommitteeforEastwick’scountrycluboranyoftheothersocial
responsibilitiesherparentspushedonher.Ifitweren’tforherparents—andamightyhugetrustfund
comingtoheronherthirtiethbirthday—shecouldn’tdothethingsshereallyloved.Mostpeople
neverknewaboutthevolunteerworkshedidwithkids,butthewholecommunitywaswellawarehow
muchtimeandloveshedevotedtothegallery.

Sheparkedinthenarrow,crookeddrive.ThebuildingwasatthecornerofMapleandOak,andin

Junenow,aprofuserowofpeoniesbloomedinsidethewhitepicketfence.TypicalofoldConnecticut
towns,Eastwickhadtonsofpre-Revolutionaryhistory.Herbuildinghadoncebeenahouse.Itwas
twohundred–plusyearsold,brick,withtall,skinnywindowsandadozensmallrooms—whichwas
theadvantage.Althoughsomethingalwaysseemedtoneedmaintenance,fromtheplumbingtothe
electricity,shehadadozenroomstodisplaycompletelydifferentkindsofartwork.Customerscould
roamaroundandexaminewhatevertheylikedinrelativeprivacy.

BythetimesheboltedoutoftheSUV—andnearlytrippedonthecobblestonesteps—shewas

humming.AshipmentofAlsonSkinnerClarkprintswasdueinlatethatafternoon.Theyneeded
sortingandhanging.Andtwoweeksbefore,she’dcomeacrossanoldWalterFarndonoiloncanvas
thatwasstillstashedinthebackroom—herworkshop—thatneededcleaningandrepair,whichshe
loveddoing.Andaroomonthesecondfloorwasvacantrightnow,justwaitingforhertosetupa
displayoflocalartists’work,anotherprojectshecouldn’twaittotakeon.

Hergalleryrodetheedgeofmakingaprofitandnot.Emmaknewperfectlywellshecouldhave

runitmoreefficiently,butshe’dalwaysknownshehadthetrustfundcoming.Itwasn’tthemoneythat
matteredtoherbutthefreedomtoopenuparttothecommunity,tobepartofmakingsomething
beautifulinpeople’slives.

She’dnevertoldanyonehowimportantthatgoalofbeautywastoher.TheDebswouldjustroll

theireyesathergoofyidealism.Herfamilywouldsighasifshe’dneverunderstandpracticalreality
—atleast,realityontheirterms.Andmaybeallofthemwereright,butwhenEmmaopenedtheornate
red-lacquerdoorintoColor,shefeltasweepingburstofplainoldhappiness.

“Hey,Ms.Dearborn!Iwashopingyou’dbebackbymidafternoon.YougotthatcratefromNew

Yorkyouwerewaitingfor.CameinFedExbeforenoon.”Josh,who’dworkedparttimeforherfor
years,blessedherwithashysmile.Hewassomewhereinthevicinityofsixty,skinnyasarailand
palerthanpaint.Somesaidhe’dbeenanartistonce.Somesaidhewasgay.Somesaidhe’dhadatoo-
longrelationshipwithbordeaux.AllEmmaknewwasthathe’dwalkedinandstartedhelpingher
whenshefirstopenedtheplace.He’dtaughthertons.

“Ican’twaittogetintoit.Youcanwatchforcustomersupfront?”

“Surething.”

Sheglancedatheroffice,stashedhersummerbagandspunaroundtozoominthebackroomwhen

thephonerang.Whenshegrabbedit,sheheardthefamiliarvoiceofherfiancé.

“Hey,sweetheart.Iwaswonderingifyouhadtimefordinnertonight.I’mtiedupmostofthe

afternoonbutprettysureIcouldmakeitintotownaround,say,seven.”

Instinctivelyshetwistedherarmbehindhertoclawatthatstrange,aggravatingitchagain.The

restless,stressyfeelingthathadbeenbuggingherforhourssuddenlyfiercelyintensified.“Sure,”she
said.“How’syourday?”

“Couldn’tbebetter.Boughtahoneyofastallion…”

Standingwiththephonetoherear,closetothewindow,sheignoredtheitchandsuddenly,slowly

liftedherhand.ThesapphireonherlefthandwasfromSriLanka.Reedhadtakenhertoajeweler,
shownherabedofsapphires,onlyarguedwhenshe’dfirsttriedtopickasmallerstone.Theringwas
morethanabreathtakinggem.Itwasasymbolofsomethingshe’dbeensopositiveshe’dneverhave.

She’dalwaysbeenpositivethatmarriagewasn’tforher.Shelikedmenfineandtotallyadoredkids.

ButsomanycouplesinEastwick,includingherparents,seemedmorelikebusinessmergersthan
loveaffairs.Sexwasacommodityprettymuchlikeanyother.Emmadidn’tknockanyoneelse’s

choices,shejustneverwantedthatkindoflife.YetwhenReedaskedhertomarryhim,well…maybe
he’dnevermadeherheartraceorhermoodgogiddy,butdamn.Hewassuchagoodguy.Impossible
nottolove.Whenitcamedowntoit,she’deasilysaidyes,recognizingthathewasprobablytheonly
manshecouldimaginebeingmarriedto.

Today,shefeltnodifferentlythanshe’dfeltthedayhe’dslidtheengagementringonherfinger.

Itwasjust…shecouldn’tseemtoquellthestrange,edgysensationofpanicthathadbeenhounding

hermoodforhoursnow.“Ican’twaitfortonight!”sheassuredhimbrightly.

Butwhenshehungupthephone,guiltsmackedherintheheart.Whatkindofgoofywomanwas

shethatshe’dratherspendtheeveningunpackingoldcratesinthebackofhergallerythangoouttoa
romanticdinnerwithamansheloved?

Four-thirtyintheafternoon,anyweekdayafternoon,alwaysturnedintoaworkfrenzy.Garrett

Keatinghadhiredadriveraboutfouryearsago,notbecausehedidn’tenjoydrivinghimself—even
inthecrazinessofdowntownManhattan—butbecausethecrisesautomaticallyseemedtokickin
duringthatlate-afternoontimeframe.Thisafternoon,typically,he’dlefthisinvestment-bankingfirm
lessthantenminutesago,yethiscellhadrungnonstop.Ashesatinthebackseat,hisbriefcasewas
openandpaperswerescatteredeverywhere.

“Keating,”hebarkedintothereceiverforthelatestinterruption.

Anunfamiliarfemalevoiceanswered.“Mr.GarrettKeating?CarolineKeating-Spence’sbrother?”

Immediateworryclawedhispulse.“Yes.What’sthisabout?”

“Yoursisteraskedustocallyou.ThisisMrs.Henry,theseniordaynurseinICUatEastwick—”

“OhmyGod.Issheallright?”

“Webelieveshewillbe,intime.Butthecircumstancesarealittletouchy.Yourparentshavebeen

here,buttheyseemtoupsetyoursistermorethanhelp.BecauseMrs.Keating-Spenceisinsucha
fragilestateofmind,whensheaskedforyou—”

“I’llbethereasfastasIcanmakearrangements.Whichwillbeimmediately.Butwhatexactlyis

wrong?”

“Iwouldn’tnormallysayoverthephoneifyoursisterhadn’taskedmetoconveyatleastpartofthe

situation.Herhusbandisoutofthecountry.Herparentsarepossiblytooupsettomakethesituation
easier.So—”

“Justtellme.”

“Shetookinanextensivequantityofmixedalcoholandmedication.”Ashortsilence.“Herparents

—yourparents—arequitedeterminedthatyoursisterdidthisaccidentally.Nooneonthemedical
staffhasanydoubtthatyoursisterhadtoknowexactlywhatshewasdoing.”Anothershortsilence.“I
believeitbesttobeblunt.Whenshefirstcamein,noonewassurewecouldbringherback.That
medicalcrisisisovernow,but—”

“I’llbethere,”Garrettsaidswiftlyanddisconnected.

Ed,hisdriver,methiseyesintherearviewmirror.“Soundslikethere’saproblem?”

“Yes.Ihavetoleavetown.Immediately.I’llgiveyoualistofthingsI’dappreciateyourhandlingat

theapartment….”

Garrettrannonstopforthenextfewhours,fearandguiltshadowinghisheart.Hehandledmillions

ofdollarseveryday,juggledapressure-cookerworkload,sohowhadhefailedsobadlyatfindinga
fewminutesforhissister?

Onthelong,silentdrivetoEastwick,hecouldn’tstopthinkingaboutCaro.Headoredhissister.

They’dalwaysbeenthickasthieves,alliedagainstparentswho’dneverhadtimeorinterestinraising
children.WhenCarolinemarried,naturallyGarretthadretreated.Butayearago,whenheheardshe
washavingtroublewithGriff,he’dsteppedbackin,preparedtoshootthesonofabitch—anysonof
abitch—whodaredtohurthissister.

Allhislife,though,he’dbeenbetteratworkthanrelationships.

Businesshadbeengood,exceptthathe’dalwayshadahardtimeputtingalidonhisworkaholic

tendencies.Makeonemillion,naturallyhewantedtomakefive,thenten.Hewasgenerallyconnected
toacomputeroraphonetwentyhoursoutoftwenty-four.Somaybehehadnolovelifeorpersonal
life,buthewasthriving.

Hewassurehe’dbeenthriving.

ButthenCarolinehadcalledfourdaysagoandhejusthadn’tfoundthetimetocallherback.She’d

calledagainyesterdaymorning.He’dbeenplanningtocallhertonight.Really.Forsure.

Only,damnit,maybehe’dhaveforgottenthatthewayheforgoteverythingelselately.Business

hadconsumedhimtighterthanatornadowind.

Hissister,who’dalwayscountedonhim—whoknewshecouldcountonhim,who’dneverdoubted

he’dbethereforher—hadneededhelp.Andhe’dflunkedthecourse.

BythetimehereachedtheoutskirtsofEastwick,nighthadfallen,hisstomachwaschurningandhis

heartfeelingsharp-sick.Itwasn’tjustguilt;itwascaring.Somanypeoplebelievedhewascold-
blooded—andmaybehewas;thatwaswhatmadehimgoodinbusiness.Buthewasn’tcoldabouthis
sister.Hefiercelylovedher.

He’djustfailedherthistime.Andhecouldn’t,wouldn’t,forgivehimself.

Atthehospitalhelockedthecarandjoggedforthedoor,stillwearingthenavysuithe’dwornall

day,nothavingeateninGodknowshowlong.Hedidn’tcare.Heshotthroughthedoors,jabbedthe
elevatorbuttonforthree,ran.

Hehadn’tbeenhome—muchlessnearEastwickGeneralHospital—inabluemoonandthensome.

Butthestructurehadn’tnoticeablychangedsincehewasakid.He’dhaveknownhiswayaroundeven
ifhisfamilyhadn’tdonatedawingortwoovertheyears.Criticalcarewastheisolatedunitoffthe
thirdfloorintheback—thelocationchosenbecauseithadahelipadontheroof.

TheCCwingwasquiet.Thesoundofmachinesandmonitorsmademorenoisethanthepatients.

Lightsdimmedafternine.Hedidn’timmediatelyseeanurseordoctor,sosimplyhikedpasteach
glass-dooredcubicle,lookingforhissister.Theunitheldonlytenbeds,usuallymorethanneeded
eveninemergencycircumstances.Sixbedswerefilled—notoneofthemwithhissister.

Finallyhefoundadoctoremergingfromthelastdoor.“I’mGarrettKeating.Iwastoldmysister,

CarolineKeating-Spence—”

“Yes,Mr.Keating.Shewashereuntillatethisafternoon.Wejustmovedheracouplehoursagotoa

privateroom.”

“Soshe’sbetter.”Forthatinstant,itwasallhewantedtohear.

“You’llneedtospeakwithherdoctor,butthenursewilltellyouherroom—”

Morerigmarole.Morerunning.Hetookthestairsratherthanwaitingfortheelevator—he’dnever

beengoodatwaiting,andtherewasn’tachancehecouldpretendtobepatienttonight.Room201.
That’swheretheytoldhimtogo.Aprivateroomwithatwenty-four-hourmonitor.Garrettsuspected
themonitormeantthateitherhissisterwasn’toutofthewoodsyetorthattheyfearedshe’dtry
suicideagain.

Eventhenursehadn’tspecificallyusedthewordsuicide,butGarrettimmediatelyknewwhatshe

hadn’tsaid—becauseheknewhissister.Thislastyear,onceshe’dmendedthebreachwithher
husband,Carolinehadseemedsolidandhappy,notasfragileasshe’dbeenforsolong.YetGarrett
knewher.Howthebaggageoftheirchildhoodhadaffectedher.Howdeeplyshefeltthings.How
fiercelyshehidthosefeelings.

Somepeoplewouldneverbuythefarm,butCarolinewasalwayssomeonewhocouldn’tquiteclose

thegatetodepression.

Hescrapedahandthroughhishairandsuddenlyhaltedoutside201.Hefeltasifhe’dbeenrunning

hell-bentforleatherforhours,whichwasfinebutnothowhewantedhissistertoseehim.Heforced
himselftostandstillforafewminutes,pullitalltogether,concentrateonpullingoffanimageof
calmstrength.

Anursebuzzedpasthim.Thentwoaides.Hetookasteptowardthedoor,whensuddenlyawoman

walkedoutofCaroline’sroom.Shealmostranstraightintohim—wouldhaveifhehadn’t
instinctivelyreachedouttosteadyher.

Herheadshotup.Amaneofsilkydarkhairfelltoshoulderlength,framingacameoface—elegant

bones,hugeeyesbluerthanviolet,apalemouthwiththelipstickwornoff.

Herstrikinglookswouldhaveransomedhisattentionevenifhedidn’tknowher…buthedid.

Hernamedidn’tpopintohisheadinthatsecond,probablybecause,hell,hismindwasgoneafter

thesepaststress-packedhours.Yetstressornostress,heimmediatelyrememberedhereyes.He
rememberedkissingher.Heremembereddancinginthegrassatmidnight,rememberedlaughing…
thewayheneverseemedtolaughwithotherpeople,notthenornow.Butshewasdifferent.She’d
madehimlaugh.Madehimfallharderinlovethanacrash.

Ofcourse,thatwasaeonsago.

Alifetimeandmore.

“Garrett,”shesaidgently.“I’msogladyou’rehere.”

“Emma.”He’dknownhernameallalong.Itwasjustthatthememorieshadrushedintohishead

fasterthantheprosaicfacts.“You’vebeenwithmysister?”

“Yes.It’spastvisitinghours,but…”Shehesitated.“Ithinknoonewantstoleaveheralone.Your

parentswerehereuntilaboutahalfhourago.Infact,Ijuststayedinthehall—butIheardhertalking,
realizedshewasupset.SowhenIsawthemleave,Iwentin.Ididn’tknowwhatelsetodo.Excepttry
tobethereforher.She’sfallenasleepnow.”Againshehesitated.Awispofasmilesoftenedherface.
“It’sgoodtoseeyou.”

“Notunderthesecircumstances.”

“No.Infact,Irememberyoursayingyou’dnevercomebacktoEastwickifyoucouldhelpit.”

Herememberedthatsuddenly,alltoowell.Itwaswhyhe’dbrokenitoffwithherallthoseyears

ago—becausehe’drathergiveupanything,everything,thanliveinthisdamntown.Butthatwashow
he’dfeltattwenty-one,anagewheneverythingwasanultimatum.Anagewhenyouassumedyou
didn’tneedanyoneever.Anagewhenitwassoamazinglyeasytobeself-righteous.

NowhelookedatEmmaandthoughtshe’dgrownintoherlooks.Sheusedtobelovely,butshe’d

gonefarbeyondlovelynow.Shewaswearingbluepants,adarkcottonsweater.Dressedcomfortably
forahospitalvisit,nothingfancy,butherchoiceofclothesshowedoffherlong,leanbody.There
wasprideinherposture,inhereyes.Apoiseshe’dneverhadasagirl.

Aloneliness.

Shelookedasifshewantedtosaysomethingelse,butthenshookherhead.“You’llwanttogointo

seeher.AndI’mjustleaving—”

“Emma,ifyouwouldn’tmind…”

Shecockedherhead.

“Idowanttoseeher.Rightnow.Butifshe’sfallenasleep,couldyouwaitjustacoupleminutes?I’d

appreciatehearingyourimpressionofwhatthesituationis—”

“Herdoctorcantellyouthefacts.Ireallydon’tknow—”

“I’llgetallthat.ButI’dliketheopinionofafriend.Thatis,ifyoucansparethetime?Irealizeit’s

alreadylate.”

“OfcourseIcansparethetime,”shesaid.

Againsheofferedhimasmile.Asmilelikeagift—that’showheusedtothinkofsmilesand

laughterfromher.She’dgivenhimsomuch,sofreelyfromtheheart.Everymomentwithherhad
beenlikediscoveringsomethinghe’dneverknownhe’dmissed.

Justseeingherfacebroughtthatfeelingback.

Butthen,ofcourse,hestrodeintoseehissister.

Two

EmmapacedthehallwayoutsideRoom201,glancingatherwatcheveryfewminutes,thinkingthat

sheshouldn’tstay.Itwasn’tasifsheweredirectfamily,nottoGarrettorCaroline.Shehadnoreal
businessbeinghere.Shewasjustafriend.Andshecouldn’thelpfeelingawkwardbecauseofher
historywithGarrett.

ButthenhestumbledoutofCaroline’sroom,andherbreathcaughtjustlookingathim.

Hewasn’tthatbrash,sexyboysheremembered,theonewhosekissesmadeherkneesknock,made

herpulsezoom,madeherfeellikeawomanforthefirsttime.Butdamnedifthelookofhimdidn’t
sendacrazyrushstraighttoherhormones.

He’dlookedlikeKeanuReevesasaboy.Hewasstilltallandlean,stillhadthedarkhairand

magneticeyes.WearinganItaliansuitandlinenshirt,heradiatedsophistication—evenasrumpled
andexhaustedasheobviouslywas.Evenwhipped,though,shesawthepowerinhisface,inhiseyes.

Theirhistorysuddenlypinchedherheart.He’dfiercelywantedtogetoutofEastwickbackthen—

primarilytoescapehisoverbearing,controllingparents,aproblemshecouldpositivelyrelateto.

She’dwantedtomattermoretohim,tofactormoreinhisdecisions.Andhadn’t.Itwasn’tassimple

asescapingproblemsforGarrett.HeusedtowearaT-shirtthatsaidIt’sMoreFunToPlayInThe
DeepEnd.Andthatwashim.He’dneverwantedaneasylife,didn’texpectone.Hewantedtocarvehis
ownniche,totakealltherisks,tomakeamarkwithhisownnameonit.

Emmaknewfromgossipthathe’dgoneafterhisgoalswithbothresolveandambition—andnever

lookedback.Evenso,hedidn’tlooksomuchlikeahighrollerintheinvestmentworldnow.Closer
up,shecouldseethepinchedlinesaroundhismouth,theanxietyandworryinhisexpression.

“Thanksforwaiting,”hesaid.

Shematchedhissubduedtone.“I’mguessingCaroline’sstillasleep?”

“She’soutforthecount.Ididn’twanttoleaveher…buttheredoesn’tseemanypointinsittingthere

whenshe’ssodeeplyunder.AndIhavetobelievesheneedstherest.”

Emmanoddedinagreement.“I’mguessingyourushedoutofNewYorkthisafternoon?Haveyou

hadachancetogetanydinner?”

Heshookhishead.“ButIdon’twanttogofar.Ifyoudon’tmind,Ijustwanttotalktoyoufora

coupleminutes.”

“Sure.Thehospitalcafeteriaispitiful,butweshouldbeabletoscareupasandwichorsomething

reasonablyedible.”Sherealizedhedidn’twanttobefartherthanrunningdistancefromhissister,but

itwasn’tthathardtopersuadehimintoaquicksnack.

Thefoodchoicesinthecafeteriawereasghastlyasshe’dpromised.Thebesthecouldchoosewas

adryturkeysandwichondrywholewheat,stalechips,acupofpitch-blackcoffee.ButEmmacoaxed
himtocarryitoutside,awayfromthesterilehospitalsmellsandsights.Justbeyondthesidedoors
wasaminilandscapedgardenwithcementbenchesinthemoonlight.

“Feelsgood,”headmitted,takingoneofthebenches.Bothoftheminhaledthefreshair.Asecurity

lightbeamedenoughreflectionsotheyweren’tsittingindarknessyetfeltthefreedomofthe
shadows.Emmacouldalmostseehimrelax—ortryto.

“Ikeepthinkingthisismyfault,”heconfessed.“Carolinecalledmetwicethisweek.Iwasbusier

thanhell,gotthemessages,justplannedtocallherbackwhenIhadtime.Sheneversaiditwas
importantorcritical,butwhenthehospitalcalled,myheartjustseemedtoleapinmythroat.”He
suckedinabreath,turnedtolookather.“Wouldyoutellmewhatyouknow?”

Emmaonlywisheditweremore.“Iseeherquiteoften—intownoratdifferentfunctions.We’renot

ascloseassisters,butI’vethoughtofherasafriendforyears,Garrett.I’dhavehopedsheknewshe
couldturntome.ButtheonlyrecenttroubleIknewshehadwaswithGriff,andthatwasagesago.”

Henodded,unwrappedthesandwich,sighedatthelookofitandthencruncheddown.“Thatwasmy

impression,too.Thatthemarriagehadhealedup.Carolinehadtoldmemorethanoncethattheywere
happierthanthey’deverbeen.”

“That’showitlookedtoeveryone.They’vebeenlikenewlywedsinpublic.I’massumingsomeone

toldyouthathe’sgonerightnow.Athree-orfour-weektriptoChina,Ithinksomeonesaid.But
Carolineneversaidanythingaboutanytroublesincetheyreconciled.”

“Griffalwaystraveled.Ithoughtthatwasoneoftheproblemsbetweenthemoriginally—allhis

timeawayfromher,overseas.”Garrettgulpeddownanotherdrybiteofsandwich.“Idon’tthinkhe’s
beengonelikethisinawhile,though.Andit’sreallyrarethathecouldn’tbereachedbyphone.”

“I’msurehe’llgethereasfastashecan.”

“Rightnowtheonlyquestionthatmattersiswhy’dshedothis?Whatcouldpossiblyhavebeenso

wrongthatshe’dconsidertakingherownlife?”Garrettbuncheduphispaperplateandnapkin.“If
somebodyhurther,I’llfindout.Believeme.ButrightnowIdon’thavethefirstcluewhatcouldhave
beensobadthatshefeltdriventodothis.”

Itwasn’taprettypicture,Garrettconfrontingsomeonewho’dhurthissister.Emmathoughthislean

build,elegantsuitandurbanappearanceweremisleading.Ifshewerestuckinanalleywithamuscle-
boundguyversusGarrett,she’dtakeGarrettanytime.Hisbackbonehadalwaysbeensteel,his
charactertoostubborntoeverbackdown—evenwhenheshould.

“Shehasn’tbeenconfidinginanyone,”Emmasaid.“We’veallaskedeachother.Everyonewantsto

helpandfeelsbadly.Butmaybeshe’llstarttalkingnowthatyou’rehome.”Shehesitated.“Idon’twant
tosayanythingnegativeaboutyourparents,butit’sbeenprettyobviousthatshehasn’twantedtosee

themorsayanythingtothem.”

“Nosurprisethere.”

Hedidn’tsaymoreonthatsubject,buthedidn’thaveto.Emmaknewhisparents.HisKeatingswere

similartoherDearborns.Bothfamilieshadseriousmoney.Bothfamiliespush-pulledtheiroffspring
toplaythedynastygamebytheirrules.

Garretthadneverbeensuckedin.NotthewayEmmaknewshehad.Butshe’dstayedsingle,fought

allherparents’effortstomarryheroff,asawayofdrawingthelineontheircontrol.They’dardently
wantedhertomarryintoa“goodfamily,”haveoffspringtocarryontheDearbornlegacy.

SometimesEmmafeltasifEastwickhadabitincommonwithmedievalcastlelife.Thewealthy

crowdshe’dgrownupwithhadbelievedthatsexwasacommodity,thata“smart”womanmadea
goodmatch,usinganyandalltoolsshehad.Thewomeninherpackknewearlyonthatawomanwas
expectedtosexuallypleaseaman.Itwaspartofthejob—awoman’sjobtoattractandkeepthealpha
guysinthepack.

Maybethatwastherealworld.That’swhatpeoplekepttellingher.Somanypeopleseemedtothink

thatwomenprettieduprelationshipsbycallingthem“love,”whenrealitywassurvival,andsurvival
forawomanmeantnailingthebestprovider.Sexwasapowerfultoolforawomantousetocatchthe
bestguy.FriendsthoughtofEmmaasnaiveforbelievingotherwise.Sheneverarguedwiththem.She
justdidn’twanttolivethatway.Maybetherewasnofairytale,butshepreferredtolivealonethan
inviteasexualrelationshipwhereherperformancecamewithagradeattached.

“What?”Garrettaskedher.“Fromtheexpressiononyourface,something’sonyourmind.”

Sheshookherheadwithawrysmile.Heavenknewwhyhermindhadcurveddownthatroad,

exceptthatshe’dwantedtogiveGarrettachancetofinishhisminimealinpeace.Andbeingwithhim
hadprovokedmemoriesofthatwild,crazyexcitementshe’dfeltwithhim—nothingtodowith
gradingcardsorskillsorsexbeingacommodity.She’djustfiercelywantedhimwithallheryoung
seventeen-year-oldbody.Butthatwasagoofythoughtpath,especiallyforthismoment,whenhehad
somanyseriousthingsonhismind.“Whereareyoustayingwhileyou’rehome?”sheaskedhim.

“Withtheparents.”Hesighed.“Tobehonest,stayingthere’smylastchoiceintheuniverse.Butat

leasttostartwith,Ineedtogetabetterpictureofwhat’sgoingonwithmysister.Theymaynotbe
closetoCarolineemotionally,butI’mstillhopingtheyhavesomeclue.”

“Itjustwon’tberestfulstayingwiththem?”

“Tosaytheleast.”Heturned,anditwasasifhetemporarilyforgotallhisfamilyworries.Notfor

longbutjustforthatmoment,helookedatherfaceframedinmoonlight,herquietsmile.And
suddenlytherejustseemedthetwoofthemaloneintheirownprivateuniverse.“I’mgladIraninto
you.”

Soblunt.Solikehim.“Likewise.It’sgoodtoseeyouagain.Notunderthesecircumstances,but—”

“I’vethoughtofyou.Somanytimes.”Heneverdroppedhiseyes.“IknowIhurtyou,Emma.”

“Yup.Youdid.Butthere’sbeenalotofwaterunderthebridgesincethen.Wewerebothyoung.”

“Icared.Infact,Ilovedyou.”Againhisgazeseemedtosweepherface,herhair,hermouth.Allof

her.“Don’tthinkIdidn’t.ItwasneverthatIwantedtoleaveyou,wantedtohurtyou.Iwasjust
frustratedandangryatthelifeIfeltforcedintohere,alwaysatwarwithmyfather.Icouldn’tstay
here.”

“Iunderstoodthenandnow,Garrett.Thehurt’slonghealed,honestly.”Shesmiled.“Totellyouthe

truth,Ithinkofyou,too.Oncethehurthealed…theywerejustgoodmemories.Nothinglikethatfirst
feelingofbeinglove,isthere?It’sthekindofmemoryyoucantakeoutonarainydayandjust…
enjoy.”

“Trustawomantosoftenitup.WhatIrememberwasasexualhighsodamnedpainfulI’mpositive

Icameclosetodyingfromit.AllthoseFridaynightswetookablankettoSilverPoint…Remember
that?I’dgohomeandspendtherestofthenightinacoldshower.”

Shelaughed.“Yeah,right.”

Hewassmiling,yethiseyebrowssuddenlyliftedinacuriousexpression.“Youdon’tbelieveme?”

“Ibelieveyou’refullofthedevil,nodifferentthanyoualwayswere.”Shewasalongwayfromthe

shyteenagerwhoblushedwhenaguytriedalittleflirting.ButsomehowthelookinGarrett’seyes—
theelectricenergyofbeingwithhimagain—wasputtingahotsizzleinherpulse.Shewastoo
physicallyawareofhimforcomfort.Quickly,competently,shesteeredhimawayfrompersonal
topics.

Itworked.Infact,itmorethanworked.Astheminutespassed,shefeltrelievedthey’dfoundaway

totalknaturallytogetheragain.Heobviouslyneededandwantedtogetbacktohissister,butthese
fewmomentswithsomefreshairandalittlefoodhadeasedthetautstraininhisexpression.He’dso
clearlyneededtoclimbofftheanxietytrainforabit.Soshetoldhimaboutthecurrentscandalin
town—BunnyBaldwin’sdeath,theinfamousmissingdiaries,everyoneworryingaboutwhatsecrets
Bunnyhadknown,JackCartwrightbeingblackmailedandhismarryingLilyandhowmuch
happinesshadcomeoutofthathorriblemessinthelongrun….

Shedidn’ttalklong,justenoughtofillhiminonthetown’spersonalities.Theinstanthestartedto

lookrestless,shestoodup,andthenswiftlysodidhe.

“Iknow,”shesaidwithouthishavingtospeakup.“You’regoingbacktoCaroline.AndIneedto

headhomeandgetsomesleep.”

“Idoneedtogetbackupstairs.Butforallthiscatchingup,Istilldidn’ttakethechancetoask

anythingaboutyou.”Quickasasliver,heasked,“So—youaren’tstillontheloose,areyou?Youina
goodmarriage?”

“I’mengaged.”Theinstantthewordscameoutofhermouth,shefeltaflushofguiltbecause,

damn,shehadn’tthoughtofReedinhoursnow.Notthatshe’ddoneanythingwrong.Shehadn’t
touchedGarrettorkissedhimordoneanythingsuggestiveinanyway.

Yettheinstantshesaidengaged,hisexpressionimmediatelychanged.Itwasn’tasifhestopped

smilingather,but…thelightswentoff.Hequicklyclosedadooronpossibilitiesthat,untilthat
instant,shehadn’trealizedwasopen.

Yetonherdrivebacktotheartgallery,aloneinthedark,sheadmittedfibbingtoherself.

ShemightnothavetouchedGarrett,butshe’dthoughtaboutit.

Shemightnothavetakenhispersonalcommentsseriously,butherheartbeathadbeengalloping

likeayounggirl’s.

Shemightnothavedoneanythingwrong,butherdisloyaltytoReedwasstillreal.Andwrong.

Mostofthetimeshelivedatherparents’house,whereshehadaprivatesuiteofroomsonthe

secondfloor.Oftenenough,though,sheworkedlateatthegalleryandthenjuststayedintown.
Tonightitwasalreadytoolatetodrivehome,sosheletherselfinthebackdoorofColorandslipped
offhershoes.

Severalyearsbefore,she’dconvertedasmallanteroomoffthefirstfloorintoahomeawayfrom

home.Shekeptbooks,cosmetics,severalchangesofclothesthere,buttheroomhadslowlybeen
fillingupwiththeoddestassortmentoftreasures.Atwo-centuries-oldChinesedesk,candleswrapped
inanecklaceofamethysts,awhitefurrugbythebed,anarrowLouisXIVmirror…Sheshookher
headatthewildassortmentoftenenough.Theywerethingssheloved,buttheycertainlydidn’t
representanystandarddecoratingstyle.Thesilliestofallwasaframedsign—ShallWeDanceinthe
Kitchen?—thatmeantnothingatall,exceptthatsometimesshewishedshewerethatwhimsicaland
romantic.Orthatshecouldbe.

Plunkingdownonthebed,shekickedoffhershoesandphonedherparentstoletthemknowshe’d

bestayingintown,thengotreadyforbedandswitchedoffthelight.Shewasbeat,yetsomehowshe
laythereforhours,staringatthefilmofwhitecurtainswhisperinginthewindow.Garrettrefusedto
leavehermind.

Itmadenosense.Hewasthewrongman.Reedwastherightman,themanshewassupposedtobe

marrying.Sowhycouldn’tshestopGarrettfromhauntingeverycornerofherthoughts?

Inthemorning,shepromisedherself,she’dcallReed.Firstthing.Anduntilthen,shementally

slappedherselfupsidetheheadanddeterminedtosquashhershamefulattitude.

Atleastshetriedto.

Garretthadn’tmeanttodozeoff,buthemusthave.Becausewhenheopenedhisscratchyeyes,his

neckandkneeswerecrampedfromsittinginthestraight-backchair.Thewallclockclaimedmore

thananhourhadpassed…andhissister ’seyeswereopen.

Helurchedoutofthechair,exhaustionforgotten,ashepickedupCaroline’shand.Hehated

hospitals.Neverknewwhattosayordo.Butonelookathissister—herfaceaspaleasthesheets,and
thesadlookinhereyesscaringhim—andhewantedtoshootsomeone.

“Garrett.”Shesaidhisnameasiftryingtotalkthroughamouthfuloffuzz.Still,herfrailvoice

managedtocommunicatereliefandloveatseeinghim.

“I’msorryIdidn’tcallyouback.Beyondsorry,”hesaidfiercely.“Idon’tknowwhyyoudidthis,

sis,andIdon’tcare.I’llhelpyoumakeitright.”

Shetriedtoshakeherhead.Theeffortseemedtoexhausther.“Youcan’t.But…gladyoucame.”

Shelickeddrylips.“Loveyou.”

“Loveyou,too.Iwantyoutorest.Wedon’thavetotalkaboutanythinguntilyou’reready.Ijust

wantyoutoknowthatI’mhere.I’llbehere.AndIwon’tletanyonepressureyouaboutanything,I
swear—”

“Garrett…”Herfingersclosedweaklyaroundhiswrist.“Iknowyouwanttohelpme.Butyou

can’tfixthis.Noonecan.Ididsomething…terrible.”

Shefellasleepbeforehecouldaskanythingelse,beforeshecouldtrysayinganythingelse.Garrett

wasn’tusedtoanythingshakinghim,butthedefeatandfearinhissister ’svoicerattledhimhard.He
satthere,worryingupastorm,untilanursecameinandshooedhimout.

He’dhavebattledthenurse—andwon—ifhethoughttherewasanythingfurthertogainfrom

stayingwithCaroline.Butrightthenitwasobvioussheneededrestmorethananything.Andifhe
wantedachancetogettothebottomofhissister ’smess,heneededtogetsomeresthimself.

TheKeatingestatewasashortfivemilesfromtown,atwo-storybrickhousesetonahillside,with

acurveddeckandasculptedslopinglawn.Itloomedinthemoonlightlikeagothiccastle.Heusedhis
oldhousekey,lethimselfinthekitchenentranceandimmediatelysteppedoutofhisshoes,not
wantingtowakehisparentsoranyofthehouseholdstaff.

Itstruckhisironicsenseofhumorthatheusedtotiptoejustlikethiswhenhewasateenager

sneakinglateintothehouse.Onestepintothelivingroomandhisbigtoecrashedintoachairleg.
Thatwasadéjàvu,too.

Moonlightfloodedinthewindows,sothatoncehiseyesadjustedherealizedhismotherhad

redecoratedagain.ThedecorthistimeseemedtobesomeFrenchperiod.Lotsofgiltandtassels.Lots
ofmeanfurniturelegs.Veryelegant,ifyouwentforthatsortofthing.Garrettdidn’t,andhistoewas
stinginglikeabanshee.

“Garrett!”Hisfatherswitchedonthelightfromthepaneleddoorsatthestairway.

“Dad.”Heofferedthehug,knowinghisfatherwouldn’tthinkto.“I’msorry.Ididn’tmeantowake

you.”

“Youdidn’t.”Merrittworepajamas,buthisiron-grayhairwasbrushed,hiseyestiredbutalert.

“YourmotherandIarebothup.Waitingforyou.Hopingyou’dgottensomethingoutofCarolinethat
wedidn’t.”

Upstairs,hisparentshadaminilivingroomofftheirsleepingquarters.Whiskeywaspoured,neat.

Hismotherpeckedhischeek,thencurledonthecouchinthewindowseatbythebaywindows.“Ihope
youtalkedtoher,”Barbarasaidimmediately.

Garrettplunkeddownonanoversizefootstool.Hewasn’tabouttoreplayhissister ’swords.“I

stayedforafewhours,butshewassleepingdeeply.”

“Ijustdon’tunderstandwhyshe’ddothistous!”

Garrettdidn’texpecteitherparenttoaskhowhewas,howhislifewasgoing.Theconversationwas

immediatelyaboutthem.“Carolinedidn’tdoanythingtoyou.Shedidittoherself.”

Hismotherrubbedhertemplesasifshewereattheendofherrope.“That’sthepoint.That’sthe

exactpoint.Everyonewilltalk.EspeciallywithallthisscandalaboutBunny’sdeathandthose
diaries…Nowthere’sjustmorefueltothegossipfire.Peoplecouldthinkwedidsomething,when
youknowwegavethatgirleveryadvantageadaughtercouldpossiblyhave.Iswear,Carolinewas
selfishfromthedayshewasborn—”

“Mom.She’stroubled.Shehastobeinmajordespairoversomethingorshe’dneverhavedone

this.”

“Oh,pfft.”Barbarastoodup,wavingherglass.“She’sspoiledandwantsattention.Likealways.She

doesn’tthinkofmeoryourfather.Orourreputationinthecommunity.Shehaseverythingsheever
wantedinthislife,butdoessheeverthinkofus?”

Okay.He’dbeeninhisparents’housealloftenminutesandalreadyhewantedtosmashawall.

Thatfast,herememberedwhyhe’dleftEastwickandneverlookedback.

Later,though,whenhelayinbedinthespareroom,herecalledhowhardithadbeentoleavehis

youngersisteralonebackthen.Andmorethanthat,howpainfulithadbeentoleaveEmma.

Rightnowitjustdidn’tmatterifhisparentsdrovehimascrazyastheyalwayshad.Hecouldn’t

leavehissistertothewolves.UntilherhusbandcamehomefromChina—anduntilGarrettwas
certainshewasgoingtobeallright—hewasstayinghere.Whichmeanthehadtofindawaytomake
hisbusinessworkhereforanindefiniteperiodoftime.

Beforedriftingofftosleep,Emma’sfacewhiskedintohismindagain.Herthick,glossyhairused

toswishallthewaydownherback.Nowsheworeitshoulderlength,butitwasstilllikemoonlight
onblacksilk.Soraven-dark,sorich,yetwithlightineverystrand.Hersoftmouthwasasevocative
asithadalwaysbeen.Sowerethoseunforgettableeyes,sodeepbluetheywerealmostpurple.Eyesa
guycouldgetlostin.

Godknowshehad.

Itstillpuzzledhimthatshehadn’tlookedathimlikeanengagedwoman.

Andthatherclassyclothesshowedoffasuccessful,poisedwoman…yetthatwasn’thowshe’d

lookedathimeither.

Fromthefirstsecondtheireyesmet,he’dsuddenlyrememberedrollinginthegrasswithher.

Stealingkissesafterfootballgames.Pressingherupagainstthelockerafterschool,feelingher
breastsagainsthischest,pretendingtobetalkingabouthomework.She’dblushandflushandfluster,
butthenshe’dlookathimfromunderthosethickblackeyelashes.Teasinghim.Emmahadloved
turninghimon,lovedthepowerofit,thefunofit,thejoyofit.They’dtemptedwickedeverywhich
wayfromSunday.She’dmadehimhotterthanfire—andfarmorefrustrated.

She’dbeenshybackthen,butthere’dbeennoguiletoher,noabilitytoholdback.Forsurethere’d

beennodistance.There’djustbeenallthathonest,helplessyoung-womanheatinhereyes.Thedare-
you-to-melt-my-boneslook.She’dturnedhimintoputty.

Andhe’dloveddyingfromallthosehard-onswithnorelease.

Buthellanddamnation,ifshewasengaged,howcomeshe’dstilllookedathimthatway?

Unguarded,winsome…asifsheweredyingtofeelthosefeelingsagain.Withaman.Withhim.

You’reimaginingallthis,hetoldhimself—andknewitwastrue.Hewassoul-tired,beyondthe

abilitytothinkclearly.Heneededagoodnight’ssleep—andthenheneededtoconcentrateonhis
sister.

Notonawomanwhowasalreadyclaimedbysomeoneelse.

Three

Afewmorningslater,EmmastoodoutsideColorwithacontractor.She’dbeenrunningnonstop,

organizinghertraditionalartshowinJuly,whenshe’drunintoamajormaintenanceproblem.

Thecontractorhikeduphisjeans.“Actually,ma’am,thehousedidn’tsuddenlystarttosinkonthat

side.Theproblemwaslikelydevelopingoveralongperiodoftime.”

“Well,noonenoticeditbefore.”Emmawantedtotearoutherhair.Amaintenanceproblem

certainlywasn’tnews.Two-hundred-year-oldhousesregularlydevelopedghastlyailments.Ifit
wasn’tdryrotoneyear,itwascorrodedwiringortermitesthenext.“Ijustcan’thaveabigmessright
now!CanweputofftheworkuntilOctober?”

“Well,Iwouldn’t,ma’am.”

“Youcallmema’amonemoretimeandyouwon’tseeOctober,either,”shesaidcrossly,and

sighed.“Okay.Let’sheartheplan.”

“Yeah,well,we’regonnaputupnewhousejacks.Takedownyouroldporchpillars.Reframe

pillarsaroundthenewhousejacks,buthinged,like,sothey’reaccessible.Thatwaywecoulddothis
slow,pushupthatsecondstoryasmidgeonatatime.Don’twanttocrackthisprettyfoundation,now,
dowe?”

Emma’seyesnarrowed.Hewassotwinkly.“Butwhydidthehousedecidetosinknow?”

“Takingawildguessnow…butprobablybecausethehouseisolderthanthehillsandthensome?”

“Easyforyoutojoke.You’regoingtochargeme,what,fivefigures?”

“Yup,inthatgeneralballpark,”heconfirmed.

Andtherewastherealrottenapple.HerthirtiethbirthdaywasonAugustthirty-first—soclosenow,

butnotcloseenoughtoaccessthetrustfundhergrandmotherhadestablishedforher.Inthe
meantime,sheknewherparentswouldfloatherthemoney,buttherewasalwaysaheavypricetagfor
thosegifts.

Toaddtothemorning’sconfusion,Joshchosethatmomenttopokehisheadoutthebackdoor.

“Mrs.Dearborn’sonthephone,Emma—”

“Ifyoudon’tmind,justtellmymomI’llcallherback,okay?Thanks—”

She’dbarelygiventhecontractortheokaytodestroyherspringbudgetwhenshenoticedawoman

pauseatthegateofthewhitepicketfence.Thewomanwassofamiliarandyetnot.Yearsbefore,
Emmahadattendedhighschoolwithagirlwhohadcurly,waist-lengthhair;worewildly
unconventionalclothesandhadanirrepressiblerebelliousstreak.Thiswomanwasgroomedtothe

teeth,agrown-updebutantebyEastwickstandardsineveryway,yettherewasjustsomething…
“Mary?”shecalledouthesitantly.“MaryDuvall?Isthatreallyyou?”

“Iwaswonderingifyou’drecognizeme,”thewomansaid.

“AsifIcouldeverforgetyou!”Emmaflewacrossthelawntowhiskopenthegateanddrawher

oldfriendintoahugehug,theday’sfrustrationsimmediatelyforgotten.“Ithoughtyouwerestillin
Europe,livingthehighlife.It’swonderfultoseeyou!”

“You,too,Emma.AndGod,Icouldsmackyou.You’reasbeautifulasever,except…”Herold

schoolfriendlaughedasshenotedthebitofclayunderEmma’sfingernails.“What’sthis?”

“Ivolunteeracoupleofhoursaweekatthelocalgriefcenter,workingwiththelittleones—andI

meanreallylittleones,thepre-Kset.Idofingerpaintingwiththemordrawingorclay.Loveit…”
Shechattedonamomentmore,tryingtoabsorbthechangesinheroldfriend.Maryhaddisappeared
rightaftergraduationtogopartyinEurope.Shewasanartist,Emmahadheard.Itwasjust…
unnervingtoseeherdressedlikeadowagergoingtoateapartywhenshe’dalwaysbeenso
flamboyantandunconventional.“Whatareyoudoingintown?Anychanceyou’rebackforgood?”

“IhavenoideahowlongI’llbehere.RightnowI’mjusthereformygrandfather.He’snotwell.At

hisage,therearen’talotofgreatchoices,youknow?Buthecan’tbealone,soI’mjustgoingtolive
withhimforawhile.”MarymotionedtotheColorssign.“ThelasttimeIwashome,yourgallerywas
justadream.”

“She’sstillmydream,”Emmaadmittedwithachuckleandthensnappedherfingers.“Say,didyou

bringanyworkhomewithyou?Anythingyou’dlikemetodisplay?Ihavearoomforlocalartists,
butespeciallyforyou,I’dalwaysfindaspecialspot.”

“Maybe.Ididbringsomeworkwithme.IfiguredI’dbesittingwithmygrandfatheralot,soI

mightaswellsetupaneaselwhileIwashome….Inthemeantime,what’snewwithyou?Married
now,kidsoranything?”

“Engaged.ToReedKelly.”

“You’rekidding!Reed,thehorsebreeder?Theracehorses—”

“Yup,that’shim.”

“Hewasolderthanusinschool,soIdidn’tknowhimwell,butIalwaysthoughthewassuchagreat

guy—”

“Heis,heis….”YetEmmafeltasuddenodditchinthemiddleofherback.Nothingpainful.Justas

ifamosquitohadsuddenlynailedher.

ShepurposefullyignoreditandtalkedafewmoreminuteswithMaryuntilshehadtoleave,and

heavenknewEmmahadmountainsofworkstillwaitingforher.Messageshadaccumulatedinher
office—threefromhermother.Afund-raiserhermotherwantedtoattend,aribboncuttingonanew

boutique,areceptionforavisitingsenator.NothingEmmawantedtodo.All,shesuspected,thatshe’d
getropedinto.Joshwasframingasetofcanvasesinthebackroom—stealingherfavoritejob,orso
sheteasedhim.

She’djustrunoutsidetoacceptadeliveryfromUPSwhenshespottedGarretthikingdownthe

walkofthereal-estateofficeacrosstheway.Heturnedinthedirectionofhergallery—probably
becausehiscarwasparkedonMaple—yetheseemedtoglanceinherdirectionalmostinstinctively.

Hissmilewasimmediate.Hisstridequickened.Bythetimehe’dcrossedthestreet,shehadthe

oddestsensationthathe’dbeentakingherin,headtotoe.Asaboy,he’dalwayshadthosebedroom
eyes—butteenageboysalwayshadtheirmindsononething.Itwascompletelydifferentfeeling
assessed—andappreciated—byamanwhoknewwomen,whoknewhowmuchfun—andhow
dangerous—therightkindofchemistrycouldbe.

Shewasn’tusuallyself-consciousaboutherappearance,butthiswasoneofherfreedays.She’dnot

onlystartedthemorningworkingwithlittlekidsbuthadalsoexpectedtospendtherestoftheday
withboxesandframesandladders.Herhairwascasuallypinnedupwithasimpleenamelclip.She
waswearinglipstickandhergrandmother ’sstar-sapphireearrings,butthatwasitforthefussing.Her
twillswereancient,herpurpleshirttoooversizetobeflattering.Yetheseemedtothinkshelooked
good,becauseasexualchargekindledinhiseyes.

Shefeltexactlythesamepotentcharge…anditscrapedonherconscience.Thatfirstnight,shehad

excuses—hissisterwasill,shehadn’tseenhiminsolong,shewastired,allthatstuff.Butnowshe
knewthatsizzlewasstrong,knewitwasn’tright,yetawarenessofhimstilltiptoeduphersenseslike
awickedsecret.

Evenso,whensherealizedthathewasobviouslyheadedforher,shedidthehospitablethingand

methimattheedgeoftheyard.

“Amazingwhatriffraffthisneighorhoodattracts,”sheteased.

Helaughed.“Sothisisyourgallery?”

“Sureis.”Shehesitated,notwantingtoinvitetroublebutfeelingtheincreasingneedtounderstand

whyhestillhadsuchatormentingpullforher.“I’vegotamountainofstufftodo—betyoudo,too—
butcomeinifyouhaveafewminutes.I’llgetyouacupofcoffee,showyouaround…How’s
Caroline?”

Hesuckedinabreath.“Notgreat.She’sstillnottalking—butsomethingclearlyhappenedtoher.

Thisisn’tlikeachemicaldepression.Somethingspecificallyhadtotriggerthis,somethingthat’s
killingher.Youhaven’theardanygossipintown?”

“Tonsofit.ButnothingeveraboutCaroline.Everyonelikesher,Garrett.Andeveryonewashoping

sheandGriffwouldgetbacktogetherwhentheyhitthatroughpatch.”Sheledhiminside.“Has
anyonereachedherhusbandyet?”

“Theykeeptrying.Messageshavebeenleftatallhiscontactpoints,soit’sjustamatterofhim

checkingin.DeepinsideChina,communicationsjustaren’twhattheyarehere.”

Joshpokedhisheadouttosayhello.ShebroughtoutamugofjavaforGarrett,thengottrappedon

thetelephonewithacustomer.Bythetimeshecaughtupwithhim,he’dobviouslybeenfreely
wanderingaround.“MyGod,Emma,whatyou’vemadeofthisplace.”

Hisenjoymentbuoyedherspiritsasnothingelsecouldhave,soshecouldn’tresistshowingoff

someofherfavorites.Rightinsidethelobbywasafishtank—notfilledwithfishbutwithamermaid
sculptedinmarbleandinlaidwithpreciousandsemi-preciousstones.“Ifoundtheartist—andthis
crazy,wonderfulpiece—inatinyjewelrystoreinupstateNewYork.”

“Oneofthosewho-can-believe-itkindofthings?She’s…riveting.Hardtotakeyoureyesoffher.”

ThatwasexactlyhowEmmahadalwaysfelt.“Comeon,I’llwhiskyouaroundupstairs.”

Shedidn’thavetocoaxhim.Todayhewaswearingcasualchinos,adarkpolo.Asateenager,he’d

beenaworkaholicandahard-coreoverachieveryetalwaysfriendlyandgregarious.Hewasstilleasy
totalkto,butmaturityhadgivenhimaninnerquietness.Hisemotionsdidn’tshowthewaytheyused
to.Hehadthatmover-and-shakerlook,thatkindofvirile,vitalenergy,evenwithhisemotionslocked
outofsight.Shewondered—shehoped—thathe’dfoundsomeonetolovehim.Reallylovehim.
Becauseheseemedvitallyalone.

Beware,whisperedherhormones.

Butshewasawarenowandhadeveryintentionofbeingcareful.

Surelyitwasn’twrongtofeelcompassionforhim,though.Hissisterwasinthemiddleofa

frighteningcrisis,afterall.

SheshowedhimherOrientallacquerroomandthelong,skinnyhallwhereshedisplayedarange

ofOrientalcarpets.Shereservedthefareastroomforwomen’sart—sculptures,oils,watercolors,
cameosofwomeninallshapesandforms.Thewestroomacrossthehallechoedarangeofartabout
males—mensleeping,studying,working,fighting,enjoyingguyhobbies.Downafewdoorswasher
“roomoflight,”whichdisplayedworkwithgems.

“Sheesh,Emma.You’veputtogetherthemostuniquegalleryI’veeverseen,”hesaid.“Thewayyou

presenteverythingisjust…fun.Butit’salsothoughtfulandinteresting.”

“Quitbeingsonice.It’sgoingtomyhead.”Butdamn,itwasnicetoshareherlove.She’dputaton

ofthoughtintoeveryroom,everypiecesheusedfordisplay,everyartistshechosetorepresent.
“Hey,youhaven’tsaidwhatyouweredoingatthereal-estateoffice.Yousuddenlythinkingabout
buyingpropertyinEastwick?”

“Whenhellfreezesover,”hesaidwryly,buthemotionedtothesheafofpapersunderhisarm.“I

pickedupalistofshort-termrentalsfromtheagent.”

“Ithoughtyou’dplannedtostayhome?”

“SodidI.”Histonewasrueful.“Ishouldhaveknownthatwouldn’twork.ButnowthatI’vebeen

aroundCaroline,talkedtoherdoctors,I’mafraidI’mgoingtobehereforawhile.Atleastafew
weeks.”

“Oh,Garrett.You’rethatworriedyoursisterisn’tgoingtorecoverfromthis?”

“Ijustdon’tknow.Infact,allIknowisthatIcan’tleaveher.AndI’lllikelygetonbetterwithmy

parentsifI’mnotundertheirfeet—andthey’renotundermine.”Hewalkedintotheupstairs
bathroom—justtoseewhatshe’ddoneinthere,asifheknewshe’ddonesomething.Andshehad.The
ceilingwasamuralofgraphiccomicart,allsuperheroes.Hecameoutchuckling—andclaimingto
haveacrookinhisneck—butheprettyswiftlyreturnedtotheirconversation.

“Anyway…IdecidedI’dbetterlookforsomealternativelivingarrangement.Sofar,though,I’m

notthrilledwiththeplacesthereal-estateagentcameupwith.Allofthemareadistancefromtown.I
don’twantthat,don’twanttostayinahoteleither.It’seasyenoughformetoflyorhelicopterinto
NewYorkseveraltimesaweek.AllIneedisasimpleplacetosetupatemporaryoffice.Abed,a
minikitchen.Somequiet.Aplacetosetupacomputer,fax,printer,thatsortofthing.Idon’twant
anythingfancyorfar.”

Shefrownedthoughtfullyassheledhimbackdownstairs.“Ifyouwantaplaceintown,Iactually

knowofone.Justtwodoorsdown,infact.”

Garrettraisedaneyebrow.“Theagentclaimedtherewasnothingcloseintown.”

“That’sbecauseit’snotontheformalmarket.”Sheexplainedthesituation.Mostoftheoldhomes

ontheblockusedtoberesidential,butthey’dbeengraduallyturningintobusinesses—lawyers,
accountants,psychologists,brokers,thatkindofthing.Notthekindofcommercethatrequiredbig
parkingneeds,butquietenterprisesthatwerewillingtomaintainthehistoricalflavorofthebuildings.
“Anyway,myneighbor,MariettaCollins,isaholdout.Sherentedherupstairstoaboarder,awriter,
onlyherecentlymoved.Shedidn’tlistitbecausesheonlywantstorenttofriendsoffriends.Ihave
noideawhattheplacelookslike,Garrett,somaybeitwon’tsuityouatall.Butifyoulike,Icouldcall
her…”

Hedidlike.ItonlytookEmmaasecondtodialandfindouttheplacewasstillavailableforrent.

Garrettblinkedattheprice.

“Ican’timaginewhyshe’sgivingitaway.”

“Well,itcouldbeaclunker.ButIthinkshejustreallywantssomeoneshecantrustlivingabove

her.”

“Goodthingyouhadpull,huh?”Fromtheamusedsparkleinhiseyes,Garrettwasobviouslynot

usedtoanyonehavingtopullstringsforhim—likelyitwasusuallytheotherwayaround.

“Well,you’dbetterseeitbeforeyougetyourhopesup.Youmightdecidethereal-estateagenthad

betterideasforyou.”

“Therereallyisn’tmuchtorent.YouknowhowEastwickis.Everyonewantstoown.Andnoone’s

lookingtoencouragetransients.”

ShehadtolaughattheideaofGarrettbeingconsideredatransient.Andthoughheexpressed

concernoverstealinganymoreofherworkday,shewalkedovertotheplacewithhim.Sheknew
Mariettawouldbeuneasywithoutapersonalintroduction—andshewasalsoalittleworriedwhatshe
mighthavegottenhiminto.Iftheplacewasadisaster,shedidn’twanthimtofeelobligatedtotakeit
becauseofher.

MarriettaCollinstookonelookatGarrett,beamedandpromptlygavethemthekeytocheckoutthe

upstairsattheirleisure.

Emma’simpressionoftheapartmentwastheoppositeofGarrett’s.“Well,itisn’texactlyagarret,

Garrett,but—”

“Thatpunissick.I’vealwayslikedasicksenseofhumorinawoman.”

Shehadtochuckle—buttheapartmentwashardlywhatGarrettmustbeusedto.Afewcenturies

before,thestructurehadbeenatavernwherecustomerssleptupstairs—apparentlynexttoeachother,
sincetherewasonlyonemainroom.Obviouslythedetailshadbeenmodernized,butthecore
architecturehadbeenpreserved.Themellowoldfloorboardscreakedandgroaned,butthey’d
obviouslybeentreasured,becausetheywerepolishedtoahighgleam.Honey-pinepanelingframeda
smallstonefireplace.Thebathroomwasstrictlyutilitarian,butthetinykitchenareahadaneating
nooktuckedunderagracefulPalladianwindow,shadedbygiantelmsjustoutside.

“Thefurniture’sthepits,”Emmasaidruefully.

Garrettwascheckingouteverywindowview.“Spokenlikeawoman,”heteased.“There’sacouch

andachair.WhatmoredoIneed?”

“Somelamps.Somepictures.Somerugs,”shefussed.

“It’sgotadecentdesk.”Hemotionedtotherelicthatmay—may—havebeenateacher ’sdeskin

somecenturypast.Emmalovedantiques,butinthiscaseshethoughtsomeoneshouldhavehadthe
sensetothrowitout—inthatsamecenturypast.

“IguessIjustassumedthere’dbeaseparatebedroom.”Insteadadoublebedwastuckedinaside

alcove,slantedundertheeaves.

“Thiswaythere’llbelotsofairflow.Idealinthesummer.”

Shecheckedoutthekitchen,sincehedidn’tseeminterestedinopeningdrawersandcupboards

there.“It’sultraclean.Whichisgood.Butthereisn’tasingleplateordish.Nopans.Notevenasingle
setofsilverware.”

“Dishes.Whowantsdishes?Theplacehasoutlets.Lotsofoutlets.”Hebouncedbacktohisfeet

afterexaminingthelocationofalltheelectricalplugs.“Nosweatsettingupasystemhere.Andthe

windowsaregreat.Lotsoflight.”

Sheshookherhead.Therewaslotsoflightbecausethewindowswerebaldofanycurtainsor

shades—butGarrettwashappierthanakidatthecircus.Whocouldfathommen?Hewasusedto
money.Bigmoney.Nicethings,conveniences.“Well,itwouldn’ttaketoomuchtomakeitatleast
livable.Anditreallyisprettynicefortheprice—”

“Nice?Nice?Iwaspreparedtopitchatent.Thisisbetterthanadream.”

Thelunaticjoggedovertoher,makingherlaugh…untilshesawsomethingunexpectedinhiseyes.

Maybehehadn’tgivenintoafoolish,exuberantimpulseinsolongthathe’dforgottenwhatitwas
like.Shewasn’tabsolutelypositiveheevenknewhewasgoingtokissher.

Butsheknewbeforehewashalfwayacrosstheroom.High-poweredmenhadhigh-powereddrives.

Sometimesthereleasevalveslippedopenwhenitshouldn’t.AnddebutantesraisedinEastwick
weren’tsoft;theyonlylookedthatway.Emmaknewwhatwashappening,knewhowtogetoutofa
problemlikethisgracefully.

Andthatwaswhatsheintended—tocarefullyduckawayfromhim.Butheswoopeddownonher

withnoneofthefinesseandskillandtechniquesheremembered.Hewasjustaguyhighonlifefor
thatinstant.Justaguywithagoofysmileonhisface,swinginghisgirlaroundinacircletomakeher
squeal…justalittlehappinesslettingloose,nothingdangerous,nothingwicked.

Thefeelingofhislong,strongarmswrappingaroundhertriggered…something.Astillnessdeep

insideher.Shesuddenlywasn’tlaughing—orsquealing.Insteadherlipstilteduptomeethis,asifthat
weretheonlychoiceshehad.Theonlychoiceshe’deverhad.

SuddenlytheonlysoundintheroomwasthesweetJunewindwhisperingintheopenwindow.He

tookhermouthasifheweredesperateforthetasteofher.Shemoldedclose,asifsheweredesperate
tobeheld,notbysomeone,notbyaman,butspecifically,ohsospecifically,byhim.Thetasteofhim
createdafierce,strongpulldeepinherbelly.

Shelostherbalance.Hefoundit.Shelosthersenses,andhestolethose,too,liftinghishead,

searchinghereyeswithonelong,stillmoment…andthengoingbackforanotherkiss.Thistimewith
theglovesoff.

Tonguefoundtongue.Teethfoundteeth.Hishandsheldherheadstill,then,impatient,pulledatthe

cliptrappingherhair.Herhairspilledfree,throughhisfingers.Shewrappedherhandsaroundhis
wrist,butitdidn’tslowhimdown,didn’tstophim.Didn’tseemtostophereither.

Asifherbreastshadneverknownaman,theirtipstightenedandhardened,yetshepressedcloser.

Theybothbeganadanceofintimacy—adancewithoutmusicyetsoaboutrhythm,soaboutthesway
ofbreasttomuscle,ofsoftpelvistoturgiderection.Thedriftofherscentwaltzedtothescentofhis
soap,hisskin,him.Anotherdip,anotherkiss,andherheartpickedupafasterrhythmnow,asifhe’d
suddenlyspunherintoatangountilshecouldn’tcatchherbreath.Hisbreath,hiskisses,thestrength
ofhiships,pressedagainsthers,enticedhertomovewithhim,towanthim.

Want.

Whatawordforawomanwho’dhadnotimeforsex,whowasimpatientatthewholeideaofhow

muchimportanceeveryoneelseputonsex.Whojustwantedtoliveherlifewithpassionforallthe
wonderfulthingslifeofferedbutnotforpassion.

Okay,shekepttellingherself.Okay.Thisissomekindofaberration.Ghostsaren’treal.

Hallucinationsaren’treal.Hewasterriblystressed,shefigured.Thatwasallthiswasreallyabout.
He’dalwaysbeenaworkaholicbeyondallsanity,sothenhe’dcomehomeandbeenterriblyworried
abouthissister—andhe’dneverbeenaguywhotoleratedfrustrationwell.

Yeah.Thatwasit.Hewasjustlettingoffsteamwiththesekisses.

Onlyshewasn’t.Shedidn’thavesteamtoletoff.This…clingingtohim.Thiswildly,fiercely

kissinghimback.Thisteasinghim,rubbingagainsthim….noneofthismadesense.Itwasn’ther.

Thiswasn’tsex.Thiswasheart-altering.Thiswasn’tpassion.Itwastouchingatsomeotherlevel.

Down,down,downatthedeep,sadlonelinesslevel.Damnit,shehadn’tbeenlonelyinallthistime.
Shehadn’t.

Yethemadeherfeelthatway.

Asifshe’dbeenalonesincethey’dlastkissedasteenagers.Asifshe’dneedednooneuntilthis

moment.Asifshe’dbeencopingfine—whichshehad,shehad—untilGarrettcamehomeandtook
hermouththiswayandmadeitallcomecrumblingdown.

Shefelthishandssoothingdownherback,seducingwitheveryrub,everycaress.Hismouthstill

tookmorekisses,tookownershipofhersenses.Hespunheraround,pressedheragainstahoney-
pinewall.Theroughpinefeltgoodagainstherspine,areliefafterthatdangeroussilkmouthofhis.
Hishandsroamedherarmsnow,thenwhisperedbetweenthem,reachingforherblousebuttons.

Hereyesshotopen.

Hehadn’tfeltherbarebreastsyet.Theyhadn’tremovedanyclothes.Butacoupleminutesmoreof

this,andEmmawouldhavepeeleddownwithouthisasking.Withoutanytalk.Withoutherthinking
evenonceofherfiancé.

Shebrokeaway,slidoutfromunderhisarms,lookedathim—stricken—andthenshotoutthedoor

anddownthestairs.

Four

Atfirsttheskyonlydribbleddown,butinamatterofminutestherainturnedintoaflushing

downpour.Emmaflickedthewindshieldwipersonhigh,buttheycouldn’tkeepup.Thewindows
startedtosteam.ThankfullyReed’splacewasonlyafewmoremiles,becauseshecouldbarelysee.

HernervesechoedthesnapoflightningasshefinallyreachedthesignforRosedaleFarms.

Shehadtoseeherfiancé.Now.Thisafternoon.

Theembraceshe’dsharedwithGarrettwasstillgluedonhermind—andheart.Itwaswrongin

everywaytohavekissedanothermanwhenshewasengaged.Andworsethanthat—much,much
worse—wasrealizingshe’drespondedtoGarrettmorehonestlyandpassionatelythanshe’dever
respondedtoReed.

She’dassumedtheoldsizzleshe’doncefeltforGarrettwasthestuffofyounghormonesandfirst

love—thekindofthingawomanoutgrew.Shehonestlydidn’tknowshehadthatkindofsexualityor
sensualityinher.Didn’tknowlifeevenheldthatpossibilityforher.Andshehadnoideawhatallthese
feelingsforGarrettmeant,ifanything.Butrightnowwasn’tthetimetodealwiththat.

RightnowwhatsheabsolutelyhadtodealwithwasfacingReed.Therewasnomoredenyingthat

somethingwasgravely,fundamentallywrongwiththeirrelationship.Maybeshe’drealizedbefore
thattheyhardlyhadagrandpassionforeachother,butnotthattheyweremissingsomething
criticallyelemental.

Herwholeworldfeltshaken.Shekepttellingherselfthatafewkissesfromanoldloveshouldn’t

havethepowertoupendherlife.ButrealitywasmorethatseeingGarrettagainhadforcedopenold,
carefullylockedemotionaldoors.She’dnevermeanttolietoherself,butitseemedshehad.

Anxietythrummedinherpulse.She’dneverdeliberatelyrunfromtroubleorresponsibility.Her

motherhadtaughtherthat.Hermom,foraslongasEmmacouldremember,hadsneakedlittlenips
allthroughtheday“justtotaketheedgeoff.”Emmarememberedherchildhoodasnonstoptiptoeing,
tryingtobequietforhermother,tryingnottogivehermomyetanotherreasontotakeoneofthose
infernalnips.Sono,Emmawasalongwayfromperfect.Shedidthingswrong,mademistakes,
sometimesbadmistakes.

Butatleastshedidn’trun.

Yeah,right,shethoughtwrylyasshebrakedinfrontofthestables.Herheartwasthumpinglouder

thanthunder.Everywhereshelookedthereweretonsofvehicles—thebighousealwayshadabunch
ofcarsparkedoutside,andthisafternoon,withtherain,thebarnsandstableshadpickupsofallsizes
andshapeslineduplikeaparkinglot.

RosedalehadbeennamedafterReed’sgrandmother,andalthoughReedranthewholekitand

caboodle,hisentirefamilywasinvolved.Andneededtobe.TheKellysdideverythingrelatedto
horses—boarding,foaling,bloodstockmanagement.Reedownedandtrainedanumberof
racehorses,aswell,andhekeptafullrosterofpedigreedstallionsavailableforstudservice.The
placewasalwayspacked.

Inprinciple,Emmalovedriding.Butinrealityshe’donlydoneitthreetimesbecauseshe’dfallen

offallthreetimes—arunningjokebetweenherandReed,givenhisbusiness.Thepoint,though,was
thatallthosecarsandtrucksmeanthewasbusy.Still,Reedwasalwaysbusyatthistimeofyear,soif
shewantedtotalktohim,shehadtotrackhimdownhereandseeifhecouldstealafewminutes.

Therewasnowayshecouldbreakitoffwithhimonthephone—norwouldsheeverhavechosen

thatcoward’swayout.

Sheclimbedoutofthecaranddashedforthestableoffice—herfirstbestbetatfindinghim.Rain

soakedthroughherpaleblueshirtandpants,butitwasawarmenoughrain.Shewasinsidein
seconds.Horseysmellsimmediatelyrushedhernostrils—hayandhorsefleshandleatherandliniment
andyou-know-what.Truthfullyshe’dalwayslikedthesmells—eventheyou-know-what.Justbecause
horsesneverlikedherdidn’tmeanshewasn’tfondofthem.

Today,though,herstomachroiledtheminuteshesteppedin—notbecauseofthesmell,butbecause

sheimmediatelyheardthecrazedsoundsfromthefarendofthestable.Sheknewwhatthesounds
were,knewwhattheymeant.Amarewasbeingmountedbyastallion—aforce-feedsituationthat
Reedwasinvariablydirectlyinvolvedin,becauseanardentstallioncould,andoftendid,hurtamare
ifhumansdidn’tdirecttheactivity.Harnessesandpulleysandliftsandallkindsofunlikelythings
wereusedtoaidanadvantageousmating.Emmagotit.Advantageousmarriageswereabigdealin
highsociety,nodifferent.Butiftherewasanythingunromanticinthislife,itwasamareandstallion
get-together.

Instantlysherealizedthatshe’dbeenanidiottocomewithoutcalling—andaselfishidiotbesides.

Reedhadnevermindedanimpromptuvisitfromher,butthiswasdifferent.Shewasn’tjustvisiting.
Thispanickedrushtoseehimwasabsurd.Itwasn’tasifanythinghadtobesettledthatverysecond.It
wasguiltdrivingher,notreallyneed.

Beforeshecouldturnaround,Reedspottedherandseparatedhimselffromtheclutchofpeople

nearthebreedingstation.

“Emma!”

Oh,God.Hisfacelitupwithawelcomingsmile,asifshehadn’tobviouslycrashedhisbusyday.

“Whatagreatsurprise,”hesaidandswoopeddownforahug—thenstoppedwithasheepishgrin.He
didsmelllikehorseandmansweat—andeaudestableingeneral.Itwasoneofthethingssheloved
aboutReed,hisconsiderationforher.Butrightthenshedidn’tcare.Shewantedahugfromher
fiancé.

Shewanted,needed,somekindofproofthatshewascrazy.Ifshecouldjustfeelsomethingsolid

forhim—withhim—maybeshecouldtalkherselfoutofbreakingthisoff.Sheforcedawarmsmile.

“IcanseeIpickedtheworstmomentintheuniversetoseeyou.You’rebusierthanaone-armed
bandit.”

“Andwithoneofyourfavoritethings.ButHisHighnessfinallydecidedtoperform,soIbelievewe

cansneakawayfromtheunwillinglovebirds—”

Overhisshouldershecouldseeatleasttwopeopleturninhisdirectionasifwantingtoaskhima

question.“Darnit,”shesaid.“Ireallydidpickarottentime.Ishouldhavecalled.”

“I’dratherseeyouthandobusinessanytime.Butwhat’swrong?”Hesteeredhertowardthestable

office,whichwasn’tfar,butatleastitwasalittledistantfromallthepryingeyes.Reed,beingIrish,
hadacastofthousandsinhisfamily—allofwhomshelovedabunch.Theywerewarm,gregarious,
effusivepeople,exactlytheoppositeofherquiet,ultraprivatefamily.Buttheywerealsonosy.And
Reedledhisbusinessthesameway—likeafamily,withanyonewhocamebytreatedtoacupofjoe
inthekitchen,nofanfareandnoairs.

“Comeon,Icanseesomething’sonyourmind.Spillit,”heurgedher.Typicallyhisstableoffice

resembledtheaftermathofacyclone.Thephonehadthreeactivelines,theminifridgewasalways
stockedwithpopandbottledwaterandhisdeskwasheapedwithhorsebandages,racingschedules,
wormshotsandeveryotherthing.

Shetouchedherfingerstohertemples.Hetalkedsoeasily.Forher,italwaystookeffort.“Reed,I

justfeelthatweshould—”

Thephonerang.Hemadeamotionbeggingforpatience,hookedthereceiverinhisearandserved

herapopatthesametime.Therewasamix-upinsometrainingschedule.Heleanedagainstthedesk
whilemotioninghertotaketheoneandonlyseat—anoldleatherchairmeantforamantocrashfora
fewminuteswithhisfeetup.

Shecouldn’tsit.Shewaited,lookingatthismanshe’dagreedtomarrymorethanayearago.She’d

knownhimforever.HehadthoseIrishlooks—thebrownhair,thecleanskin,themischievoussmile.
Asakid,he’dbeengood-lookinginafresh,clean-cutway,butatthirty-five,he’dcomeintohisown.
Therewaskindnessinhischaracter,aneasywaywithpeople.Noamountofchaoseverseemedto
throwhim.Hisjudgment—asfarashorsesandbusinessboth—hadturnedthefamilyhorsefarminto
ahighlyprosperousenterprise.

Emmafelttheknottietighterinherstomach.Shelovedhim.Forreal.Therewasreallynodoubtin

hermindofthat.NoonecouldnotloveReed.Hewasanabsolutelysuperman.Goodtothebone.A
manyoucouldtrustthroughthickandthin.Afamilyman.

Whatwasnottolove?

“Okay,”hesaidwhenheclickedoffthephone.“You’vegotmyfullattention.”

Shetookabreath.Outside,sheheardarumbleofanengine—likeaneighteen-wheelerdrivingin.

Voiceszoomedpastthestableofficedoor.Ahorsewhinnied.Itwasliketryingtothinkinthemiddle
ofatornado.

Shetookabreath,thengaveup.“Reed,thisisnoplacetotalk.I’lljust—”

“It’sokay,it’sokay.”Hepushedthedoor,whichdidn’tcompletelyclosebutatleastcreatedalittle

privacybarrier.Thenheliftedhisphone.“I’mturningoffboththepagerandthephonerightnow—”

Butnotbeforethephonerangagain.Hefieldedthatcallquicklyandimpatiently.Thendidjustwhat

he’dsaid—turneditoffandtunedoutalltheotherinterruptions,aswell.Helookedatherintently.“I

knowwhatthisisabout.Yourmothercalledme.”

“Mymother—?”

“Apparentlyshethinksyoudon’twanttogotosomeshindigatthecountryclubonSaturday.The

formalJunedance?Soshetalkedmeintopromisingtogo.Iknow,Iknow,Ishouldhaveaskedyou.
Especiallyifyouwantedoutofthatdarnthing.Butdamn,she’sgoingtobemymother-in-law,so
whenshetwistedmyarm,Icouldn’tverywellturnherdown—”

“Iunderstand.No,no,it’snotaboutthat.”

“Allright,”hesaidcuriouslyandleanedbackagainstthedesk,hisattitudeoneofwaiting,asif

determinedtogiveherallthetimesheneededtosaywhateversheneededto.

Butsheheardanothermajorcommotionoutside—asifatruckhadarrivedandwasbeingunloaded.

Thiswasgoingnowhere.YetEmmatried,blurtingout,“Reed…doyourealizehowmanytimes
we’vepostponedsettingadateforthewedding?”

“Sothat’swhatthisisabout.Andyou’reright.Soright.Infact,WeddingsByFelicitycalledme.I

don’tmeanFelicity—itwasoneofherassistants,Ritasomeone…”

Emmatriedtoopenhermouthtointerrupt,butheliftedahand.

“It’smyfaultaboutthat,Emma.IknowFelicityisyourfriendandsheseemslikeagreatperson

besides.Butshe’sjustifiablytickedatusfornotsettingadate,especiallythislateinthegame.”

“Thethingis,”Emmatriedtointerject,“Ithinkthere’sareasonwe’vewaitedsolong—”

“Ido,too.YourgalleryhastheJulyshowcomingup.AndI’mbusierthanamagpiehere.Andsince

we’redoingtheceremonyatyourparents’house,itdidn’tseemlikeallthatmuchhadtobe
completelypinneddown,youknow?Imean,wedidn’thavetobookahall,andthephotographerand
masterchefarealreadyinthefamily,sowhatdifferencediditmakeifitwasthesecondorthird
SaturdayinAugust?”

“Reed…Ithinkthereasonforourprocrastinatingismorecomplicatedthanthat.”

Henoddedagain.“Yeah,Iknow.Truthis—andIknowit’sselfish—butIgetantsyanywhereneara

bigwedding.Callitaguything.Hell,itisn’tthepartypartofitImind.Youknowthat.Withmyclan,
they’dhaveapartyeverySaturdaynightifwecouldallsurvivethehangoversonSundaymorning.
Butit’sthesocietypartofitthatmakesmesquirm.NowthatBunny’sgoneandnoone’ssteppedupto
dothatEastwickSocialDiaryanymore,maybepeoplewon’tmakesomuchofeverywedding,but…”

“Reed,I’vealwaysagreedwithyouonthat.Ineverwantedabigwedding,either.Butoncemy

parentsgotinvolved,itwaslikebudgingtwoelephants.”Somehowshefoundherhandonher
stomachagain,pressinghardtoquellthesick,sadfeelinginside.“Ipostponeddecidingonawedding
dateasmanytimesasyouhave.”

“Andthat’sthething.We’vebothbeenrunningfasterthanratsinamaze.Ifwecouldjuststeala

solidblinkoftimetogether,wecouldsurelygetadatedowninink.”

“Yes,I’msurewecould.Butthequestionis…isthatwhatwewanttodo?I’mnotsopositivethatit’s

justbusynessthatmadeusbothpostponenailingdownaweddingdateforsolong.”

Hedidn’tlookhurt.Hedidn’tlookconcerned.Hedidn’tlookasifhewereremotelygettingherat

all.“Emma,youknowItendtodobetterifyoujustsayflatoutwhat’sonyourmind.Idon’tknow
whatyoumean—”

Abeanpolekidjammedahandthroughthedoorway.“Mr.Kelly.PrettyLady,theysaidsheleaped

thefenceintheeastpasture,takingoffafterWildWind.”

“Aw,hell.”Reedstartledstraight,grabbedhishatfromthedeskandthenlookedfranticallyat

Emma.

“No,it’sokay.Go.We’lltalklater—”

“Youcomefirst,Emma.Youknowthat.Butdamnit—”

“Iknow,Iknow.We’lltalkonSaturdaynightifwecan’tcatcheachotherbefore.Go,go,Icansee

thisisimportant.”

Shereallycould.Yetontheridehome,theskywasstillsendingdownblisteringtorrentsofrain,

echoingthemoodyrestlessnessinherheart.

She’dhandledthatallwrong.Barginginonhisworkday.Tryingtotalkaboutsomethingserious

withallthatchaosgoingon.Anditwasn’tasifshehadtohurryintothisconversation—shedidn’t
wanttohurtReed.Infact,she’dhopedterribly,desperately,thatseeinghimwouldmakeGarrettfade
fromhermind,wouldmakeherrememberallthereasonsshe’dagreedtothisengagement.

Butitseemedthatgoalhadboomerangedonher,becauseshedidrememberwhyshe’dacceptedhis

ring.Thereasonswerestillthere,stillreal.Theygotonaseasilyasoldslippers.Theywereboth
tiredofpeoplepushingthemintomarriage.TheybothhadlongtiestoEastwick.Sheadoredhis
family,respectedhisworkandhisdreams.Hetotallyrespectedhergallery,hergoals,thethingsshe
wantedtodo;infact,shecouldn’timagineReedinterferingwithanythingsheeversaidshewanted.

Yetwhenshecataloguedallthosereasonsinhermind,theproblemwasstillthere.

TheideaofmarryingReedwasincreasinglygivingherpanicked,shootingheadachesanditchy

hives.Maybeshelovedhim…butnotintherightway.ItwasGarrett,damnhim,who’dmadeher
realizetheheartfullofemotionsshewasmissing.Thelongingsheyearnedfor.Thedesiringand
beingdesiredthatherwoman’ssoulwhisperedfor.Thefeelingofbelonging…

She’dneverhadthosefeelingsinherlife.Growingup.Ever.Whoknewifitcouldevenhappen?

Butsheknewpositivelythatshedidn’thavethosefeelingswithReed.

Halfwayhome,shehitaredlightatWhitaker.Shesuddenlystartedcrying.Her.EmmaDearborn.

Whohadn’tcriedevenwhenshe’dbrokenanankleinsecondgrade.

Butitwasdamnscarytorealizeyouhadyourlifeallplannedintidylittlelines,andsuddenly

someonewasmakingyoucolorwithnolinesatall.

Garrettpushedopenthedoortothehospital,wishinghecouldshakeofflikeapuppy.Therainhad

turnedintoadownrightsoppydeluge.He’dbedrippinglessifheeverrememberedtocarryan
umbrella,butthatwasanonstarter,nevergoingtohappen.Theafternoonthreatenedtoturnintopure
wetsteam—whichmatchedhismoodalltoowell.

Thelastfewdayshadbeenmorefrustratingthanfindingamosquitointhedark.Settingupa

temporaryofficeandlivingquartersinEastwickhadbeeneasyenough,thankstoEmma.Buthis
sister ’sproblemsrelentlesslypreyedonhismind.

He’dbeeninterviewinganyoneinEastwickwhowaswillingtotalktohim—atleast,anyonewho

knewCaroline.Anditseemedasthoughmostofthetowndidandwaswillingtotalk.Onlynoone
seemedtohaveaclueaboutherprivatelife.Thismorningturnedintoatotalzero.

He’dstartedouttalkingwithLilyCartwright.Shewasasweetheartandahalfandatrue-bluehonest

kindofwoman.Butwhenhe’daskedtohavecoffeewithher,hehadn’trealizedshe’dbeasbigasa
whale.She’dclaimedshewasgoingtohaveababyinafewmonths.Hefiguredshewashavingthree
atleast.Butthepointwas,likeeveryoneelse,LilywastroubledaboutCaroline—butknewnothing.

Thenhe’dtriedVanessaThorpe,anotherofhissister ’sfriends.Becauseshe’dmarriedarich,older

man,thescandalmongerstsk-tskedbehindherback.Garrettcouldn’tcarelessaboutgossiporher
personallife.He’djusthopedsheknewsomething,anything,aboutCaroline—buthe’dstruckout
there,too.

Afterthat,he’dtrackeddownacoupleofmen.FrankForresterhadtobeseventy,nota

contemporaryofCaroline’s,butbecausehewassuchafixtureatEastwick’scountryclub,Garrett
thoughthe’dbeagreatsourceofinformation.Hewas,butnotaboutCaroline.

Harry,thebartenderattheEmeraldRoom,kneweveryone’ssecretsandthensome,buthewas

geneticallyrelatedtoaclam.Still,hesworehe’dhavetoldGarrettsomethingabouthissister ’shealth
ifhe’dknownanything.

BottomlinewasthatlotsofpeoplethoughttheworldofCaroline,butnoonehadthesmallest

inklingwhathadprovokedhersuddendepression.Garretthandledfrustrationaswellashehandled
finechina—whichwasanot.Healsoknewthatfearforhissisterwasn’ttheonlythingridinghis
mood.

Emmawas.

Hehadn’tseenherinseveraldaysnow.Betweentryingtorunhisbusinesslong-distanceand

trackingdownleadsonhissister,he’dhadnotimetocasuallyrunintoher.Butshamehadbeenriding
hisconscience,andhehatedthefeeling.

Godknowshehadfaults,Garrettthoughtasheloosenedhiscollarinthestiflingelevator.Hewas

selfish,singularlydirected.Hedidn’tplaylifebysoftballrules,neverwastedtimeplayingtouch-
tackletypeoffootballeither.Heplayedtowin.Alotofpeoplecalledhimstone-headed,aworkaholic
—butwomenalwaysclaimedhewasjustasrelentlessinthesack,agreatlover.

Andthatwasgood,hemused,exceptthatheknewhewaslousywhenitcametorememberingto

calllater.Infact,hisnamewasjutplainabsenteeinthelong-term-relationshipcolumn.

Thebuginhissoup,though,wasthathe’dneverhadawomanrunawayfromhim—nottheway

Emmahadrunouttheotherday.

Norhadawomanevercomealive,comeapartinhisarms.Notthewayshehad.

Hedidn’tcomeontowomenwhoweretaken.Ever.Poachingwasn’thisthing.Ever.Only,for

Pete’ssake,whatthehellwasEmmadoingrespondingtohimasifsheweretheloneliest,hottest
womaneverborn,ifshewashappilyinlovewithsomeguy?

Itdidn’taddup.

“Garrett!”

Justincaseheneededmoretroubletoday,fatesuddenlyproducedhismotherhustlingtowardhim,

comingoutofCaroline’shospitalroom.Hismom,typically,lookeddressedforteaattheWhite
House,lotsofcreamandpearlsandscentedfromheadtotoewiththesignatureperfumesomefancy
chemisthadcreatedforher.

“I’mso,sogladIcaughtupwithyou,dear.”Hismotherhookedhisarmandfirmlysteeredhim

towardaquietalcove,awayfromtheroomsandnursingstation.“Iassumeyou’reheretosee
CarolineandIwanttotalktoyoufirst.”

“How’sshedoing?”

Hismotherlookedpasthisshoulder,ensuringnoonewaswithinearshot.“Thedoctorputheron

somekindofantianxietymedicine.Insistedonherseeinganotherpsychiatrist.”

Garrettfrowned.“Youthinkthat’swrong?”

“Garrett.”Hismotherrolledhereyes.“Depressionissuchabuzzwordforyourgeneration.

Everyonehastoughstretchesinlife.That’snoexcusetocurlupinabed—ortakedrugs.Ididn’traise
eitheryouoryoursistertobeweaklings.”

Hestruggledforpatience.He’drealizedyearsagothathismotherwasn’tascoldasshecame

across.She’djustfoughthardtolivethegoodlife—asshedefinedit—andfearedanythingthatwasa
threattothat.“Mom,”hetoneddownhisvoice,“depressionisn’tacharacterweakness.It’sanillness.

BeingmadatCarolineforthisislikebeingmadatsomeoneforgettingcancer.”

“Shedoesn’thavecancer.She’shealthyasahorse.She’sbeenthroughdozensoftests.Andthat’s

thepoint.Thereisnothingwrongwiththatgirl,nothingkeepingherinbedallthistime.Yourfather
andIareatourwits’end.”

Okay.Nowaytoopendoorsinthatdirection,sohetriedanother.“Hasanyonebeenabletoreach

Griffyet?”

“Oh,yes.Yourfatherfinallyconnectedwithhimlastnight—inthemiddleofthenight,infact.Our

embassy,theirembassy,onandon,ittookforever.Wedidn’tgethim,buthe’sbeenlocatednow.It
couldtakeaslongasaweekbeforehe’shome,butatleastweknowhe’scoming.”

“That’sgood—”

“Exactly.IdrovestraighttothehospitaltotellCarolinethatGriffwascominghome,thinkingthat

wouldfinallyperkherup.Insteadshestartedsobbing.Cryingsoloud,theyendeduphavingtosedate
her.”Finallysheloststeamonthatsubject,onlytostartupanother.“Garrett,Iwantyoutocometothe
clubonSaturdaynight.There’sadance.TheannualJunegala—”

“Thanks,Mom.ButI’dratherjoinachainganginSiberia.”There.Healmostwonasmile…butnot

quite.

“Nowdon’tbedifficult.Weneedyouthere.Weneedtostandtogetherasaunitedfamily.”

Hescratchedhischin.“HonesttoPete,whothehellcaresifwe’reaunitedfamily?”

“Everyone.Thisentirecommunitywillnoticeifwe’renotthere.Andthethingis,yoursisterwill

betheonetosufferifpeoplestarttothinkshe’smentally…unbalanced.”

“Somepeoplearegoingtojudgenomatterwhatwesayordo—butnobodyI’dwanttobearound.

AndnooneI’dwantCarolinearoundeither.SoIcan’timaginewhythatmatters.”

“Garrett,Iknowyoudon’tsharethesamevaluesthatyourfatherandIdo.Butyoursisterlovesthe

club.Shehassomanyfriendsthere.Whenshecomestohersenses,she’sgoingtowanttogoback,to
eventsjustlikethis.Sothisisforher,notforyou—”

“Allright,allright,I’llgo.”

Hismotherwasjuststartingtowindup,butnowshesquintedathiminsurprise.“You’llgo?”

“Yup.Justtellmewhattime.”

“It’sblack-tie,”hismotherwarnedhim.

Well,hellanddoublehell.Butsomewhereinthosemassiveclosetsinthemansion,Garrettknew

hismomhadsavedbothawhiteandablacktux.Itwasn’tasifhehadn’tbeenropedintothoseneck-
chokingfunctionsazilliontimesbefore.

Oncehismotherleft,hesatwithCarolineforanotherhour.Sheneverwokeupenoughtotalk,

apparentlybecauseofthefreshsedationthey’dgivenher.Butshesqueezedhishand…whichmadehis
heartclimbstraightintohisthroat.

Nomatterhowmuchtorturetheclubdancewas,hewasmorethanhappytoattend.Hearingthatthe

countryclubwasanestofCaroline’sfriendswastheimpetus.Someonetherewasgoingtoknow
something.He’daskedeveryoneelsehecouldthinkof,butobviouslyhedidn’tknowallher
acquaintancesbecausehehadn’thungoutinEastwickforyears.

Asheheadedbacktohisrentedapartment,frustrationandworryclimbedhismood.Sofarhe’d

completelyfailedthecourseinhelpinghissister.

Hewasn’tusedtofailure.Fordamnsure,hewasn’tusedtofeelinghelpless.Maybegettingsome

workdonewouldatleastclearhismind.Onlyhe’dbarelyparkedthecarandclimbedoutbeforehe
sawthenewcrisiswaitingforhim.

Thisparticularcrisiswaswearingasilver-blueT-shirtthatglovedherbreastslikeafaithfullover,

awhiteskirtthatlookedthinasahandkerchiefandaglistenofcarelesssapphiresinthebangleonher
wrist.

Oh,yeah.Andshehadeyessofterthanviolets.

Fortwodayshe’dalmost—almost—forgottenthat.

Five

Garrettknewhe’dseeEmmaagain—thatwasaguaranteeinEastwick—buthe’dcountedonsome

warning.Sometimetoprepare.Somespacetorememberthathewasamature,successfuladult
insteadofateenagerwiredonhormonesandlust.

Well,hedidhaveacoupleofseconds,becausehespottedherbeforeshespottedhim.

Shewasatthetopoftheoutsidebackstairs.He’dstartedusingthatbackentrancebecauseitwas

privateandhedidn’thavetogothroughhislandlady’shouse.ButwhyeverandwhateverEmmawas
doingthereinitiallyeludedhim.Whenheclimbedhalfwayupthestairs,hesawthatshe’dapparently
beenpilingboxesandsacksagainsthisbackdoor.Andthensheturned.

“Well,ifyouaren’tasightforsoreeyesafteramightylongday.Butwhatisallthis?”Hemotioned

totheboxes.

She’dheardhim.Heknewshe’dheardhim.Butforthatinstantwhentheireyesmet,shewenttotally

still,asifherhearthadstoppedbeating.Anddamnedifhisdidn’tstop,too.

Herfacelookedsun-kissed,hermouthbare,hereyessovulnerable.TheT-shirtmadeherbreasts

looksoftandroundandtouchable.Thepalesummerskirtlookedasifit’dstripofffast.Evocatively
fast.Seductivelyfast.Onelook,andallhecouldthinkaboutwasclaimingher.

“I…”Quicklyherexpressionchanged.Shesmiled,foundherpoiseagain.“It’sbeenbuggingme,

aboutyourbeingstuckcampingoutinthisbaldapartment.Ialwayshavesparethingssittingaround
thegallery.Andit’sJunerightnow,soI’mgettingreadyforaparticularlybigshowinJuly,which
meansI’mevenmorecrowded.SoIjustfiguredyoumightbeabletouseafewthingstomakethe
placemorecomfortable.”

Sheliftedsomeitemssohecouldseethenatureofthestuffshe’dbroughtover.ApairofWalter

Farndonprintsofsailboats—asifshecouldhaveknownhewasnutsforsailboats.Astonesculpture
inlapis.Abrightwovenmola.Acouplegiant-sizebluebathtowels.Awovenbasketwithsomebasic
kitchenware—afewwhiteplates,whitebowls,silverware,mugswithbullsandelephantsonthem.

Someoftheitemswereundoubtedlyfromhergallery.Butnotall.

Helookedather.

Emmararelyshowednerves,yetshesuddenlytuggedonanearring.“Youdon’thavetotakea

thing.Ifsomething’snottoyourtaste,don’tsweatitinanyway….”

Hekeptlookingather.

“ButI’mjusttwodoorsdown,soitwaskindofsillynottoofferyoutheuseofsomethingsthat

mightperkuptheplace,makeyoufeelmorecomfortableawayfromhome…”

Hekeptlookingather.

Andfinallythepuffseemedtogooutofhersails.Shesankdownonthetopstep,whichleftjust

enoughroomforhimtohunkerdownnexttoher.Theairwashumidenoughtowear.Eventhough
therainhadfinallystopped,leavesandbrancheshungheavywithmoisture,dripping,catchingthe
late-afternoonsunlight.Apairofrowdypeonybushesclusteredunderthefence,untendedandoutof
control,yetthescentoftheflowerswaftedup,sodelicatethey’dcatchyourbreath.

Orelse,shewastheonecatchinghisbreath.

“Thiswasreallyniceofyou,”hesaidquietly.“Butyoudidn’ttaketimeoutofaworkdayjustto

makethisapartmentmorelivable.”

Shehesitated,thenliftedherhandsinahumorousgestureofdefeat.“Darnit,Icanfibtomost

peoplewithoutgettingcaught.Howcomeyou’resohardtofool?Butyou’reright.Iadmitit.Ineeded
todothis.”

“Youneededtodoexactlywhat?Bringthisstuff?”Hemotioned.“Whichreallyisappreciatedby

theway.I’vebeencampingoutwithnoproblem.Butdamn,itisprettybaldinthere.”

Shenodded.“Honestly,Ithoughtafewadditionswouldhelp.Butthatwasjustmyexcusefor

comingover.ThetruthisthatIneededtoseeyou.”

“Needed.”Herepeatedtheword,unsurewhyshe’dchosenitorwhatitmeant.

Shepulledupherknees,tuggedherskirtdown,tuckedastrandofhairbehindherears.And

suddenlyshenolongerlookedlikethecoollyelegant,poisedgalleryowner,butthepredebutantegirl
he’doncebeensoheadoverheelsfor.

“It’sbeenonmymind.ThewayIranofftheotherday,”sheadmitted.“Darnit,Ihaven’tdone

anythingthatcowardlysinceIcanremember.”

Hewasn’tgoingtohauloffandkissher.Maybehecouldn’tstopthinkingaboutit,butthatdidn’t

meanhewasgoingtodoit.“That’sfunny.Ididn’tseeanythingthatlookedlikecowardice.WhatIsaw
wasawomanwhoseemedprettyshookup.Butthen,sowasI.Lady,canyoueverkiss.”

Hercheekssuddenlybloomedwithcolorbrighterthanallthosepeonies.“Well,thatwasexactlythe

problem.NothowIkissed.Buthowyoukissed,buster.”

“Yeah,Ilikeyourversionofthestorybetter.It’sjusttootoughonmymaleegotoadmitthata

womanknockedmysocksoff,especiallywithnothingmorethanafewkisses.Mucheasierto
swallowthatmyexpertiseandsexappealthrewyou.Although,Ihavetosay,I’veneverscareda
womanintogallopingoutofsightatthespeedofsoundbefore.”

Asoundescapedherthroat.Atickleofachuckle.“Quitit.You’remakingmefeelbetter.AndI

knowperfectlywellIbehavedlikeagoose.”

“Youknowwhat?I’malmostpositivewecanbothsurviveanawkwardmoment.”

“Iknowwecan.We’renotkidsanymore.It’sjust…itwouldhavebeenawkward.”Sheliftedahand

inauniversallyfemalegesture.“SoIwanteditoutintheopen.AchancetosayI’msorrythat
happened,itwon’thappenagain.Soyouwouldn’thavetoworryaboutrunningintomeagain,either.”

“Okay.Gotthatoffbothourchests,”hesaid.

“Right.”

“Neitherofusisworriedaboutitanymore,”hesaid.

“Right.”

Andcatsdanced,hethought.Hispulsewaspoundinglikealonesomestallionneartheprettiestfilly.

Hewasn’taniceman.Heknewthat.Beingnicehadneverbeenonhismost-wanted-attributeslist,but
allthesame,hewasusuallyamoredecentguythanthis.Theproblemwassittingsoclosetoher.
Seeingthelatesunlightcatchinthelittleswoopofhairthatbrushedherforehead.Seeingherarms
wrappedaroundherkneeslikeagirl’s.Seeingthosesensualviolet-blueeyestryingsohard—too
hard—nottolookathim.

“Tellmeaboutthisguyyou’reengagedto,”hesaid.

“Reed?ReedKelly—youknow,RosedaleFarms.”

“Yeah,ofcourse.Hewasaheadofmebyayearinschool.ButIjustdidn’tknowhimwell.Seemed

likeagoodguy.”

“Heis.Couldn’tbebetter.He’sgotabig,wonderful,gregariousfamily.He’sterrificwithkids,with

horses.He’skind.Patient…”

“How’dyougettogether?”

Shechuckled,butitwasn’tahumoroussound.Suddenlyshewaspullingatherearlobeagain.“My

parentshavebeenonmycasetomarryforyears.Producegrandchildren.Youknowhowthatgoes—”

“Yeah,Ido.”

“AndIwassosickofbeingtheextrawomanatdinnerpartiesandgatherings.Feltlikemeatbeing

paradedinfrontofbutchersforthemtochoosetheprimecut.Eastwickcanbewonderful,butit’snot
easytobesingleinthistown.AndReedwasgettingitfromtheotherend—hewastheextraman
everytimeahostessneededone.HateditasmuchasIdid.Andthenatadinnerparty,wefound
ourselvestogether—thetokensingles.Itwasfunny,really.Westartedgoingtodifferentfunctionsjust
tosaveourselvesbeingsetup.”

“Andyoufoundyouclicked.”

“Idon’tknowaboutclicked.Buthewassoeasytobewith.”

“Easytobewith,”Garrettechoedandstood.Hugeholesseemedmissinginthispicture.Forone

thing,hecouldn’tfathomhowawomanaswarmandvibrantasEmmahadn’tbeentemptedby
marriagelongbeforethis.Andgranted,hewouldhavebeenprejudicedagainstherfiancéifshe’d
claimedKellywasaherotentimesover.Buteasytobewith?Whatkindofadefinitionfora
relationshipwasthat?

Emmaimmediatelystood,too,asifrealizinghowlongthey’dbeentalking.“I’llhelpyoutakethis

allinifyou’dlike.ButthenI’dbetterbegettingbacktothegallery—”

Hesnaggedherwrist.Justlightly.Justtoseewhattouchingherdid—toher,tohim.Allheactually

didwaswraphisfingersaroundherwrist,histhumbonherpulse,forafewbareseconds.Yetthat
instantlyhereyesshottohislikealightbeam.Thepulsecaughtinherthroatwherehecouldseeit,
beating,beating.Herlipssuddenlyparted.

“Hesoundslikeasaint,Emma,”Garrettsaid.

“Notasaint.Butareallygoodman—”

“Yeah.Soyoukeepsaying.AndIbelieveyou.Butifyoudon’tlovehim,whyareyoumarrying

him?”

Shedidn’tanswerhim.Maybeshecouldn’tanswerhim.Thatclose,shelookedathismouth,athis

eyes.Shedidn’tmoveawayortrytoevadehistouch.Amourningdovecalledfromsomewhereinthe
yard.

Thescentofpeoniesagaindrifteduponthehot,humidbreeze,soteasing,soevocative.

Itwasallhecoulddonottokissher—partlybecausethat’showshelookedathim,asifitwereall

shecoulddonottokisshim.

Factskeptflashinginhismind:thatshewasengaged,thathewasn’tapoacher.Butevenwhenthey

werekidshe’dneverfeltatugthisstrong.Atthevastageofthirty-five,itseemedcrazytodiscover
therewasahugeneedinsidehim,aneedfromtheheart,anunbearableholeoflonelinessthathe
hadn’tevenknownhewassufferingfrom,aholethatonlyshecouldfeelorfill.

“Don’t,Garrett,”shewhisperedsoftly,aplea.

Heheardthetremorinhervoice.Immediatelyhereleasedherwristandsteppedback.“Ididn’t

scareyou,didI?Iwouldn’thurtyoufortheworld,Emma—”

“Ineverthoughtyouwould.”

“ButIwon’tlie.Idowantyou.”

“Damn,youwerealwayshopelesslyhonest.Butdidn’tanyoneevertellyouthatyoudon’thaveto

bequitethisblunt?”

Sheobviouslywantedhimtosmile,wantedtosaysomethingthatwouldeasethetensionbetween

them.Justthen,though,hecouldn’tseemtoconjureupasmile,evenforher.Insteadhetouchedher
cheekwiththebackofhishand,justthemildest—nakedest—ofcaresses.“Maybeyoudon’tfeelthe
samethingI’mfeeling.”

Shesuckedinabreath.“Ifeelit.”

“Doyoufeelitwithhim,too,then?Whenyou’remakinglovewithhim?”Hereallyhadtriedto

drillsomeoftheblunthonestyfromhischaracter,andGodknowshedidn’twanttomakeEmma
uncomfortable.Buthehadtoask.Hejustcouldn’timaginelovingsomeoneandfeelingthisfor
someoneelse.Sure,youcouldbeattractedtomorethanoneperson.Butthisyankonhisheartasif
he’ddieifhecouldn’thaveher,no.Hecouldn’timagineanotherwomaninhislifeifhecouldhave
whathewasfeelingrightnowforEmma.

Sheshiftedhergazeawayfromhis.“Idon’texactlyknow,Garrett.ReedandIhaven’t…gottenthat

close.”

“Pardon?”Hemusthavemisheardher.SheandReedwereengaged.Howcouldtheynothaveslept

together?

Shesighedheavilyandnoisily,glancedupattheskyasifbeggingforstrengthandthenaimed

straightforthestairs.Asifthey’dbeendiscussingtheweather,shesaidcheerfully,“IfIfindmore
goodiesinthegalleryIcanspare,I’llbringthemover.AndifanythingIbroughtisinyourwayor
youdon’tlikeit,justgiveashoutandI’llcomegetit.”

Heleanedovertherailing,watchingherslimfannyswishassheclimbeddownthestairs.“Does

thatmeanyou’renottooannoyedwithmeforaskingafewawkwardquestions?”

“OfcourseI’mannoyed.You’rebeingaroyalpain.Unsettlingandupsetting.”Sheglancedbackat

himonemoretime.“Nodifferentthanyoualwayswere.ButthankGodI’mnotseventeenanymore.”

“Damnstraight.You’reahellofalotmorebeautiful.Andmoreconfounding.”

“Andyoualwaysdidlikeputtingyourhandinthefire.Butwe’regoingtogetalongfamously

whileyou’reintown,”sheinformedhimcheerfully.“Partlybecausewe’retwodoorsdownfrom
eachother.AndbecauseIcareaboutyoursisterandwanttohelpwithCarolineifIcan.Andpartly
becauseyouweremyfirstlove,whichIreallydon’twanttoforget—eventhoughyou’rebeingbad.
Badtothebone.Badallthewaydowntothe—”

“Igetthepicture.”

“SothepointisthatI’mnotgoingtoletalittleawkwardnessmakeitimpossibletobetogethernow

andthen.”

“Betogether…howexactlydoyoumeanthat?”

Sheflippedhimthefinger.Emma.EmmaDearborn.EmmaD—thesilk-and-pearlsdebutanteof

Eastwick,thenever-do-anything-wrong-in-public,never-offend-anyoneEmma.Flippedhimthe
finger.

Hewasdownrightcharmed.Andcaptivated.

“Damn,you’refun,”hesaid.

“Iamnot.”

Hechuckled.“Yeah,youare.AndImayjusthavetomakeanotherpassatyou,Em.”

“YoutryitandI’llhavetoslapyousilly,”shewarnedhim…andthenseemedtorealizeshewas

callingoutthatinformationtotheentireneighborhood.Heheardhersigh.Again.Andthenfinally
shedisappearedfromhissight.

Hehungovertheporchrailafterthatforawhile,though.Hecouldfeelthesillygrinonhisface,

when,hell,hedidn’tdogrins.Cometothinkofit,hehadn’tsmiledinalongtime.

Hewaitedfortheguilttohithimagain.Andofcourse,itdid.Itwasn’tcomfortableorright,this

huge,buildingthinghefeltforawomanwhowastaken,eventhoughshesoundedlesstakenthanhe’d
originallybelieved.

Garretttoldhimselftobackoff.Butwhenhepivotedaroundandheadedintohisapartment,he

couldn’tswearthathewasgoingtoobeythatinnerconscience.

Hecouldn’tsweartoanything.NotwhereEmmawasconcerned.

Exceptthathewishedhehadn’tbeencrazyenoughtoloseherthefirsttime.

Emmatwistedandturneduntilshecouldseethemiddleofherbackinthebathroommirrorat

Color.Thereitwas.Thereasonfortheitchthathadbeendrivinghercrazyonandofffordaysnow.

Abrandnewhive.

Justone,butnowshehadafreshexcuseforbeinganervouswreck.Sure,thatlastconversation

withGarretthadpreyedonhermindlikeacatonamouse.She’dbeenmakinglovewithGarrettin
herdreams.She’dbeendrivingintrafficandsuddenlyfeelingherselfflushwhenthoughtsofhim
swamtothesurface.She’dbeendressinginthemorning,pickingoutslipsofsatinandlaceand
suddenlythinkingoftakingthemoff.ForGarrett.WithGarrett.

Butnowatleastshecouldclaimaphysicalreasonforfeelingasifshe’dlostcontrolofherlife.

Impatientlyshescratchedthesucker-hiveonherback,washedherhandsandhikeddownthehall.The
countryclubJunedancewascominguptomorrow.She’dbeenthinkingofitasD-night.Reedhadhad
hishandsfullallweek.Tomorrowshesimplyhadtofindawaytocornerhimalone,tosaythethings

she’dfailedtothelasttime.

Andrightnowwhatsheneededwaswork.Mind-numbingplainoldhardwork.

Inoneofthefirst-floordisplayrooms,Emmawasfinishingupanexhibit.ThroughJuly,shewas

callingittheRedRoom.She’dcombinedtexturesandtextileswithonlythecolorincommon.A
headdressfromCameroonwasjuxtaposedwithamarblesculptureofayoungwomancoveredin
rosepetals.ASchweitzerlinenwallhangingcontrastedwithanAfghanirug.Aperfectlyghastlylamp
fromthe1950s—withawoman’sleginfishnetstockingsforabase—echoedtheshockandsensuality
ofaglobepaintedwiththeglossyredpaintusedbyJaguar.

Thewallhangingwasn’tright,though,soshetookitdownandtriedagain.Nomatterhowhardshe

concentrated,aquestionkeptstainingthebackofhermind.ExactlywhatdidsheoweReed?

Shesteppedbackandknewimmediatelyshe’dhungittoohigh.

Howcouldshepossiblymakeamajorlifedecisionbasedonfeelingsforamanwho’donlybeen

backinherlifeforacoupleofweeks?Anddarnit,whydidGarretteverhavetocomebackintoher
life?She’dknowntherewereissuesinhermarriagewithReed.Butshemighthavebeenabletomake
Reedhappy—mighthavebeenabletosettleherself—ifGarretthadjustnevercomehome.

Shesteppedbackfromthelinenwallhangingandgrittedherteeth.Nowshe’dhungittoolow.

“Hey,Emma.”Joshpokedhisheadinthedoorway.Hewasworkinginthefrontwithagroupof

volunteerkids—they’dbattledoverwhogottodothatjobbecausetheybothlovedworkingwiththe
teenagers,butJoshhadwon.Thistime.“Yourmother ’sonthephoneintheoffice.”

“Thanks.”Couldthisdaygetmorefrustrating?Butitcould,shediscovered,whenshepickedupthe

phoneintheofficeandheardhermother ’sslurredvoice.

“Emma?”

“Mom.It’sonlythreeintheafternoon!”

“Couldn’thelp.”Emmaheardthechink-chinkoficecubes.“Yourfather…”Thephonedroppedor

somethingelsemadeaheavythump.“…somean.NothingIdoisright.Comehometonight?You
haveto.Ineedyou.”

Afterthatcheerycall,Emmareturnedtothewall-hangingproject,thinking,okay,okay,whatdid

sheoweherparents?Andhowcomeshecouldn’tseemtoescapeanyofthehairylifequestionstoday,
nomatterhowhardshetried?

Toaddinsulttoinjury,shestillhadn’tconqueredthewall-hangingproblembeforenoticinga

silvervanwithWeddingsByFelicityforalogo.Secondslateraplatinumblondeflewintotheroom,
wearingheelstootalltowalkonandashort,sassyhaircutthatmatchedhershort,sassyprintdress.
“Oh,good,you’renotbusy!”

Emmaglancedattheboxesheapedallovertheroom.“Felicity—”

Heroldfriendmotionedwithherheadtowardthedoor—sincebothherhandswerefilled,onewith

alongbottleofwine,theotherwithtwocrystalglasses.“YouandIaregoingtotalk.Rightnow.
Don’teventryarguingwithme.”

“I’mnotarguing.I’malwaysgladtoseeyou.But—”

“Uh-uh.Nobuts.Movethetush,cookie.We’redrinkingandtalkingbehindcloseddoorsforatleast

thenexthalfhour,andthat’sthat.”

FelicitylookedalotlikeayoungMegRyan,exceptthatMegusedtoplaysuchnicerolesin

movies,andFelicitysharedmoreinpersonalitywithanarmytank.ShesetupbehindEmma’s
steamed-cherrydesk,burrowedinherpurseforacorkscrewand,predictably,foundone.Shepoured
oneglasstothebrimandshovedpapersasidetopushittowardEmma.

“Ifyouweren’toneofmydearestfriends,I’dhavemoppedthefloorwithyoulongbeforethis.”

“Me?”ThesignoverEmma’sdesksaidOurLivesAreReflectedintheThingsWeChoose.Ironic,

shethought,becausethegallerywasbrimfulofeleganceandstyleinallforms,yetherofficewalls
werewallpaperedwithchildren’swork.Fingerpainting.Shaving-creamart.Picturesmadefrom
macaroniandspanglesandbeadsandbuttons.Ofcourse,nooneeverhungoutinthegalleryoffice
buther.Andbossy,nosy,intrusivefriends,itseemed.

“Look,”Felicitysaidfirmly.“IknowthatReed’salreadymadethehoneymoonplans.Whichmeans

youbothhavetoknowwhenthewedding’sgoingtobe,yetsomehowyoustillaren’tcallingmeto
pindownthedate.”

“Iknow.AndI’msorry.It’swrong….”Shelookeddownatthewineglass.“Felicity,honestly,Ican’t

drinkinthemiddleoftheday.”

“Ofcourseyoucan.Becauseweneedtotalk,andrightnowyou’rewaytoobuttoned-up.Nowlisten

tome.”Felicityleveledherselfintothewraparoundredvelvetchairandcockedherverylongleg
withitsverytallheelonEmma’spricelessdesk.“I’vebeenthroughthisamilliontimes.Iknowbrides
likenooneknowsbrides.Bridesgetcoldfeet.It’snothingnew,nothingtobeashamedof.Infact,
you’relikelytogetcolderfeetthanmost.”

“Whydoyouthinkthat?ThatI’dgetcolderfeetthanmost?”

“Becauseyou’rethekindtotakemarriagemoreseriouslythantherestofus,”Felicitysaidasif

thatshouldhavebeenobvious.“Admitit.Youthinkmarriageisforkeeps,don’tyou?”

“Well,yes.”

“Irestmycase.You’rehopelesslynaive.Butthat’snotthepoint,Em.Thepointisthatnerveslike

yoursarewhyWeddingsByFelicityexists.SoIcantakethestressoffyourback.Andbecausethis
one’saboutyou,andIloveyou,Idon’tcareifitallhastobedoneatthelastminute.I’llmakeit

happen.It’salsoaloteasiertomakeithappenbecauseit’satyourmom’splace.Andwhenthere’sno
limitonmoney,obviouslythat’samajorhelp,aswell.”Felicitydownedanothersipofwine.
“Although,Ihavetosay,yourmotherisdrivingmebatty.Shewantseverythingherway.”

Emmawaslistening.Itwasjust…Allright,shewasn’tlistening.Shehadn’tbeenlisteningtoanyone

oranythingindaysnow.EversincethatafternoonwithGarrett,sheseemedtohavesuffereda
completebrainmeltdown.Shejustcouldn’tseemtostopreplayingthosemoments.Whenhe’dtugged
herwristandthey’dbeeninchesapart.Whendesirehadriseninherlikeafiercewildfire.She’d
wantedtobekissedatthatmomentmorethanshe’dwantedlifeorair.Wantedtokisshim.Wantedto
bekissedbyhim.There’dbeennothingelseinherhead,herheart,nothing.Itwaslikebeing
swooshedunderbyatidalwave.

AtidalwavenamedGarrett.

Anddamnit,itwasonethingtosettlewhenyouthoughtpalewasalltherewas.Butnowsheknew

shehadn’tcomeclosetothepossibilitiesbefore.

“Hey.”Felicitysnappedherfingers.“Wakeup,you.Remember,I’mtheonewhopaidforthegreat

wine?”

“Yes.Andthatwasreallyniceofyou.AndI’msorrymymother ’sbeingapain.”

Felicitywavedahand.“Brides’momsandgrooms’momscomewiththeterritory.It’slikehaving

toeatyourspinachwhenyou’reakid.Icandealwithit.AndIcandealwithyournerves,too,ifyou’ll
justletme.SoeitherstarttalkingtomeorI’llhavetoslapyou.”

Emmaunderstoodshewassupposedtolaugh.Butsomehowwhatcameoutofhermouthwasa

question.“DoyouthinkI’macoldfish?”

“Huh?Iwastalkingaboutcoldfeet,asinbeingnervous.Notcoldfish,asinbeingfrigid.”

“ButdoyouthinkIam?Imean…doIcomeacrossasless…sexual…thantherestofthegroup?”

“Oh,boy,thisisgettinggood.”Felicitydippedthewinebottleintoherglassagain,thensquirmed

herfannybackinthechair.“Honey,noonewegrewupwithislikelytowearawhitedressather
wedding,ifyouknowwhatImean.Although…”ShesuddenlysquintedatEmma.“Holyhorseradish.
Youcouldn’tstillbeavirgin,couldyou?Ididn’tthinkitwaspossible.”

“Atmyage?Comeon,”Emmascoffedandforthefirsttimereachedforherwineglassandtooka

gulp.

“Youcouldn’tbe,”Felicityrepeated,butshewasstillsquintingather.Squintinghard.

“I’mnot.I’mnot.”

“Well…”FinallyFelicityletitgo.“Let’sgobacktotheoriginalquestion.Whatwasthecold-fish

remarkallabout?”

Emmacouldn’tsit.Shewalkedovertothewindow,rubbedheritchybackagainsttheframe.“There

arealotofreasons…whyI’mnolongersureI’mtherightpersonforReed,”shesaidquietly.

“Okay.Sinceyouboughtupthecold-fishthing,Iassumesexistherealissuewe’renottalking

about,right?Andifthat’sallyou’reworriedabout,chill.”Felicityrelaxedagain,asifrelievedto
discovernothingimportantwastheproblem.“Comeon,youknowit’sthesameforeveryone.Sexis
alwaysgreatinthebeginning.Thenthefirstlustfadeslikethebloomontherose.Thenthecouple
bothhavetoworkatit—andgoodloversdojustthat,sotheytendtoendupjustfine.Youknowhow
itgoes.”

“Yes,ofcourseIdo,”Emmasaidandthistimefilledthewineglassherself,keepingherexpression

averted.

“Mytheory,though,isthatifitisn’tgreatinthebeginning,thentherelationshipjustisn’tworth

goingfor.Imean,aguywho’sselfishfromtheget-goneverimproves.That’snotaboutsex,it’s
aboutacharacterflaw,youknow?”Felicitysuddenlylookedstartled.“Reedisn’tthatkindofselfish,
ishe?Imean,Ibarelyknowhim.Butheseemslikesuch—”

Joshsuddenlyrappedontheopendoor.Herarelyinterruptedwhenshehadsomeoneintheoffice

—partlybecauseherarelyneededto.Hewasmorethancapableofhandlingmostproblemshimself,
butthistimeheclompedinwithafrown,droppedsomethinginherhandandclosedherfingers
aroundit.“Yougottaquitputtingthatinthebathroom.I’mscaredit’sgoingdownthedrain,”hesaid
andthenclompedrightbackoutoftheroomagain.

Emmaknewwhatitwaswithoutlooking…butshedidlook.There,inherpalm,wasthe

breathtakingsapphireReedhadgivenher.

Shejustcouldn’tseemtokeeptheengagementringonherfingerlately.Couldn’teventryto

pretend.

Felicitydidn’tseemtonoticetheexchange,justkeptonchatting.Eventuallyshestooduptoleave—

althoughnotuntilthebottlewasnearlyleveled.Shecarriedthetwocrystalglassesandthecorkscrew
asfarasthedoorway,butthenstalledthere,clearlyinnohurrytoleave…notoncetheystartedon
everyoneelse’sgossip.

“DidyouhearthepolicetalkedtoAbbyagain?Apparentlyshegotthemtotakefingerprintsofher

mother ’ssafe—andtheyfoundathumbandforefinger—andtheprintsweren’tofanyfamily
members!Sothey’requestioningEdithCarteragain.Youknow,Bunny’shousekeeper—”

“Ijustdon’tgetit,”Emmasaid,closingherhandsaroundtheringagain,feelingthestonepinch.

“Whenitcomesdowntoit,Abby’smomonlytoldabunchofgossip.Sure,peoplewouldn’twantitin
printiftheywerediscoveredsleepinginthewrongbed.Buttokillher?”

“Iknow,Iknow.ButthenifsomeonehadthecojonestoblackmailJackCartwright,youhaveto

believesomepeoplegetprettyshookupovertheirsecretsbeingtold.”

“Yeah,”Emmasaidthoughtfully,againfeelingtheweightandshapeofthesapphireinherpalm.

“Andanothersecretthing…IranintoMaryDuvallagain.Iknowyouusedtobegoodfriendswith

her.”

“Yeah,wewerereallyclosebackinhighschool.”

“Ithinkshe’sgreat.Butshejustlookssodifferentthanwhenwewereinschool.Suddenlyturned

intoaPendleton-and-pearlstype.Nomorewildcookie.Ithinkthere’sanothermysterythere.”

“Maybeshejustgrewup,”Emmasaiddrily.

“Andmaybeshehasadeep,darksecretthatmadeherwanttocomehideoutathomeagain…Hey,I

heardmaybetheyweregoingtoletCarolineoutofthehospitalinanotherdayortwo.Maybe,
anyway.Youhaven’theardwhathersecretis,haveyou?”

“No.”

“Well,ithastobesomethingbig.Agirldoesn’tswallowabucketofpillsifshe’sgotnothing

goingonbehindlockeddoors.God,thistown.Bigmoneymakesforbigsecrets,eh?”

WhenFelicityfinallyleft,Emmasettheengagementringonherdeskandletoutasighsofterthan

asouthernwind.Herfamilyhadsecrets,too.Butrightnowherownprivateheartacheofasecret
weighedsoheavilyonherconsciencethatshecouldbarelythink.

Therewasgoingtobehelltopayifsheduckedoutofamarriagethisfaralongintheplanning

stages.ButthemoresheworriedaboutwhatsheowedReed—andwhatsheowedherparents—the
moresheslowlyrealizedthatinherentirelifeshe’dneveraskedthebuffalosideofthatnickel
question.

Wasn’ttheresomepointinawoman’slifewhenshegottoask,whatdidsheoweherself?

Six

Garretthurriedthroughthehospitaldoors,pastdesks,pastpeople,pastcarts,pastanythingand

everything.Becausetheelevatorwastooslow,hetookthestairs.Hestumbledonthetopstep.Hell,a
mancouldhardlyrunintheslick-soleddressshoeshewasstuckwearingwithatux.

Histiestillwasn’ttied—henevercoulddotuxties.Buthe’dbeendressedandgrabbingthecarkeys

todrivetotheEastwickCountryClubdancewhenhegotthecallfromthehospital.

Attheheadnurse’sdeskhebarked,“Whereisshe?”

Hissister ’sroomhadbeenchanged.Shewasn’tbackinCriticalCare,thankGod,butthey’dmoved

hertothesmallpsychiatricunit,wheretheycouldkeephermonitoredfull-time.Caroline’srecovery
hadseemedonaclearupswinguntilaneventthatafternoon,whenthedoctorfearedshewasasuicide
riskagain.

Justoutsideherroomheslowedhisstepsohedidn’tbarrelintherelikeanoisyelephant.Buthis

stomachtightenedwhenhesawhissister.Shewaslyingonthebed,allcurleduplikeawoundedbaby,
facingthewall.StrapsonherwristspreventedherfromremovingtheIVsorgettinguponherown.

Thesamethoughtkeptechoinginhismind—thathewishedEmmawerewithhim.She’dknowwhat

tosay,whattodo.Heknewhowtowork,howtomakemoneybutnothowtodealwithpeople.He
neverhad.

Hissistermusthavesensedhispresence,becauseshesuddenlyturnedherhead.“Hey,bigbrother,”

shemurmured.

“Heyback.”

Shenoticedhistux.“Whew.You’relookingsohotthatIwanttowhistle,butmythroatseemstobe

mightydry.Theygavemesomethingawfullystrong.”Shewasn’tcompletelylucid.Hereyeskept
sluggishlyopeningandclosing.“Youalldresseduptotakemeoutforanightonthetown?”

“I’dtakeyououtintwosecondsifyou’dgo.”Heyankedachaircloser,parkedonit.“Whophoned

you,Caro?”

“Whatdoyoumean?”

“YouknowexactlywhatImean.Youweredoingfine.Weallthoughtyouwerecominghomein

anotherdayorso.Thenthenursesaidyougotacallthisafternoon—”

“Thatdaynurseissuchatattletale.”

Garrettignoredthat.“Andthenextthing,shefoundyouinthebathroomwithapieceofbroken

glassinyourhand.”

“Itwasanaccident.Ibrokethewaterglass—”

“Quitit,Caro.Itwasn’tanaccident.Whocalledyou?”herepeated,andwhenshedidn’tanswerhe

said,“Iknowitwasalocalcall,soithadtobesomeonefromEastwick.WhatinGod’snameisgoing
onthat’sgotyousoterrorized?Tellme.”

Shesmiled.“Aw,Garrett,youwerealwaysmywhiteknight.YoualwaysgotbetweenmeandDad

whenIwasintrouble.Orbetweenmeandawrongdate.”Sheclosedhereyes.“Doyouremember
whenIhadasleepoverthatonetime?Thinkwewerealltwelve.RaidedtheliquorcabinetafterMom
andDadwenttobed,allgotdrunkasskunks,thendecidedtogoswimming.Thenyoushowedup,
remember?”

“Iremember.Allsixgirlshurledalloverme,asIrecall.Notcountingthemessesalloverthe

house.”

“Butyousavedusall,Garrett.”Shesmiledathimagain.“You’vegoteverybodyfooledthatyou’re

acoldheartedworkaholic.Throughthickandthin,Icouldalwayscountonyou.You’retheonlyone
inthewholefamilywithintegrity.Realintegrity.”

“Obviouslythey’regivingyousomekindofhallucinatorydrug.Andallthisbeingniceisn’t

gettingyouoffthehook.It’stimeyoutoldmewhat’sgoingon.”

“What’sgoingon,”shesaidthickly,slowly,“isthatImadeamistakeIcan’tlivewith.”

AgainhewisheddesperatelythatEmmawashere.Emmawasn’tjudgmentalandshehadawayof

calmingpeopledown,makingthembelievethingswouldbeallright.Insteadhissisterwasstuckwith
justhim.“There’snomistakeyoucan’tlivewith,Caroline.NothingIcouldn’tforgiveyoufor.
NothingIwouldn’thelpyougetthrough.ButIcan’tprovethattoyouifyouwon’ttalktome.”

“Youwanttohelp?ThengetthehospitaltoreleasemesoIcangohome,”shesaid.

Yeah,sure.Andhavehergetanothercallathomefromthepersonwho’dbeenterrorizingher?

Hell,hedidn’tknowwhattodo.Butwhenhissisterfellasleep,hestumbledoutofthehospitaland
aimedstraightforthecountryclub.

Hewasn’tremotelyinapartymood,butthissummershindigwasoneoftheyear ’sbiggestgalas.

SomeonethereknewwhatwasgoingonwithCaroline.Theyhadto.AndEmmamighthavesome
ideasaboutwhotoquestionthathehadn’tthoughtof.

Fromahalfmileawayhestartedseeingthelights.Theplacewaslituplikeaminiaturegalaxy.The

multipleFrenchdoorsoftheformalballroomgapedopenontothepatio.Peopleweredancingboth
insideandout.Fountainssparkledwithrainbow-huedwater.Formallyattiredwaiterscarriedsterling
trays.Theguyswereallintuxes,butthewomenworeeverycolorintheuniverse—bridalwhitesand
sassyreds,sea-greensandshimmeryyellows,theglitternearlyblindingevenfromthedistance
whereheparked.Jewelstwinkledandshimmeredoneveryneck,everyear,everywrist.

Garrettwalkedaroundtothebackentrance,awayfromthecrush,hopingtoslipintothecrowd

withoutbeingnoticed.Intheolddays,theclubwouldhavehiredanorchestra.Thesedays,club
memberstoleratedatraditionalwaltznowandthen,buttheyalsowantedspicefortheirmoney—rock
androll,fandangos,musicwithabeatandsomesextoit.Still,sometraditionsneverchanged.
Flowersspilledoverontowrists,inwomen’shair,scentingthecentersofthetables.

Hesuddenlyhesitated.Hewasn’tafraidofsuchgatherings.

He’dgrownupinthisechelonofEastwicksociety.He’dratherbeworkingthanstuckmakingsmall

talk,butthatwasn’twhatsuddenlymadehimpause.

Fromadistance,thescenelookedlikeadream,withbeautifulpeoplelaughing,dancing,enjoying

eachother.Thatwaswhatithadalwaysbeenabout,Garrettsuddenlyrealized.Belonging.People
didn’thungertojointhecountryclubfortheprestigeofit.

Theyhungeredtobelong.Tosomething.Tosomeone.

Whenpushcametoshove,hefiguredthathadtobethecoreofhissister ’sproblem.Hedidn’t

knowthehow,thewhen,whyorwho.ButtheonlythreatworththekindofdespairCarolinewas
enduringhadtoemanatefromthatkindofsource—thethreatoflosingsomeonewhomattered.

Ormaybehewasimposinghisownhungertobelongonhissis’ssituation,hethoughtwryly.Until

comingbackhome—untilmeetingupwithEmmaagain—he’dneverthoughtofhimselfaslonely.
He’dneverthoughtheneededanyone.Yetnowthatdesiretobewithher,tobelongwithher,wasas
fierceas—

Andthenhesawher.Emmawasweavingthroughthedancers,thenpastthemandoutside,pastthe

spilloflightsandmusiconthepatio.She’dsurelyhaveseenhim—hewasjuststandinginthetree
shadowsbythewalk—ifshehadn’tbeensoobviouslyintent.Sheheadedstraightfortheblackiron
gatesoftheclubpool.

Thepoolwasclosedforswimmingtonight,buttheunderwaterlightshadbeenleftonfor

atmosphere.HewatchedEmmaunlatchthegate,stepinsideandoutofsightofthepartyers.Hergown
lookedluminescentintheaquamarinelight.ThestylemadehimthinkofaRomantoga,nothing
fancy,justaswathofsapphire-bluefabricthatdrapedoveroneshoulderandfelltoherankles.Slim
goldropestwistedaroundherwaistandunderthebodice.

Thesimplicityandclassinessofthegownsuitedherperfectly.

Shelikedherjewels—whatwomandidn’t?—yetshewaswearingnonetonight,unlikealltheother

womenthere.Herbarethroatgleamed,herskinitsownadornment.Hereyeshadmoreshineand
emotionthananygem.Hisheartsurgedjusttoseeher,justforthechanceofbeingnearher.

Butshewasn’talone.

ShewastalkingtotheonemanGarrettkeptconvenientlytryingtoforget.Herfiancé.Anditlooked

asiftheywerehavingadamnseriousprivatetalk,becauseReedKellyhadthepostureofamanwho
wasfuriousenoughtosnap.

Emmathoughtshe’dgooutofhermind.Naturallyshecouldn’ttalkseriouslytoReedinthemiddle

oftheclubdance,butshehadhopedtheycouldtakeoffhalfwaythroughtheevening,andthenshe’d
haveachancetotalkwithhimprivately.

Thatwashergoal,butshejustcouldn’tseemtomakeithappen.She’dbarelyseenReedfortwo

secondssincethey’darrived,muchlesshadaprayerofescaping.Beinginchargeoftheclub’sfund-
raisingcommitteedidn’thelp,becauseeveryoneandhismotherstoppedtochat.

Thesocialcrazinessstartedwhenfrail,slenderFrankForrestercorneredher.Frankhadbeenso

generoustotheclubandcommunitythatshecouldn’tavoidspeakingwithhim.Besides,hewasa
darling—althoughDelia,hiscurrentwife,wasquiteanexperience.Lotsofwomenvisitedaplastic
surgeonforonereasonoranother,butDelia’sboobsweresofaketheylookedlikemightyball
bearings.She’dgoneforatightsheathinaglitzylaméandcoveredeveryfingerinrings.Toeachhis
own,Emmaalwaysthought,butDeliawasso,sounlikethequietlygenerousFrank.

Afterthat,EmmahadtospendafewminuteswiththeDebsClub—allthegirlswerethere,with

eithertheirmatesorappropriaterailmeat.Felicity,ofcourse,keptshootinghermeaningfullooks,as
ifdeterminedtoremindheroftheirearlierconversation.AndthenMaryDuvallshowedup,covered
modestlyfromherthroattoherankles,veryquietlymakingherwaythroughthecrowd,lookingasif
sheneededafriendandsomeonetoreintroducehertoEastwickagain,soobviouslyEmmahadto
stepinthere.

AbbyTalbotswungherawayfromMaryforawhileafterthat.Gossipwasstillbuzzingabouther

mother ’sdeath—andwhowasgoingtotakeonwritingtheEastwickSocialDiary.Itwasthegossip
andmudslingingeveryonemissedmost.Abbywasusingthedanceasameanstoaskquestions.She
lookedgorgeous,asalways,buthermother ’sdeathseemedtohavechangedherfromaquiet,gently
understandingkindofwomanintoasteamroller.Shewantedanswers.

Andifshewantedjustice,shehadlostallfaithshewasgoingtogetitthroughthepolice

investigation.

Afterthat,EmmawascorralledbyJackandLilyCartwright.Emmahadgotteninvolvedinthe

EastwickCaresorganization—whereLilyhadbeenasocialworker—severalyearsbefore,sothey’d
becomefriends.HeavenknewEmmalovedworkingwiththeteenagers.Thistime,though,Lily
trackedherdown,lookingradiantandblooming,toaskifshehadanyfreetimethefollowingweek
foraspecialkids’project.

Emmasaidyes.Darnit,herschedulewastoopackedtoaddanymoretoit,butshe’dneverbeen

goodatsayingnotoanythinginvolvingkids,andbythenshe’dbeentoofrazzledtoeventry.

Reedfoundherandswirledherintoawaltz,butalmostimmediatelytheywereseparatedagain.

SomeoneclaimedReed’sattentionatthesametimeGarrett’sparentsdescendedonher.Barbaraand
MerrittKeatingwereusingeverypublicopportunitytosaythattheirdaughter,Caroline,wasallright.
She’djustaccidentallytaken“thewrongpill”andhad“achemicalreaction.”

“YouknowsomanypeopleinEastwick,Emma,”Barbarasaid.“Itwouldhelpsomuchifyou’d

helpsettherecordstraight.”

“Garrett’saroundheresomewhere,”hisfatherboomed.“He’lltelleveryone,too.We’revery

concernedaboutsomeofthehurtfulrumorswe’veheardspreadaboutCaroline.”

ImmediatelyEmmasearchedthecrowdforGarrettyetcouldn’tspothim.Hermothergrabbedher

armbeforeshehadanotherchancetoeventry.Hermomwasdressedinivory—herfavoritecolor—
andlookedslimandelegant.Onlytheslightestslurinherspeechwouldgiveanyonetheimpression
thatshe’dstartedpartyingmuchearlierthatday.Herdrinkingwasoneofthebest-keptsecretsin
Eastwick,buttonighthermomwasonahappybuzzforadifferentreason.

“IheardfromFelicitythatyouwerelikelygoingtoannouncetheweddingdateforsure.Like

tonight,dear?Iadmit,I’vebeenpassingalittlehintaroundourfriends….”

Emma’spulsepickedupafranticbeat.She’dmeanttotalktoReedtonight—butnowsheknewshe

hadtotalktohimimmediately,beforehermotherstartedspreadingtheweddinggossipevenfurther.
Allthesedutifulconversationshadbeennecessary,andtruthfullyshelovedallthesepeople,hadall
herlife.ButnowshehadtofindReedanddraghimtoaprivatespotsomewhere,somehow.

Shefoundhimtalkingtoawannabesenatorandsnaggedhiswrist.Hewashappytobedraggedoff,

butnotforthereasonsshehadinmind.Longbeforeshe’dgottenthemouttotheprivatespotbythe
pool,she’dknownthistalkwasgoingtobehard.Butshestartedoutsayinghonestly,“Reed,I’mnot
sureeitherofusreallywantsthismarriage,”andhejustdidn’tseemtobelieveher.

Hewentbacktofetchheradrink,apinotnoir—herfavorite—andthenwalkedaroundthepooltoa

spotwheretheywerecompletelycutofffromanyviewofthepartyers.Heseemeddeterminedto
believeshehadbridalnervesorthatshewasfussingoverthestressofputtingonthewedding.

Finally,though,heseemedtopickupthatthetearsinhereyesweren’tfromaminorcaseofstress.

“Allright,Emma.Justsayitstraight.Whatisallthisreallyabout?”

Shedesperatelywantedthatwinetosoothehernerves,yetsheputitdown,afraidshe’dchokeonit.

She’dneverdeliberately,willingly,hurtanyone.“Reed,youdon’treallywantme.Youhavetoknow
it.”

“Huh?OfcourseIwantyou.WhyonearthwouldIhaveaskedyoutobemywifeifIdidn’twant

youtobepartofmylife?”

Shepressedherhandtoherstomach.“Imeansex,Reed.Youdon’tfeelanybigattractionforme.”

Reedneverlosthistemper.HehadmorepatiencethanJob.Butshecouldseehewasstretchingto

keepittogetherbythen.“You’retheonewhodidn’twanttosleeptogetheruntilweweremarried.”

“Iknow.”

“Youfeltstronglyaboutit.Asyouputit,peoplesleeptogetherlikeit’sautomaticallyontheirtodo

listafterthey’vebeentogetherawhile,ratherthanitbeingsomethinguniqueorspecialforthetwoof
them.That’swhyyouwantedtodoittheold-fashionedway—waiting.Becauseyouwantedintimacy
tobesomethingmore.”

“IknowIsaidthat.AndImeantit.”

“Yousaidyouweretiredofcasualvalues.AndsoamI.AsfarasIknow,weweren’twaiting

becauseofnotwantingeachother.”

“Butyoudon’t,”shesaidquietly.“Wantme.”

“OfcourseIdo.ForPete’ssake,Emma.Thisisaridiculousconversation.You’reagorgeous

woman.Youcan’tpossiblybelievethatdesirewasn’tpartoftheequation.”

Shepersisted.“Ifyouwantedme—therightway,thewayI’dliketobewanted—youwouldn’thave

waited.Andit’sthesameforme.Iloveyou.You’reawonderful,wonderfulman.Andforalongtime
Ibelievedthatkindoflovewouldmakeagoodmarriage—”

“Butnowyousuddenlydon’t,”hesaidwithexasperation.

Shenodded.“Ithinkwe’d…manage.Butinthelongrun,Ithinkwe’dbothbemiserable.Lonely.

Thatwewouldneverhavethekindofmarriageyourparentshave,butmoremyparents’kindof
arrangement,becausethechemistryjustisn’tthere.”

Hefellsilent,lookingather,clearlyconsideringwhatshesaid.“Icouldarguewithyou,keep

tryingtotalk.ButIcanseeyourmind’smadeup.Youwanttocallitoff,”hesaid.

Shepulledthesapphireoffherfinger,offeredittohim.Whenhedidn’ttakeit,shegentlytuckedit

inhischestpocket.Buthestillwouldn’tlookatit.

“I’lltelleveryoneit’smyfault.Becauseitis,”shesaid.

Heimmediatelydismissedthatidea.“You’regoingtogetatonmorebacklashoutofthisthanI

will.I’lltaketheblame.Butrightnow…”Heshookhishead,thenspunaround.“RightnowIthinkI’ll
justtakeoff.Disappearforafewdays.Ifyoudon’tmind,Ireallydon’twanttotalktoyoufora
while.”

Hewalkedawayfromher,pastthepoolgate,yankingoffhistuxjacketasheheadedstraightforhis

car.

Emmacouldn’trememberthelasttimeshefeltlowerthanaskunk.

She’dneverhavechosentohurtasgoodafriend,asgoodaman,asReed.

Yetnomatterhowbadlyshefeltabouthurtinghim,deepinherheartshefeltthesteadybeatof

relief.Forthefirsttimeinmonthsshefeltasifshecouldbreathe.

Tomorrowthere’dundoubtedlybegossiphelltopaywhenEastwickcaughtwindofthebroken

engagement.Butforrightnowshewasfree—andthatincludedthefreedomtobeasupsetasshe
neededtobe.Shewhirledaround,thinkingthatsheneededtoreturntotheballroomtoretrieveher
bagandwrapbeforeshecouldgetoutofthere.Forjustaninstantshethoughtsheglimpsedthe
shadowofmovementintheshadytreesbeyondthewroughtirongate.Someonethere?

Whethertherewasortherewasn’t,sheheadedbackintotheballroom.Sheseemedtobeshaking

fromthetensionofthewholeemotionalscene.Shewantedtogohome—orbacktothegallery—as
quicklyasshecouldgetherthings.Escapewastheonlythingonhermind.

Atfour-thirtyinthemorning,Emmahadgivenuppretendingshecouldsleep.Sippingacupoftea,

shesatonthescreenedbackporchatthegallery,stilldressedinhereveninggownbutbarefootnow,
andwhentheeveningtemperaturehaddipped,she’dscaredupanoldsweaterfromtheshoptodrape
overhershoulders.

Shehadtolookprettyridiculous,buttherewasnoonearoundtosee.Thesunwasn’tdueupforat

leastanotherhour.Andalthoughlackofsleepwasundoubtedlygoingtocatchupwithher,shewas
tryingtobolstersomepeaceintohersystembeforefacingthedayahead.Sheknewitwasn’tgoingto
beeasy.

Beforeleavingthecountryclub,she’dcorneredhermothertoletherknowtheengagementwasoff

—itwastheonlywaytostophermomfromtalkinguptheweddingfortherestoftheevening.Bythe
timeEmmaarrivedbackatthegallery,though,herphonehadrungnonstop.

Hermotherhadcalledseveraltimes.ThenFelicityandotherfriends.

Thenherfather.

Evenbetweenphonecalls,she’dthrownup,whichstruckherasdarnnearfunny.Everyonein

Eastwickalwaysthoughtofherascalm,coolandcollected.ShewasthediplomatoftheDebs,notthe
instigator—thepeacemaker,nevertheconfronter.Andthis,ofcourse,waswhy.Whenevershehadto
doconfrontations,sheheaved.

Herstomachhadsettleddownhoursbefore,andshe’dturnedoffhercellphoneandallthe

landlinesinsideColor.Itwassolatethecricketsandfrogshadstoppedchirping.Solatethebaby
moonhadstarteddippinglowinthesky.Solatetherehadn’tbeenthesoundofacarpassinginhours.

Still,sheleanedherheadbackagainsttheroughporchwallandcouldn’tseemtofindanounceof

peace.

Inthedarknesssheheardthebackyardgatelatch,sawatall,darkshadow—andprobablyshould

haverespondedwithfear.Yetshedidn’t.

BythetimeGarrettclimbedthestepandrappedsoftlyonthescreendoor,shealreadyknewitwas

him.

Unlikeher,hewasdressedincomfortableoldchinosandashirt,thekindofclothessomeone

intelligentwouldwearatthistimeofthemorning.Butatthemomentshedidn’tfeelintelligent.She
feltvulnerableandshaken.Toovulnerabletowanttoseeamanwho’dcometomeanway,waytoo
muchtoher.

“Itoldmyselftoleaveyoualone,butIsawthelightinthegallerywhenIfirstgothome.Inever

sawitturnedoff.Startedworryingthatyouwerestillup,eventhislate.AndIcanseeyouare.”He
steppedin,quicklyclosedthescreenagainstmosquitoes.Butinsteadofapproachingher,hewentto
thefarsideofthescreenedporchandhunkereddownontheJapanesemat.“Seeme?I’mstayingon
theothersideoftheporch.Notcausinganytrouble.Notplanningto.But…Isawyou.Withyour
fiancé.Atthepool.”

“Ithoughtsomeonewasthere.”Herpulsestartedthatdancingthingagain,justfrombeingwith

him.“Therewasnoreasonforyoutoworryaboutme,Garrett.”

“WorryiswhatIdo.WhatgoodwoulditbetobeahardcaseobsessiveworkaholicifIdidn’tknow

howtoworryconstantly?Anditkeptbuggingme…Youhadtohavehadamightyroughnight.”

“Yeah,well…Ithinkawoman’ssupposedtohaveamiserablenightwhenshe’sbeenacreep.”

“Afteryouleft,thegossipswoopedovertheclublikeatidalwave.Thetalkwasthatthemarriage

wasoff.Butnoonehadacluewhocalledofftheengagement.Orwhy.Youtwoweresupposedtobe
theperfectcouple.”

“Theonewhocalleditoff—that’dbeme.Thecreepinthestory.”

“Feelingprettylow,areyou?”

“Ithurtslikethedevil.Ihatehurtingpeople.Ihatehurtingsomeonewho’sbeennothingbutgoodto

meevenmore.Thewholething…”

“Sucks?”

“Aperfectwordforit,”sheagreedmiserably.

“Anythingyouwanttovent?”

Shedidn’t.Nottoanyone.AndmaybenottoGarrettespecially.Yetthesilencehadbeenbeating

insideherforhoursnow.Silencethatwasn’tassimpleasguilt.“Reed’sbeenagoodfriendforyears.
SoIdidn’tjustloseafiancé.Ilostafriend.”

Garrettsaidnothing.Justleanedhisheadagainstthefarporchwallthewaysheleanedherheadin

theshadowsatherend.

“Foralongtime…foryears…Iwasdeterminednottomarry,didn’twantanythingtodowith

marriage.Irememberallthatwild,lustyheatIfeltwithyou….”

“SodoI.”

“Butwhenyouwentofftocollege,brokeitoff,youknowwhat?OnceIwasthroughsuffering

fromacrushedheart,Istartedfeelingrelieved.Evenasagirl,eventhatyoung,Iwasafraidofthat
chemistry.”Hedidn’tprodher,didn’tpush—which,damnhim,madeitallthatmucheasiertospill
herguts.“Myparentshavepossiblyoneofthesickestmarriagesaround.Notthesickest.Butoneof
thetrueterrible-for-each-otherrelationships.”

“Myparents’marriagemightbeabletocompeteatthatlevel.”

“That’sthething.Themoneyinthiscommunity,thepower,isfabulous.There’ssomuchpotential

todosomuchgood.Andwedo.Ilovethisarea.Butwhenmoneyandsexgettogether…”Sheshook
herheadexpressively.

“I’mnotsureIgetit…howthatrelatestowhyyouneverwantedtomarry.”

“Becausethat’salwayshowitis.Marriagesherearemergers.Awomanantesuponhersideofthe

dealwithsex,usinghersexualskillstoattractandkeepthemostpowerfulman.AndIjust…”

“What?”

“Ijustneverwantedtolivemylifethatway.”

“Comeon,Em.Therewasneveranyruleyouhadtoplaylifebythoseconditions.”

“Arule,no.Butthepressureneverletup.Myparents,mygrandmother,ardentlywantedmetobe

married—totherightman,intherightfamily—tostarthavingkidsandaddingtotheDearborn
dynasty.AnditseemedlikeReedwasananswerbecausehewassuchagoodfriend.Untilyoucame
home.”

“Hey,how’dIenterthisequation?”

“Because,youhorribleman,I’dtalkedmyselfintobelievingforyearsthatchemistrywasn’t

important.Didn’thavetobeimportant.Iwasn’tremotelyafraidofasexualrelationshipwithReedor
worrieditwouldn’tbeallright.Ididn’twantmore.ItneveroccurredtomethatIwascheatinghimof
more.”

Sheleanedforward,shootingGarrettaharsh,sternglareinthedarkness—evenifshecouldn’t

quiteseehisface.

“Butyoukissedme,”shesaidsoftly.“AndIwasbackrememberingwhatitwasliketobeseventeen

again.Hotandhungry.Fullofyearning.Andsuddenlyitwasn’tenoughtospendawholelifetimeof
allright.”

“I’vebeenheldresponsibleforafairnumberofthingsinmylifetime.Beingcold-bloodedin

businessdeals.Beingcluelessinrelationships.Beingtoughinnegotiations.ButIdon’tthinkanyone
eversuggestedmykissingtechniquehadanypowerbefore.”

“You’rejoking.I’mnot.Darnit,Garrett,you’veruinedmylife,”shesaid.Andstood.

Seven

Garrettsawherwalkingtowardhiminthedarkshadowsoftheporch.Heassumedshewascoming

closetoengageinamoreseriousconversation.She’djustclaimedthathe’druinedherlife.Only
therewassomethingoddinhertone,notjustthehintofhumorhewasn’texpecting,butsomething
else.

Thatsomethingelsewasinthegleamofhereyeswhensheleaneddown…croucheddown…and

thenpounced.

Theaimonherfirstkissmissedthemark.Herlipssmooshedhischeek,butthenhomedmore

accuratelythanradaronthetargetshereallywanted.Inthedarkcorneroftheporch,wherehewas
sittingcross-leggedonamat,hefeltherelbowdigintohisribandherfannynestleintohislap—
initiallythreateningthefamilyjewels.Hecaughtapalehintofperfume.Feltthesilkylonggowndrift
aroundhim.Tastedthenakedsoftnessofherlips.

Unlesshedidsomething—andquickly—hesuspectedshewaseithergoingtoinjureor

permanentlymaimhim.Enthusiasmcouldbeadangerousthing,yetseveringthekissdidn’tseemto
beanoption.

Inathousandyearshe’dneverexpectedEmmatojumphim.Shewasn’tthejumpingtype.Yetmore

evocativethanbeingjumpedbyEmmawasherlackoffinesse.Shereallycouldn’thavedonethis
much.Ifever.

Andherlackofexperienceseemedtomakehisbloodrushlikeahot,wildriver.Stilllatchedonto

her,heusedonehandtosnugdownherspine,toleanherdown,down,untilshewaslyingonthemat.
Hestillhadaleghookedunderher,akneethreateningtobreak,buthemanagedtopullthatlooseand
thenhecouldliewithher.Lengthtolength.Stilllatchedtogether.Andwithbothhandsfreenowto
holdherstill,toframeherface,toinvestpressureandemotionandpromiseintothenextsetof
kisses.

Hetookhertongue.Heardherheaveasigh,abreathy,artlessgroan.Amiserablegroanoflonging

andwanting.

Hergownwasheldupbyaswathofsilkononeshoulder.Thatwasall.Herothershoulderwas

bare,softerthanababy’sbutt,andwhenhislipstraileddown,hefoundthesoftthuddingpulseinher
throat,thefragilelineofhercollarbone.Andthatnakedshoulderhadhimsodamnedmesmerized
thathehadtotasteandnuzzle.

Herkneeshotupasifshewantedtowindalegaroundhim,yetnearlyconnectedwithhisfamily

jewelsagain.

Controlslipped.Garrettneverletcontrolslip.Notinlife,notinwork,notinsex.Buthell,shewas

justsowild.Forhim.Asimpossibleasitseemed,shewaswildforhim.

Hisemotionaltimberswerealreadyshaken,heknewthat.He’dbeenupallnight.Norest,nosleep.

Itbotheredhimfiercelythathe’dseenthatprivatescenebetweenherandReed.Itbotheredhimthat
Reedhadn’tfoughtforherthewayamanshouldhavefoughtforanunforgettablewomanlikeEmma.
Itbotheredhimthatshe’dlookedsobowedandcowedafterKellylefther.

Forhourshe’dtoldhimselftostayoutofit;herrelationshipwithReedwasnoneofhisbusiness.

Besideswhich,hewasafraiditwouldembarrassEmmaifhesaidanything.Noonewantedscenes
likethatwitnessedbyanyone.Whowaseverhappywithhowtheybrokeuporfoughtwithsomeone?
Thosesceneswerealwayshorrible.

Butdamn,itwassoobviousthatshe’dfeltterrible.Andwhenhe’dfinallyescapedthedanceand

hightailedithome,he’dfoundhimselfstandinginhisupstairswindow,watchingforlightsatColor.
Hell,hedidn’tevenknowifthat’swhereshe’dlandthatnight.Butthenhe’dseenthelightsgoon,a
trailfromthefrontofthegalleryleadingtowardtheback…andthennothing.

He’dpaced.Andpaced.Naturallytherewasn’tmuchhecouldseefromthesecond-storywindow

twohousesdownfromhers.Whenhe’dgottenaroundtorealizingthathewasdownrightspyingon
her,he’dwantedtowhackhimselfupsidethehead.Hedidn’tdothingslikethat.Butfinallyhejust
couldn’tstandit.Hehadtoknowshewasallright.

Andnowheknew.

Shewasn’tallright.

Clearlyshewasn’tremotelyallright.

Shetwistedfrombeneathhim,kneltandtuggedfoldsonfoldsupofthesilkygownoverherhead.

Beneath,sheworeasatinthong.Herhaircamedowninacloudaroundhercheeks,andbeforehis
brainhadtimetoregisterhowdazzlingshewas,howexquisite,she’dcomebacktohim.

“Loveme,Gar,”shewhispered.“Wemissedthislasttimearound.Idon’twanttomissitagain.I

wanttoknow—I’veneededtoknow,allthistime.Whatwearetogether.Whatwecouldhavebeen.”

Hervoice,solikevelvet,caressedhimalmostasevocativelyasherhands.Hedredgedupsome

sanityfromGodknewwhere.“Emma,Ididn’tcomehereforthis.Iswear.Iunderstand,you’reupset
—”

“Didn’tyouwonderhowitwouldbebetweenus?”shewhispered.

“Yes.”Nowaytodenyit.Nowaytodenyanythingwithherfingers,pleatedopen,skimmingup,his

ribs,hischest,tohisneck…herlipsonlyabreathaway.

“Iregretteditamilliontimes.Thatwedidn’tmakelovebackthen.”

“Me,too.”

“I’mtiredofregrets,Gar.I’velivedbytheruleseverywhichwayIknowhow.They’renot

working.Iwantyou.I’vewantedyouforever.Areyougoingtosayno?”

Asifhecould.Maybeawhileback—afewminutesback—hemighthavestillhadabrainandsome

principles,butnowanythinkingpowerhe’deverhadwaspressingthickandhardagainstherbelly.
He’dlabelitlust,exceptthiswasahelluvalotmorelethalthanlust.

Whenhetookhermouththistime,itwasdifferent.Whenheleveledherontothemat,everything

wasdifferent.Hetoldhimselfthathe’dturnedintotheseducer,yetitwasn’ttrue.Theywerebothon
fire,bothinafrenzy—totoucheverywhere,tocherish,toclaim.

Hehadnoideawhathappenedtothatsatinthong,buttherewasnothingbetweenthemwhenit

mattered.Whenhethrustinsideher,hefeltasifsomethingshatteredinsidehim,asifsomepartof
himhadbeenprotectedbyashellallhislife,andwithherthatprotectiveshellwaslost.

Hewantedher.Neededher.Likeair,likefire,likeearth.Herscent,hersounds,hertaste…hewanted

allofher,everywhichwayfromSunday,now,immediately,completely.

Shecalledhisname,grippinghimtightlywithherinnermuscles,incitinghimhigher,faster,

harder.“Loveme,”shekeptwhisperingsoftly,fiercely,asiftherewereeveratimewhenhehadn’t.

Whenthefirstspasmofreleaseshudderedthroughher,hecouldnolongerholdback.Violentwith

need,relentlessatdrivingherhigherthanshe’deverbeen,herodethembothtotheedge…andthen
tippedover.

Bythetimehesankagainsther,buryinghisfaceinherhair,hecouldn’thaverousedforafire.

Nothingcouldhavemadehimleaveher.

Garretthadnoideahowlonghe’dbeenasleep,butwhenhiseyessuddenlyopened,thesunwas

pokingitsheadoverthehorizon.Asoft,smokylightseepedthroughtheporchscreens.Robinswere
havinganorgyinthedew-drenchedgrass,pluckingworms.Someone’scatprowledthewhitepicket
fenceline.AndhewasstrokingEmma’sbackwhileshewasstrokinghis.Sidebyside,bothoftheir
headsonthesamejacquardpillow.

Thematbeneaththemwasascomfortableandyieldingasbamboospikes.Still,hedidn’tmove.He

hadthecraziestfeelingthathe’dbeenlookingintohereyesjustlikethis,exactlylikethis,right
beforehe’dcompletelycrashed.

“AmItheonlyonewhoslept?”hemurmured.

“No.Idroppedofflikeastone.BetterthanI’vesleptinweeksandweeks.”

“Butshort.”OneofthemmusthavepulledherGreciangownoverthem.Themorningwaswarm

enough,yetthegownhardlymadeanadequateblanket.Andstillneithermoved.“Whattimedoyou
openthegallery?”

“Notuntilten.ButJosh’llbeherebynine-thirty,latest.”

“Soweneedalltracesofcrimeerasedbythen?”

“TheonlycrimeIcanthinkof,”shemurmured,“isthatInevertriedseducingyoubackwhenwe

wereteenagers.”

“Youwereprettystraightbackthen.”

“Stillam,”sheconfessed.

“Notwithme.”

“Notwithyou,”shewhisperedandkissedhim.Theycouldn’thavecaughtmorethanacouple

hours’sleep,yethewassuddenlyarousedagain.

Morethanaroused.Onfire.Forher,onlyforher.

Sheclosedhereyesandjustseemedtoloseherselfinhim.Sherespondedblindly,fiercely,toevery

touch,everykiss,everysound,asifnomanhadeverseepedthroughherdefensesthewayhedid,as
ifshe’dneverwantedbefore,neverneededbefore.

Ormaybethatwasjusthim.Feelingthatwayabouther.Evenasateenager,hecouldn’trecall

feelingthiscrazy.Hewantedtobewithhermorethanhewantedlifeorbreath.Hedidn’tcareabout
tomorrow.Didn’tcareaboutanythingbuthavingher,takingherandbeingtaken.

Ashetuggedherbeneathhim,hehadn’tforgottenhissister ’sgraveproblems…orthepublic

complicationsofEmma’scalled-offengagement.Inamatterofhours,theybothhadtofacethe
realityofheavyproblemsintheirlives.

Maybethatpropelledhimtobeabetterloverthanhewas.Abetterloverthanhethoughthecould

be.ButwhenEmma’slegswerewrappedaroundhim,herthroatarchedasshesurrenderedtorelease,
hefeltawild,crazyrushthatwasfarmorethanorgasmic.

Alltheseyears,he’dnevermarried.Inthatinstantheknewitwasbecausehe’dneverreallytrusted

anyone.Inhisworld,heonlytrustedhimself….Yethe’dalreadytrustedEmmawithhisfearsabout
hissister,abouthislife.Andnow,irrevocably,hewastrustingherwithhisheart.

Withher,allhissecretswerecomingoutofthewoodwork.

Hewasinlovewithher.

Realizingitwasthemostterrifyingsensationhecouldremember.Butdamn,itwasbeyond

wonderful.

Emmalefthimsleeping,knowinghowlittleresthe’dhad.Shetookafewsecondstorestorethe

gallerytoorder,turningofflightsandturningonthephones,beforehustlingintotheshower.

Assheshouldhaveexpected,thephonestartedringingtheinstantshesteppedunderthespray.Her

hairwasfoamedupwithshampoowhensheheardasecondroundofringing.Andshewasdryingoff
andtiptoeingaroundherbedroomofftheporchwhenshehearditringyetagain.

Damn.Soonshehadtostarttakingthosecalls.Itdidn’tmatterhowexhaustedshewas,sheknewshe

couldn’tescapeafullscheduletoday.Shetwistedherstilldamphairintoachignon,pulledonalight
linenskirtandT-shirt,pushedherfeetintosandals,tookabreathandthenaimedbackfortheporchto
findherlover.

Itwasinherheart,thatbeat.Thatfind-her-loverbeat.Itwasn’tfamiliar,thesong,themusic,yetin

spiteofeverything—andGodknowssheknewshewasfacingArmageddontoday—herheartcouldn’t
seemtostopsinging.

OnthebackporchshefoundGarrett,lookinggroggy-eyedandwild-haired,wearing

undershorts…andmakingherwanttolaugh,becausehiscellphonelookedgluedtohisear.He
couldn’tescapehisbusinesslifeanymorethanshecouldescapehers.

Foramomentshejustsavoredthelookofhim.Inhighschool,kidshadpeggedhimasabrain

morethanajock.Butshe’dgottentoknowthatbarechestbackthen,hadalwaysknownhisshoulders
werelikemarble,hischesttightlymuscled.

Shehadn’tknownwhatacreativeloverhe’dbe.Andwhenhesuddenlynoticedherinthedoorway,

sherealizedshe’dneverknownhowvulnerablethosewickeddeepbrowneyescouldbe,either.
Emotionhungbetweenthem.Somethingwarmerthanthesultrymorning,somethingmagical.He
liftedahandinagestureinvitinghercloserandimmediatelycutshortthecall.

“Hey,beauty,”hemurmured.

“Hey,you,”shemurmuredrightback.“IthoughtIheardyourphoneringingseveraltimes,because

yourringersoundissodifferentthanmine.ButIknewIwasinforpersonalcallstoday.What’sthis
foryou—workcallsstartbuggingyouevenbeforeseveninthemorning?”

“Hey,youdon’tgettheplaqueforbeingaworkaholicifyougetoffthetreadmill.”

“Butyougetcallsthisearlyallthetime?”

“Justthenatureofthework,Emma.”Itwasjustidleconversation.Hewaslookingather.Shewas

lookingathim.

Allshewantedwastoclimbbackonthatimpossiblyhardmatwithhimandmakeloveallday.

She’dneverthoughtofherselfasafragilewoman,butrightnowshefeltmorefragilethanasingle
silkthreadinthesunlight.ItwasGarrett’sdoing.Whenhe’dfoundherlastnight,she’dbeenso,so
low.Yethe’dmadeherfeellikeawoman,thewayshe’dneverfeltaboutherselfasawoman.

Shewantedtotellhim.Toshowhim.

Butalongdaywaswaitingforher.Andshewasunsurewhatlastnighthadmeanttohim.Besides

which,thecirclesunderhiseyestattledhowhardhe’dbeenpushingitsincehe’dcomehome.

Sheshookherhead.“Garrett,youwerealwaysthatway.Driven.Committed.Never-say-die.”

“Iknow.They’reontheheavylistsoffaults.”

“They’rewonderfulqualities,youdoofus.Butforthenexthourandahalfyou’returningoffthe

phoneandcomingwithme.”

“Goingwhere?Anddoesthewherehavecoffee?”

“You’regoingfingerpainting.Andyes,I’llgetyoucoffeefirst.”

“Fingerpainting.Yeah,right,”hesaidwithalaugh.

Naturallyhethoughtshewasjoking.Shebribedhim—ifheturnedoffhiscellphoneforanhour,

she’dtellhimthetruth.Bythetimeshe’dsuccessfullyconfiscatedhisphone,theywereinherwhite
van,cartingmugsofalmond-toffeejavaasshedrove.Andtold.

Itwasoneofhersecrets.Notabigone,butnevertheless,notpublicknowledge.GarrettknewLily

CartwrightbutnotthatLilyusedtobeasocialworkerforEastwickCaresorthatshe’dhookedEmma
upwiththegrief-counselingcenter.

“Istilldon’tgetit.Howdoyougetfromgriefcounselingtofingerpainting?”

Sheshowedhim.Thebuildingwasnew,builtinashadycul-de-sacwithawatergardenandducks—

althoughtheducks,sheadmitted,werestrictlyvolunteer.Whentheywalkedinside,fourchildrenwere
sittingoncandy-coloredbeanbags.

“Sheesh,youguysareearly,”shetoldthesquirts,whoswarmedthemboth.Marthawasthree,

Georgewasfive,andthetwofour-year-oldswereElisabethandPops.

“Ishegonnapaintwithus,Ms.Dearborn?”

“Ikeepingtellingyou,youcancallmejustplainEmma,honest.Andyes.HisnameisGarrett

Keating.Andbelieveitornot,he’sneverfingerpaintedinhiswholelife.”Becausehelookedstunned
andscaredatthedoor,shehookedhisarm.

“You’rekidding.”Pops,thepint-sizeblondewiththetwinkly-lighttennies,tookhisotherarm.

“You’rereallyold.”

“Thanks,”Garrettsaid.

“What’dyoudowhenyouwereakid?Like,ifyouneverfingerpainted?”Elisabethwantedto

know.

“Heprobablydoesn’tremember.He’sold,”thepint-sizeblondevolunteeredagain.

Emmasteeredthempasttheopenkitchen,pastthecentralmeetingplace.Theroomswere

constructedinawagon-wheelfashion.

Olderteenagersweregivenaroomwitheasychairsandcuddlingblankets.Preteenshadaroom

withgamesandwallstheycouldwriteon.Thelittleones,though,werehers.

Herroomcouldbehoseddown—orthatequivalent.Goodthing,becausetheartprojectsshegot

thesquirtsintoinvariablyinvolvedpaintorclayorsomethingthatgotoneverything.Beforehanding
outaprons—includingoneforGarrettthatmadeherbabiesalllaugh—shehidthephonesfrom
harm’sway.

WhenshesethercellphonenexttoGarrett’sonasafetopshelf,shenoticedimmediatelythatshe’d

missedahalf-dozencallssincelastnight—threeofthemfromhermother.Shegulped.Butnotfor
long.

Latertodayshe’ddealwithhermotherandalltheotherrealitiesrelatedtoherbrokenengagement.

Thismorningwasaboutsomethingelse.Thekids…andGarrett.Garrett,whomadetonsofmoney
andtooktonsofresponsibility.Garrett,who’dbeensotenderandpassionatewithher.Garrett,who
neverplayed.

Therewasn’tmuchshecouldgivebacktohim,butshecoulddarnwellteachhimtoplay.Shejust

wantedthesemomentsofmagictolastaslongastheycould.Forher.Butforhim,too.

“Now,stoplookingatMr.Garrett.Hehastowearmyapronbecausewedon’thaveonehissize.We

don’tlaughatotherpeople,dowe?”

“No,”Garrettsaidpitifullyandgotthekidslaughingagain.

Shegatheredthemaroundthetableasshesetoutsupplies.“Okay.Iwanteverybodytocloseyour

eyes.Iknowyou’veallfeltsadlately.ButthismorningIwantyoutoconcentrate.Iwantyoutothink
aboutsomethinghappy.Somethingbeautiful.Andthat’swhatIwantyoutopaint.Colorsthatyouthink
arebeautiful.Colorsthatmakeyouhappytolookat.”

“Idon’tknow.Ishetoooldtobehappy?”PopscockedherheadtowardGarrett.

EmmaintervenedbeforeGarrettneededtocomeupwithananswer.“Noone’severtoooldtobe

happy.Butsometimesthingshappenthatmakeussad.Wecan’tmakethatfeelinggoaway.Butitcan
helpifwerememberwhatmakesushappy.So…areyouallreadytotry?”

“I’dbetterhelphim.”AgainPopscockedherheadatGarrettwithasigh,asifthejobwereso

weightyshewastiredalready.

Alittlemorethananhourlater,thelasturchinhadbeenpickedup.Anotheragegroupwas

occupyingroomsatthecenterwhenEmmaandGarrettleftthebuilding.Emmahadtoteasehim.“I’ve
neverseenafour-year-oldflirtbefore.Whatafemmefatale.”

“Flirt?Flirt?Shewasafour-year-oldcurmudgeon.NothingIdidwasright.Andshelaiditon

damnthickaboutmybeingold,old,old.”

“Shefellinlovewithyouonsight.Couldn’tyoutell?”

“Wasthatbeforeoraftershefingerpaintedaredheartonmysleeve?”Hemotionedtotheeloquent

redpaintonhissleeve.“Doesthiscomeout?”

“Itshould.Butifitdoesn’t,I’llbetyoucanaffordanothershirt.”

Beforetheyreachedhervan,shehookedhishand,thenliftedupontiptoeandframedhisfacewith

herpalms.“Ihatetotellyouthis…”

“Uh-oh.Nothinggoodeverfollows‘Ihatetotellyouthis’—”

“Butyou’resmilingtobeattheband.You’rerelaxed.Youhadafabuloustimewiththekids,”she

saidsmugly.

“I’mnotadmittinganything.HowcouldIpossiblyhavehadagoodtimefingerpaintingwitha

bunchofhellions?”

“Itbeatsme—butyouwererightinthethickofitall.Ithinkyoumadeabiggermessthantheydid.

Thatseemslikeheadlinenewstome.Infact,ifBunnywerestillalive,Icouldcallher,putitinthe
infamousEastwickSocialDiary.Noonewouldbelievethishugeascandalunlesstheysawitinprint.”

Hiseyesnarrowed.Buthehadn’tmoved,didn’tseemtomindherpinninghimwithherhands.

“You’vegotanevilsidetoyou,EmmaDearborn.”

“Oh,thankyou.That’sthenicestthinganyone’ssaidtomeinyearsandyears.”

Shewasn’tsurehowithappened,butsomehowshe’dendedupinhisarmsagain.Infact,he’d

seemedtoquitearrogantlyleanagainsttheshadysideofhervanandnestleherrightintotheVofhis
thighs.“Youwanttohearnicethings?”hequestioned.

Shesobered,becausehe’dsuddenlydroppedtheeasy,teasingtone.Hereyessoftened.“WhatI

want…isforyounottoregretlastnight.”

“That’smyline,Em.Whenyouwokeupthismorning,Iwasafraidyou’dthinkItookadvantageof

you.”

“ThewayIrememberit,Ijumpedyou.SoIshouldgetthecreditfortakingadvantage,notyou.”

Buthewasn’tbuyingthat.Andthoughhewasholdingherclose,hisgazekindledmorethandesire.

“You’djustbeenthroughareallyemotionalsituation.Youwereupset,vulnerable.Icameover
becauseyourlightsstayedonsolate….Ijustgotworried,thoughtyoumightneedsomeonetotalkto,
venton.ButIswear,Iwasn’ttryingtocauseanawkwardcomplicationinyourlife.”

Shesaidquietly,honestly,“Garrett,youareacomplicationforme.Youhavebeeneversinceyou

camehome.”

Hewentstill.Wary-still.Acarpulledintothecenter ’sparkinglot.Noisykidsspilledout.Henever

noticed,neverlookedaway.

Shetookanervousbreath.“Ithinkalotofpeoplewouldjudgemymakinglovewithyouyesterday

aswrong.WrongbecauseIwassorecentlyengaged,wrongbecauseitlookedlikeareboundthing.
ButIwantyoutoknow…itwasn’tlikethat.Whatyou’vedonesinceyoucamehomewasbringout
feelingsinmethatIdidn’tknowIhad.Allkindsoffeelings.Notjustsexualones.IfI’dmarriedReed,
itwouldhavebeenwrong.That’sthetruth.”

“Yousoundverysure.”

“I’mabsolutelypositive.IloveReedthewayyouloveawonderfulclosefriend.ButIneverloved

him…sexually.Intimately.Tobetotallyhonest,IthoughtthefeelingsIhadforhimwerealltherewas.
ForagesIjustthoughtI’mnotaparticularlysexualperson—”

“Youcan’tbeserious.”

Shefelthisthumbnudgingastrandofhaironhercheekthathadloosenedfromitschignon.His

touchwassotendershewantedtoshiver.“I’mveryserious.Itwasalwayseasyformedothecelibate
thing.Inprinciple,fordarnsure,IneverwantedtobecourtedbecauseIwasanheiresstothe
Dearbornmoney,didn’twanttobepartofsomemerger.Butnow,Irealizethatitwaseasytohold
tighttothoseprinciples…becauseIwasneverreallytempted.”

“Theguysgrowinguphereusedtobesosmart.TheymusthavegottenalotstupiderintheyearsI

wasaway.”

Shesmiledbecausehewantedherto.“You’regoingtothinkthisismightyPollyannaish,but…”

“Butwhat?”

“ButIwantedmakinglovetobebeautifulorIneverwanteditatall.Inthegrandschemeofthings,I

realizebeautydoesn’trateupthereasseriouslyimportant.It’shardlyworldpeaceorcuringworld
hungeroranything.ButIalwaysfelt…beautydoesmatter.Itcanmakeadifference.Beautyaroundus
cangiveuspeaceandhopeand…”Shestartedtolaughatherself…“Andallthatnonsense.”

“That’snotnonsense,Emma.”

“Well,Irealizeit’shardlyarealisticviewoftheworld.Which,Godknows,myfamilyisalways

tellingme.ButI’mjusttryingtosaythatlastnightwasbeautiful.Forme.ItwaswhatI’dheldoutfor.
AndI’mgladIdid.”

Sheraisedupagainandkissedhim.Notakissofenticement.Just…shewantedtogivehim

somethingsweetandhonest.Soherlipsbrushedhis,softerthanawhisper.Morefleetingthana
promise.

Shedidn’tknowwhathewantedfromher.Whathefelt.There’snowayshewouldhaveasked.It

wascrazytothinkhecouldpossiblycareasfiercelyanddeeplyasshedid—notthissoon.Notinthis

shortatime.Butherheartwasfilledtobrimmingoverwithemotionsandchoicesandwonderthat
shehadn’texpectedtofeel.

Rightorwrong,crazyornotcrazy—impossibleornotimpossible—sheknewshe’dfalleninlove

withhim.

Eight

Late-afternoonsunpouredthroughthewindshieldasEmmaturnedintoherparents’driveway.As

sheshutofftheengineandclimbedout,shetookalong,bracingbreath.

Thisvisitwasgoingtobedifficult,butithadtobedone.Sheowedherparentsamoreextensive

explanationaboutReedandthebrokenengagement.Andthisafternoonwasthebestpossibletimeto
handlethis,becauseshefeltararesurgeofstrength—notthepoisesheputoninpublicbutdarnnear
somethingreal.Sheactuallywantedtohavethistalkwithherparents,wantedtobehonestwiththem.
Itamazedher.

SheknewGarrettwasthecatalystforthatboostofconfidence.Darnit,atherage,sheshouldn’t

needsomebodyelsetovalidateher.Buthehad.He’dmadeherfeelacceptedandwantedforwhoshe
was—notwhootherswantedhertobe.Andasshehikedtothefrontdoor,shefeltaneasinessonthe
insideshehadn’texperiencedinamonthofSundays.

Pausingbeforeentering,sheglancedup.Shelovedthishouse,alwayshad.Dearbornshadbuiltita

centurybefore.Withitsfourchimneysandmultipleroofsandgothicturrets,itwasn’tquiteacastle
butalmost.Asayounggirlshe’dfantasizedaboutbeautyandperfection,formedbythegorgeous
homesurroundingher.Thehouseitselfhadalwaysgivenherasenseofsecurity,especiallywhenreal
lifehadn’tbeenthateasywhenshewasakid.

Sheletherselfin,calling,“Mom!Dad!I’mhome!”

Funny,butshe’dbeensleepingsooftenatColorthatshe’dpracticallyforgottenthiswastechnically

stillheraddress.Hermomrushedoutofthelivingroom,herheelsclatteringontheparquetfloor.At
aglanceEmmacouldseeshewassober,whichwasbothareliefandasurprise.ButDianawasusually
impeccablygroomed,andtodayherwhitelinenslacksandtoplookedsleptin,herhairindisarray.“I
calledandcalledyou.Whydidn’tyouanswer?”

“ButIdid,Mom.IleftamessagethatI’dbeherethisafternoon.Iknewyou’dbeupsetoverthe

breakup,butitalsowasn’tsomethingwecoulddiscussinaquickphonecall.Ihadameetingthis
morningandthenIhadtohavelunchwithFelicitytostartcallingoffalltheweddingarrangements
—”

Hermotherwavedafrantichand,clearlyexpressingthatthosewereunnecessarydetails.“Youhave

togetReedback.Rightnow,today.Immediately.Youhavetomarryhim.David!”shecalled,although
shenevertookhereyesoffherdaughter.“Emma,youhavetolistentous!”

Emmastiffened,losingsomeofthesurenessshe’dfeltwalkinginhere.HertimewithGarrett

suddenlyseemedamillionhoursago.“Mom,IknowhowfondyouareofReed.AndIknowhow
muchyouwantedtohavetheweddinghere,butI’lltakecareofcancelingallthosearrangementsand
details—”

“Ithasnothingtodowiththearrangementsorexpense,youfoolish,foolishgirl.David!”

Herfathershowedupinthedoorway.Shegotaquickhug.Veryquick.Theygotjustcloseenough

forhertofeelhispoker-straightspine,toseethetightlinesaroundhiseyes.“Honey,youdon’t
realizewhatyou’vedone.”

“OfcourseIdo.Icalledoffanengagement.”

“Youthrewawayafortune,”hermothersaidfuriously.“Nowcomeinhereandsitdown.Afterwe

talk,youcancallReedandmakeituptohim.”

Somethingwaswrong.Nothingtheyweresayingwasmakingsense.Theserenityshe’dwalkedin

withcompletelydesertedher.“Whatonearthareyoutalkingabout?”

Theyflankedhergoingintothelivingroom.Unlikeanormalafternooninthiscoral-and-cream

room,though,therewasnodecanterofscotchonthepricelessChinesemirroredcoffeetable,noTV
onbroadcastingthenews,nofancyhorsd’oeuvrestomunchon.Infact,theroomwassostill,it
resembledashowpiece.

“Sit,”herfatherordered.

Theyalldid,butitwashermotherwhostartedtalking.“You’vethrownawaymillionsofdollars,”

shesaiddramatically.

Itwashermom’smom,theSoulesideofthefamily,who’dcomeoverontheMayflower.Herdad

hadmarriedintothatoldaristocracy—andoldmoney.Hissidewashardlypoor,andheavenknew,
he’dmadehisownfortune.ButitwastheoldSoulemoneythataddeduptoapieceoftherock.At
least,theDearbornrock.

“Comeon,youtwo.Fillmein.Idon’thaveacluewhatyou’retalkingabout.”

“Emma,youclaimedforyearsthatyouhadnointerestinmarrying.Yourgrandmotherwasafraid

youmeantit.Sowerewe.Andthere’dbenoonetopassonthewholeDearbornlegacyunlessyou
marriedandhadchildren.Soyourgrandmothermadeitaconditionofyourtrust…thatyouhadto
marrybeforetheageofthirtytogetthemoney.”

ForthefirsttimeEmmastartedtobelievethatherparentsweren’tjustgivingherattitudeand

dramatics.“Waitaminute,”shesaidquietly.“Justslowdown.Nooneevertoldmeanyofthisbefore
—”

“Wedidn’tthinkwehadto,honey.BecauseonceyoustartedseeingReed,webothcouldseethat

relationshipwasbecomingserious.Ifyoujustgothroughwiththewedding,everythingwillbefine.I
knowyouhadn’tsetafirmdate,butitwasalwaysgoingtobeattheendofJulyorearlyAugust.
Definitelybeforeyourthirtiethbirthday.Soallyouhavetodoisfollowthrough—”

“Whoa.Justholdon.”Emmastoodup,stilltryingtograspthis.

She’dbeenateenagerwhenhergrandmotherdied,andthatwasthefirstshe’dbeentoldaboutthe

trust—andtheconsiderablesizeofthetrust.Thatsecurityhadaffectedeverychoiceshe’dmadeasan
adult.“Grandmadidn’tknowIdidn’tplantomarry.Iwasjustakid—”

“Butyoualwaystalkedthatway,Emma.Theonlytimeitwasdifferentwaswhenyouwerewiththe

Keatingboy.Butasachild—andafteryouandGarrettsplitup—youalwayssangthesametune.
Aboutnotwantingtomarry.Notneedingtomarry.Andyourgrandmother—”

Emmaheardthatout.“Allright—butifthetrustdoesn’tgotome,whodoesitgoto?”

“Yourgrandmothermadealistofcharitiesandcauses,ifyoufailedtomarry.It’salllegal.Of

course,youcouldfightit,buttheattorneystoldusfranklythatyou’dhavenolegalground—”

“There’snothingI’dwanttofight,”Emmasaidquietly.“Ifthat’swhatmygrandmotherwanted,it

wouldseemshemadeherchoices.”

“Don’tberidiculous,Emma,”herfathersaidheavily.“JustcallReed.Whateverriftyouhad,I’m

sureit’smendable.You’rebothreasonablepeople,hardlychildrenanymore.Everyonehas
arguments.Ican’timagineeitherofyoudoingsomethingthatwasn’tredeemable.”

Herdad’svoiceseemedtofade,asifheweretalkingfromadistance.Shesawhislipsmoving,saw

hermother ’slipsmoving.

Theywerebothtalkingtoheratthesametime,quicklyandurgently.

Emmahadthesuddenfoolishfeelingthatsomeonehadjustsmackedherupsidethehead.Noone

had,notphysically.Buttheshockofitallfinallysankin.

Ifshedidn’tmarrybeforeherthirtiethbirthday,she’dloseeverything.Color.Sheknewhowmuch

moneysheowedonthegallery,knewitstillwasn’tpayingforitself—notthewayshe’dchosentorun
it.Allthistime,she’dthoughtshecouldindulgeherbeliefthatthegallerywasforthecommunity’s
benefitinsteadofforchasingaprofit.She’dwantedtoexposeEastwicktonewartistsandnewideas,
toallkindsofartandbeauty,evenifthosechoicesdidn’tpayherbackfinancially.Shecouldhaverun
thegallerydifferently,butshe’dbeensopositiveshehadthatmassivetrustfundcomingtosupportit
andherself.

Andallthistimeshe’dhappilyvolunteeredwithtroubledteenagersthroughEastwickCaresandthe

littlekidsthroughthegriefcenter.Becauseofherfinancialsecurity,she’dbeenabletogivehertime
withoutworryingaboutgettingpaid.

Herclothes,herjewelry,theskiingweekinVailandrentingayachtinItaly…forsure,she’dlived

indulgently.Butthere’dneverbeenareasontobudget.Ortolearnhowtobudget.Ifshehadn’tlived
sodarnextravagantly,maybeshe’dhavethemoneysockedawaytosavehergalleryandeverything
else.Butshedidn’t.Becauseshe’dneverthoughtsheneededto.

Sheliftedahandinagestureaskingherparentstostoptalking.Shecouldn’thearthemanyway.She

couldn’tseemtohearanythingrightnow,exceptforthethuddingdruminthepitofherstomach.“I

needsometimetothinkaboutthis,”shesaid.“I’mgoingtogoupstairsnow.”

Shedidn’twaitforthemtoagreeornot,justlefttheroom.Untilshereachedthebottomofthe

stairs,shewasn’tawareherfatherhadfollowedher.Davidtouchedhershouldertomakeherturn
around.

“Emma,”hesaidquietly,“Ijustdon’tunderstandhowyoucouldbesoselfish.”

“Selfish?”Theaccusationconfusedher,whenshewastheonewho’djusthadherwholelifethrown

inthewind.Butofcourse,thatwasn’tcompletelytrue.“Dad,Irealizethatcallingtheweddingoffis
upsettingforyouandMom.Butthemarriagewouldhavebeenaterriblemistake.Neitherofuswas
goingtobehappy.”

“Maybeyoubelievethat.Butifyoucan’tbehappywithagoodman,maybeyoudamnwellbetter

redefinehappiness.Noonegetseverythingtheywantinlife.”

Hesoundedmorelikeanarmycommanderthanafather.Butthen,healwayshad.Andasalways,

shecouldfeelherstomachknottingup.“Ineverthoughtthat,”shesaidquietlyandtriedtoturnaway
—butherfatherwasn’tthrough.

“We’vesupportedyouineverythingyoueverwanted.Youreducation.Yourartgallery.Haveyou

everaskedmeforanythingIdidn’twillinglygiveyou?Andyourmother.Wereyoueventhinkingof
her?Markmywords,Emma.Ifyourmothergoesonanotherbinge,it’llbeonyou.”

Thistimeitwasherfatherwhowhippedaroundandstrodeawayfromher.

Forthesecondtimeintwodaysshefoundhernervesjitteryandherheadpounding.Sheclimbed

thestairs,hopingthatifshejustsatalone,she’dgetabettergrip….Agoodtheory,butitdidn’twork
worthbeans.

Hersuiteofroomswasdecoratedinapricotandtaupe.Severalyearsbefore,hermotherhad

surprisedherbyredoingtherooms.Thefurnishingswereelegantandexpensiveandthoughtfully
chosen.Theyjustweren’tcolorsorfurniturethatEmmawouldeverhavechosen.Yetshe’dnever
objected,becausewhoknewwhatwasgoingtosendhermomclimbingbackintoabottle.

Emmasankonthedoublebed,feelingdisoriented…andunaccountablyangry.Allherlifeshe’d

beenthepeacemakerinthefamily.Allherlifeshe’dtriednevertorocktheboat,especiallybecause
thethreatofcausinghermothertodrinkwasever-present.Shewasonthefund-raisingcommitteeat
theclubbecausehermotherwantedaDearborndoingthatprestigiousjob.She’dnevermoved
completelyoutofthehousebecausehermotherclaimedtoneedher,claimedshecouldn’tbearupto
David’scritical,judgmentalattitude.HerfathercountedonhertobehostessforalltheDearborn
socialeventsbecausetheywerebothwaryofanypressureputonDiana.

Emmaclosedhereyes,feelingthethickhumidairdriftingfromthewestwindow.Thefrightening

partwasthatthethreatswerealwaystrue.AhundredtimesEmmahadtoldherselfthatherparents
neededtoresolvetheirproblemsbetweenthemselves.Butthesamethinghappenedoverandover—
whenEmmafailedtostepin,didn’tintervenewhenhermotherneededhelporplaydiplomatbetween

herparents,hermomdidtumbledownthealcoholichillagain.

InthelasttwodaysEmmahadtriedtodothewildthingandchangeroles.Takechargeofherlife.

Standupforherself.Redefinewhatwasimportanttoher.

Theresultseemedtobeacompleteshambles.Thelatest—thelossofhertrustfund—keptslapping

inhermindlikeminishockwaves.Itwasn’twealththatmatteredtoher,butthetrustfundhad
representedsecurity.Independence.Freedom.

Nowsheopenedhereyes,lookedaroundthepaleapricotwallsandfeltthemclosinginonher.

Thismorningshe’ddiscoveredthewonder,thejoyofbeingwildlyinlove.Butnowthosemoments

withGarrettseemedasifthey’dtakenplaceonanotherplanet.Claustrophobiaseemedtolocktheair
outofherlungs.Shefeltsotrappedshecouldhardlybreathe.Shesqueezedhereyesclosed,tryingto
getagrip.Herworldhadjustbeencompletelytippedonitsaxis,sonaturallyshefeltthrown.Only
thiswasmorethanthrown.

Shehadnoideawhattodonext.

Sheonlyknewthatshefeltcompletelyalone.Andlost.

BeforeturninginthedrivewayoftheBaldwinmansion,Garrettstoppedattheroadsideandused

hiscellphonetocallEmma.

Thefirsttwotimeshe’dcalled,he’dgottenJoshatColor.Joshhadpromisedtoleaveamessage

forEmmaonherdesk,buthedidn’tknowherschedule.Nothingoddaboutthat.Emmawasabusy
woman.ButthiswasthethirdtimeGarretthadbeenunabletoreachher.

Hetoldhimselfitwasidiotictoworry.Itwasjustthatthismorning…Hell,hewasstillhighfrom

lastnightandthismorning.Obviouslymakinglovewithawomanrightaftershe’dbrokenan
engagementwasterribletiming.Buthe’dneverbeforefelteuphorialikethis.Aconnectionlikethis.
Akite-high,heart-soaringthrillofafeelinglikethis.

Foralongtimehe’dbelievedthatselfish,drivenworkaholicslikehimselfweredoomedtobe

single.Whatwomanwouldwantthem?Theywereannoyingpersonalities.

Butdamn,shehadn’tmadehimfeelannoying.She’dmadehimfeellikethemostpowerful,sexy

loverintheuniverse—pastandpresent.Andno,hehadn’tgoneplumboffthedeependandassumed
shewasreadytomarryhim.

Butinhisgut,thatwasonhismind.TheMword.He’dneverwanteditbefore,neverfelttheneed

orpush.Butsuddenlyhecouldn’tgetthathopeoutofhishead,andEmmawasthedifference.Emma
was…

Stopthis,hementallyorderedhimself.Hepocketedhiscellphone,climbedoutofthecarand

strodeuptothefrontdoorofBunnyBaldwin’smansion.Hedidn’twanttostopthinkingaboutEmma,
buthestillhadmilestogothisday.ObsessingaboutEmmawasn’thelping.Untilhegotthosetasks
done,hecouldn’tseeEmmaanyway.

Heknockedonthedoor,waited.Momentslater,atidygray-hairedwomananswered.“CanIhelp

you?”sheasked.

“You’reEdithCarter?”

“Yes.”

“Mrs.Carter,Idon’tneedtocomein.Irealizeyoudon’tknowme,butIwastoldyouwereBunny

Baldwin’shousekeeperforyears.”Thegentle-eyedwomannodded.“I’mGarrettKeating.”

Immediatelysherelaxed.“Ofcourse.IknowtheKeatingfamily.Foramoment,Iwasafraidyou

wereanotheroneofthosereporters,tryingtodigintomoreofMrs.Baldwin’sprivatelife.”

“No,honestly.IonlystoppedbecauseIhopedtherewasachanceyoumightknowsomethingabout

mysister,CarolineKeating-Spence.She’sbeeninthehospital.I’vebeentryingtoputtogethera
pictureofwhathappenedintheweeksbeforeshegotsosick,andnooneseemstoknowanything.I
heardCarolinewasoftenoverhere—”

Edithnodded,lookingthoughtful.“Yes,shewas.SheandAbby—Mrs.Baldwin’sdaughter—were

friends.ThewholegroupofDebscameoverquiteoften.Bunnylovedhavingthegirlsaround.”

“Didyouhappentohearanythingaboutmysister?Anygossiporbadnews,anythingatall?”

“Yousoundsoworried,Mr.Keating,”shesaidcompassionately.“IwishIhadsomeinformation

foryou.”

“Butyoudon’t?”

Edithhesitated.“Idon’tknowifyouknewmyBunny,butshewasinterestedineverything

happeninginEastwick.Somesaidshewasnosy,butthetruthwasthatshesimplycaredabout
everythingandeveryone.Idon’tknowwhereshegotallhernews,butbyandby,shejustseemedto
knoweveryone’ssecrets.That’showshecametowritetheEastwickSocialDiary.”

“Yes,”Garrettsaid,wishingthishadtodowithhissisterbutnotseeinghow.

“Well,thethingis,nowallthosediariesaremissing.Herdaughter,Abby,thinkstherewas

informationinthosejournalsthatsomeonemighthavekilledhermotherfor.Thepolicearelooking
intoit.There’snoproof.Yet.But…”

Garrettwaited.

“I’mjustsaying,Mr.Keating,thatifthosediarieswouldjustsurface,youmightfindsomething

aboutyoursister…orsomeonerelatedtoyoursister.Somethingthatmightbethesourceofher

problem.BecauseifsomethingwasgoingoninEastwick,Bunnyknewit.”

“Butrightnowyoudon’tknowwherethosediariesare.”

Edithshookherhead.“I’msorry.Noonedoes.”

Oncewarmedup,Edithwentonandon.She’dobviouslydeeplycaredaboutheremployerand

neededtotellsomeonehowtraumatizedshe’dbeenbyBunny’sdeath.ApparentlyBunnyhadbeen
onlyfifty-two,healthyandfullofenergy.Althoughshe’dlovedgossip,she’dneverbeenvicious.

“Never,Mr.Keating,”Edithvowed.“Yes,shedishedthedirtonthewell-heeled.Butshenevertolda

lie,neverinventedorembellished.Sheonlytoldthetruth.AndpersonallyIthinkshemadeahuge
effortnottohurtanyonewhomighthavebeeninnocent.”

“I’msureshedid,”Garrettagreed,althoughhewasstartingtofeeldesperatethathewasevergoing

toescape.He’dhopedhe’dhearsomething,anything,abouthissisterCaroline,butEdithseemed
fixedonthenightheremployerhaddied.

“Ifoundher,Idid.Stillhaven’tgottenovertheshock,probablyneverwill.Inmyhead,Istillsee

herlyingthere.Iwasrightupstairs,puttingawaylinensintheupstairscloset,whenIsuddenlyheard
thisthud.Asifachairhadbeenknockedover.Thatkindofthud—”

“Iunderstand,”Garrettsaidswiftly.

“Well,thatthudwasmyBunny.Lyingonthefloorinthestudy.Itjustdidn’tmakesense.”Tears

welledinEdith’seyes.

“Itsoundshorrible.”Garretttriedtosoundsympathetic.

“Oh,itwas,itwas.Ican’tgetitoutofmymind.AndI’vestayedoninthehousebecauseAbby

askedmeto.Abby’sherdaughter,ofcourse,IthinkItoldyouthat—”

“Yes,Iknewthat.”

“Well,nooneknowswhat’sgoingtohappentotheBaldwinmansionyet.Soitstillneeds

caretaking.AndrightnowIdon’tthinkanyoneelsewouldwanttoliveherebecauseofwhat
happened.Ihardlydomyself,becauseeverywhereIturn,Irememberherlyinginthestudylikethat.
Shewasmorethananemployer,youknow.Shewasafriend.Afascinatingperson.It’sunbelievable
thatsomeonewouldkillher.Actuallymurderher.Ikeeptryingtoimaginewhatkindofsecretshe
knewthatwasthatbad—”

Heturnedthekeyonhiscarengine,gratefultobefree.YetlisteningtoEdithhadputanedgybeat

inhispulse.He’dneverpersonallyknownBunnyBaldwin,washard-pressedtoinvestinterestina
womanwho’dlivedforgossip.Butthesecretbusinessworriedhim,becausehissisterwasobviously
hidingsomekindofsecretthathadcausedherdepression—andherfeelingofguilt.

He’dcheckedoutEdith,knowingthatwomanwasalongshot,buthewasstartingtogetdamned

desperate.Noinformationseemedtosurfaceabouthissister.HeneededtohelpCaroline,neededto
knowshewassafe,beforehecouldpossiblymovebacktoNewYork.

InsteadheseemedtobegettingmoreandmoreembroiledinEastwick—whichhesworehe’dnever

do.

Halfwaydownthestreet,hepulledofftodialEmmaagain.

Stillnoanswer.Thatdidn’tmeanshewasn’tthere,ofcourse.Shecouldhaveturnedofftheringer,

simplybecauseshehadabusyday.Henowhadagoodideahowbusyshereallywas,howcrowded
herlifewas.

Still,hewantedtohearhervoice.Wantedtotalktoher.

Wantedtoknowshewasokayaftermakinglove.

Wantedtoknowhowhewasgoingtoreactafterhearinghervoiceagain.

Garretttoldhimselfhewasjustfrustratedhehadn’treachedher,notworried.Onewayoranother,

hewasdeterminedtocontacthertoday,though,evenifhehadtotrackherdownallthewayto
Timbuktu.

Moreimmediately,though,seeinghissisterhadtobehisfirstpriority.Carolinewasgettingsprung

fromthehospital—againsthisbetterjudgment.

Hefoundherstillinherhospitalroombutsittingup,alldressedandchompingatthebit.“Yousaid

you’dbeherebythree!”

“Andit’saquarterto.”

“Iknow,Iknow.ButIstartedtoworrythatyouwouldn’tcome.Ijustwanttogohome,Gar.”She

wrappedherarmsaroundhisneckforahugandpromptlystartedcrying.Hellanddoublehell.She
feltskinnierthanareed,andhehateditwhenhissistercried.Healwayswantedtofixtheproblem.
Rightnow.Yesterday.

“Wouldyouquitit?”Aguycouldtalktohissisterthatway.Whenshedidn’timmediatelyquit—

Carolinehadneverlistenedtohim—hepattedherback,overandover.Andover.

Finallyshequitsnufflingandsteppedaway.Hehandedheratissue—sheneverhadone.“Getme

outofhere,”shebeggedhim.

“Iwill.Butyouhavetodothewheelchairthing.”

“That’sstupid.I’mnotsick.”

Butherspiritwassick.Hecouldseethedarknessbehindhereyes,inthenervouswayshemoved,

intheexhaustioninherposture—evenwhenhewaswheelingherdownstairsandbundlingher—and
fivemillionflowers—intothecar.

“Griff’sduehometomorrow,”shetoldhim.

“Iknow.Theparentstoldme,”

“Idon’twanthimtoknow…aboutthesuicideattempt.”

Atleastshewasusingthewordnow.“Caroline,comeon.YousurelyrealizethatMomandDad

alreadytoldhim.Theyhadtogivehimareasontocancelhistripandflyhome.”

“ButIdidn’twanthimtodothat!Andtheyshouldhaveaskedmebeforecallinghim!”

Garrettdidn’ttryarguingwithher.Thesubjectwastoostickytobeginwith.Truthfully,their

parentshadn’taskedGrifftocomehomefortheirdaughter ’ssakesomuchasthey’dhopedGriff
woulddosomethingaboutCarolinetostopallthetalk.GodforbidanyoneinEastwickshould
discoverthatKeatingshadtroublesjustlikeeveryoneelse.

“Thethingis,IwantGrifftohearaboutthisfromme.Beforehehearsitfromstrangersorthe

Eastwickgossipmongers—Waitaminute.Who’sthatwoman?What’sgoingon?”

“Thatwoman,”Garrettsaid,“isGloria.”Astheywalkedthroughhissister ’sfrontdoor,Garrett

bracedfortroubleasheintroducedhissistertothewomanhe’dhired.Gloriawasdressedtolook
likeahousekeeper,butessentiallyGarretthadhiredherassecurityuntilCaroline’shusbandactually
arrivedhomeandtookcharge.

NomatterwhatCarolinesaidorthought,therewasnowayhewasleavingheralone.Notaftera

suicideattempt.Period.AsfarasGarrettwasconcerned,thatwastheendoftheargument—butahalf
hourlater,Carolinewasstillgivinghimgrief.

Bythenhe’dinstalledheronthecouchinthedenwiththeremote,acupofteaandafrantically

lonesomebichonfrisewiththeghastlynameofBubbles.Garrettdisappearedfromsightforafew
minuteswhileCarolineandGloriastartedtalking,givingthemachancetogettoknoweachother.

Ashewanderedaround,herememberedhowmuchhe’dalwayslovedCaro’splace.Shelovedrich,

deepcolors—burgundiesandemeraldsandteals.Shealwayschosefurnitureaguycouldsinkinto,
madethingscomfortable.Heneverhadtokickoffhisshoes,neverhadtofretifhewasgoingtospill
anything.Shewasflexibleinsomanyways,butman,whensheplayedthestubborncard,itwasdamn
hardtobudgeher.

Whenhehadheraloneinthedenagain,thesamefightstartedup—butthistimeGarrettduginhis

heels.“Look,Griff’scominghome,whichmeansyou’reoutoftime,kiddo.It’sgottocomeout,
whateverthehelltroubleyou’rein.Sooutwithit—andthistimeImeanit.I’mnotleavinguntilyou
talk.”

Sheshookherhead,thetearsalreadywellingup.Hercryingmadehimfeellowerthanmud.“Caro.

Thisisstupid.Whatcouldyoupossiblyhavedonetofeelsoguilty?”

Herackedhisbrainforthekindofshamefulthingthatwassobigshecouldn’ttellhim.“A

gamblingaddiction,somethinglikethat?”

“Forheaven’ssake.Ofcoursenot.”

Hefrowned.“Couldyouhavestolensomething—?”

“Oh,forGod’ssake,Garrett.YouknowI’dneverdothat.”Finallyhepesteredherenoughthatshe

cameoutwithit,althoughhertonehadloweredtothemostpainfulofwhispers.“Ihadanaffair.”

Hesankdownontheottomannexttoher,relievedtofinallyhavethesecretoutintheopen.“Okay.

That’slousy.AboutthelastthingI’dexpectyoutodo,knowinghowstronglyyoufeelaboutfidelity.
Butallthesame…Istilldon’tunderstandhowyougetfromamistaketofeelingdriventoasuicide
attempt.”

Hereyesstartedglisteningagain.“BecauseI’minlovewithGriff.Myownhusband.Howcrazyis

that?”

GarrettwishedEmmawerehere.She’dknowhowtohandleaconversationlikethis.Hesureashell

didn’t.AndnowthatCarolinehadturnedonthefaucet,shefinallywillinglyspilledmore.They’dhad
troubleintheirmarriage,whichGarrettalreadyknew.Butthey’dmendedthebreach.Andnowthey
werelikenewlywedsagain.Inlove.Deliriouslyhappy.

“Iwouldnevercheatonhimnow,Garrett.Butatthetime,Ithoughtwewereseparated.Fighting.I

wascertainwewereheadedfordivorcecourt.Itwasstillastupidthingtodo,sleepingwithsomeone
Ibarelyknew,but—”

Garrettdidn’tneedanymoredetails.“Sothiswaswhenyoutwowereseparated—”

“Exactly.ButifGrifffindsout…”Sheshookherhead.“Iknowhowhe’llfeel.Everythingwe’ve

builtbackupwillbedestroyed.We’rebothtryinghard,andit’sworking.Butifthere’satrustissue
likethat,IknowI’lllosehim.”Outpouredthetearsagain.

“Waitaminute,waitaminute,”Garrettsaid.“Whydoesheeverhavetoknow?”

Andthen,finally,camethecruxofthecrisis.“BecauseI’mbeingblackmailed.That’swhyItook

thepills.BecauseIcan’tkeeppaying.AndIcan’tletGriffknow.Sothere’snowayoutofthis,
Garrett.”

Shocklockedhistongue—butonlyforasecond.“Thehellthereisn’t.Who’sblackmailingyou?

Who,Caroline?”

Sheeitherdidn’tknoworshewouldn’tsay.Garrettwantedtofocustotallyontheblackmailerbut

realizeddamnfastthatthatwasn’tanoption.Rightnowhissister ’sfrailmentalstatewasmore
important.

“Caro,”hetriedtotellher,“Griffknowsyou.Heknowsyourbackground.Ourparentswerehardly

rolemodelsforalovingrelationshiporamarriage,now,werethey?IthinkGriffwillunderstand.He

sureashellwon’tlikeit.Butifheknowsyouatall…ifhelovesyouanywayitmatters…it’llbeall
right.”

Sheseemedcalmeddownbeforeheleft.Butbythetimehewaswalkingbacktohiscar,thesunwas

dippinginthewest,ashiverybreezechillingtheair.

Itwastrue,whathe’dsaidtoCaro.Theirparentshadbeenrottenrolemodels.NeitherhenorCaro

hadfeltlovedorprotectedaskids.Theirparentsweredevotedtoeachotheronthesurface,buttheir
valueswerealltangledupwithinfluenceandaffluenceandwhatothersthoughtofthem.Itwasn’tthe
kindofloveGarretthadeverwanted—infact,he’dalwaysassociatedmarriagewithamorepainful
lonelinessthanbeingalone.

Hedidn’tknowthathadchangeduntilcominghome.UntilreunitedwithEmma.Untilbeingwith

Emma,reallybeingwithherlikelastnight.

Throughallthestressesandstrainsoftheday,ahandfulofmaybeskeptwhisperinginhismind.

Maybehecouldbemorethanamoneymakingmachine.Maybehecouldhaveaprivatelife,be
successfulinarelationship,createadifferentkindofmarriage…withtherightwoman.

Itwascrazytohope,butthereitwas.BeingwithEmmahadputtheseedinhismind,hisheart,and

damnedifhecouldstopitfromgrowing.

Theinstanthegotbehindthewheelandstartedtheengine,hedialedhercellphoneagain.This

time,finally,hecaughtupwithher.

Hedidn’twastetimeongreetingsorchitchat.Justsaidswiftly,“ThankGodIfinallyreachedyou.

I’llbethereintenminutes,fifteenmax,Emma.”

Andthenheshotoutofhissister ’sdrivewayandintothenight.

Nine

GarrettturnedthecornertowardColorandfelthisstomachdrop.Althoughitwasn’tthatlateinthe

evening,heassumedthegallerywouldbeclosedandhe’dbeabletocatchEmmaalone.Instead,every
lightintheplaceseemedtobeblazing.

Ashestrodeupthewalk,itwasprettydamnobvioustherewassomekindofmajoreventgoingon.

Whenhepushedopenthefrontdoor,hesufferedanimmediateguypanicattack.

Thegallerylobbywaspackedwithwomen,mostofthemdressedupandexuberantlywaving

aroundwineglasses.Thescentsofheavy,expensiveperfumeswereenoughtochokeaguy.Afewsaid
hello,butmostweretoointentontheirgabfesttopayanyattentiontoanintrudingmale—whichwas
finebyGarrett.

Initiallyhecouldn’tfigureoutwhatthebigto-dowasabout,butoncehethreadedpasttheclutchof

hard-coredrinkersatthewinetable,hecouldseethegallerywashostingsomekindofperfume
display.Atleast,therewereoldperfumebottlesallthroughthefrontparlorandlobby.

Hedebatedescaping—Emmaobviouslyneededhimaroundrightnowlikesheneededaholeinthe

head.Butthiscouldn’tlastforever.Itwasnearlynine,andthegallerynormallyclosedateight.
Besideswhich,Emmahadtobedeadonherfeetafteryesterday’sincrediblylonghours,sohe
figuredshecouldusesomeTLCwhenthisshindigwasfinallyover.

Hestuckhishandsinhispockets,easedasfarawayaspossibleandfeignedinterestintheperfume-

bottledisplays.Afterafewminutes,hedidn’thavetofakeit.

Hejustcheckedoutafew.ArdenBlueGrass,1934.MyonCoeurdeFemme,1928.GabillaLa

Violette,1912.LavinL’Ame,1928.

Thepricetagsmadehimwonderwhyhebotheredwithinvestmentbankingwhenabunchofold

bottleswereworthsomuch.Asfarasartwent,helikedfingerpaintingmore—butclearlythat
opinionwasintheminorityinthiscrowd.Heambledfarther,justlookingandpokingaround,untilhe
finallyspottedEmma.

Damn,butasinglelookandhisthroatwentwhiskey-dry.

Howshecouldstillbeonherfeetandlookingthisgoodconfoundedhim,butshewasatenderfeast

forhiseyes.Sheworealongskirt,somefabricwithasheen,claretincolorwithsomegold-threaded
designneartheankles.Hedidn’tnormallynoticestufflikethat,butsomehowwithher,hefound
himselfnoticingeverything,becauseeverydetailwassomuchapartofher.Thewhiteblousewas
simple,billowy,openatthethroattoshowoffatriplestrandofpinkpearls.She’dleftherhairloose,
justbrusheditbackwithapearledclipononeside.She’dsmudgedalittlesatinystuffaroundher
eyes,usedaripeplumcoloronhermouth.Ifshewasgoingforapeasanteffect,itsurefailed.Shenot
onlylookedbeautifulandstrikingbutalsoeleganttothebone.

Inthefewminuteshe’dwanderedaround,he’dfiguredoutsomethings.Notjustthatoldperfume

bottlessoldwell.ButalsothatthecrowdwasbuzzinglessabouttheeventthanaboutReed.

Sothevultureshadcometopeckaboutthebrokenengagement—atleastwhenEmmawasoutof

sight.Thenexttimesheambledthroughthelobby,shespottedhimimmediately.

Thelookinhereyesputahushinhispulse.Shesurgedtowardhimasifthrilledtoseehim…but

thenhesawherswallowandnoticedherposturetensewithanxiety.

Somethingwaswrong.Verywrong.Butbeforetheycouldconnect,shewasdistractedbyJosh,who

wasapparentlyleavingforthenight.Andthenaphonecallsnaggedherattention.Onewayor
another,itseemedasifeveryonewantedapieceofher.

He’dbeeninsuchahotrushtotellheraboutCaroline.Stillwas.Stillwantedherperspectiveonthe

wholeblackmailermysteryassoonashecouldgetit.

He’dbeeninanevenhotterrushjusttoseeher.Totouchher.Tofindoutiflastnighthadbeenas

powerful—andterrifying—forherasithadbeenforhim.

Butittookanothertwentyminutesbeforeshe’dmanagedtoshoothelastEastwickmatrondownthe

frontsteps.Bythen,he’dhadmoretimetostudyher,moretimetoseethestrainonherfaceandto
catchthetrembleinherfingers.Emmawasn’tjusttired.Shewashidingitwell,butclearlyshewas
stressed,onlyfunctioningbecauseshewastoostubborntocrash.Itwasn’thardtoguessthatthe
breakupwithReedhadspreadthroughthetownfasterthanantsatapicnic.Sheprobablyhadn’thadan
instant’speaceallday.

Thegalleryechoedwithanoddsenseofstillness.Garrettfelthissmilehesitate,anuneasiness

pluckhisheartbeat.Shejustlookedathimwhenshelockedthedoor.Hesawherhungertoseehim…
buthealsosawevenmoreanxietyinherface.

Itwasokay,hewantedtotellher.He’dhelpherweatherthegossipaboutherex.Butrightthenshe

seemedstrungtootighttotalk.Asfarashecouldtell,shedidn’tneedmorestressorseriousness
rightnow.Shejustplainneededabreak.Sohekeptitlight.

“Ihaven’tbeenthisscaredinalongtime,”hesaidwryly.“Ithoughttheyweregoingtoriotovera

fewofthosebottles.Ifyoumentionedyouhadabigeventgoingontonight,itreallyslippedmy
mind.”

“Ididn’tmentionitbecauseitwasn’tsupposedtobeabigevent.There’sahard-coreperfume-

bottle-collectorcrowdinEastwick,soIjustdothiseveryfewmonths.Tobehonest,I’dallbut
forgottenitwasscheduledbecausenormallyitdoesn’ttakemuchtoprepareforit.”

“Ah.Theyjustwantedtodrinkyourwineandgetalookatyoubecauseofthebroken

engagement?”

“Don’tfeeltoosorryforme.Oneofthosebottlessoldfortwohundredandseventy-fivethousand

dollars.Itwasaconsignmentdeal,butstill.I’llgetmycut.”

“DidIhearyouright?Oneofthoseold,usedbottlesactuallywentfor275K?”

Whenshenodded,hemimickedamansufferingfromshockandgaspingforair.Thoughshe

obviouslywasnotinalaughingmood,herlipstippedandahelplesschuckleemerged.Finallythat
terriblestiffnesseasedinhershoulders.

“Oh,Garrett,darnit,I’veneededtotalktoyouallday,butit’sbeenonethingafteranother.WhenI

finallygotafreeminutethisafternoon,thisgalleryeventexplodedonme.ButIhavesomethingI
absolutelyneedtotellyou—”

“AndIwanttohearit.Butnothere,Emma.”Hetriedtosteerhertowardthedoor,butshebalked.

“What’swrongwithhere?”

“Nothing,normally.Butrightnowyourwholegallerysmellslikeaperfumefactory.Infact,Ithink

theperfume’sdestroyedalltheoxygenintheentirecounty.”

Shechuckledagainbutstillwouldn’tbudge.“It’snotthatIdon’twanttodisappearwithyou—butI

can’tleavethismess.”

Ofcourseshecouldn’t,hethought.Shecouldhardlyopenthegalleryinthemorningwith

wineglassesandbottlesallovertheplace.

Garrettrealized,nottoocomfortably,thathewascompletelyunusedtothinkingofotherpeople,

theirneeds,theirlifedetails.

Buthewantedtochangethat.Whileshegatheredandlockedupallthefragilebottles,heheadedfor

thekitchen.Tacklingthedirtyglassesandpartydebriswaseasyenough.He’dneverlikedKP—who
did?—buthefoundhimselfwhistlingashethreadedtheglassesinthedishwasher.

Helpingherfeltnatural.Evenmoreshockingwasdiscoveringthatbeinghimselfwithherfelt

natural.Who’dhavebelievedit?ThatEmmaseemedtojustlikebeingwithhim.Thatfingerpainting
withherasifhewerealittlekidhadactuallybeenfun.Andsex,ofcourse,hadbeenbeyondgreat…
butcomingalivewithheralsoneverhadtheperformanceissuesthatsexandlifealwaysdid.
Somehow,herealized,hejustfeltrightwithher.

Sheshowedupinthekitchenandgrabbedadishtowel.

“Maybeit’sassimpleastrust,”hemused.

“Huh?”

“It’sameanerworldthanitusedtobe.Noteasytotrust.Noteasytofindotherpeoplewithintegrity.

AndIadmit,it’sprobablyalwaysbeenharderformetotakeachance.”

“Okay,”shesaidpatiently,“you’veobviouslybeensamplingthewinewhileyouhandledthe

glasses—”

Hekissedheronthenose,teasedthedishtoweloutofherhandandthistimeseriouslywhiskedher

towardthedoor.Thecleanupwasninety-ninepercentdone.Enough.“You,cookie,havehadmore
thanyourshareofnonstoprunningtoday.Let’sgetyouawayfromthegalleryandphonesandseeif
wecanfindsomefoodtoshovelintoyou,okay?”

“Cookie?”

“Iknow,Iknow.Ican’timaginewhyIcalledyoucookie,either.Imustbeoutofmyhead.Infact,I

knowIam.Ithinkoveryou.”Hesaiditlightly,soasnottoscarethecompletehelloutofher.And
althoughsheshothimastartledlook,bythenhewasswitchingoffthelastofthelights,swingingthe
doorclosedandthenhookinganarmoverhershoulder—becausethenightairwascolderthanawell
digger ’sankle.

“Youlookgorgeous,”hesaid.

“Okay.Nomorewineforyou.Maybeever.”

Itfeltgood.Morethangood.Gettinghersmiling,laughing,easingup.Andshewaswaytoo

whippedtogivehimmuchtroublebythen.Heeasilybossedheraroundathisplace,gotherinstalled
onthecouchwithapillowbehindherback.Withinminutes,he’dhandedherafancysandwichheaped
withcheeseandfreshtomatoesandcoldcuts,allspillingoutthesidesandmakingherchuckleagain.
Theglass,thepillow,theplatethesandwichwasonwereallhers—thingsshe’dbroughtovertomake
thisrentalplacelivable.

Butshewastheonewhomadeitlivable.Curleduponthatoldcouch,shebroughtlifeandemotion

totheplace.Still,everyfewminutesshekeptrememberingtherefraintoherearliersong,andthen
hergoodhumorwoulddieagain.

“Garrett…Ireallydoneedtotellyousomething.”

“Iknowyoudo.Youkeepsaying.AndIwanttohear.Butfirstexplaintomehoworwhyanyone

wouldpaysomuchforabunchofusedperfumebottles.”Beforehesettleddownwithher,heturned
offthephone,thefax,alltheelectronicsthatheusuallykepton24-7.

“I’mnotsureIcanexplain.Perfumebottlecollectingiskindofauniqueaddiction,butifyou’renot

intoit—”

“Trustme.I’mnot.Andlikelywon’tbe.”

Shechuckledagain.“Poorbaby.Thosewomenreallyscaredyou,didn’tthey?Youneversaw

womeninashoppingfrenzybefore?”

Attheendofthecouch,hepulledoffoneofhersandals.Thentheother.“Notthatclosebefore.”He

shuddered.“Iwouldn’twanttogetbetweenoneofthosewomenandthebottlestheywanted.”

“It’salostworldnow,buttherewasatimewhenperfumeshadartistshandmakebottlesfortheir

product.Onceperfumersstartedusingplastic-tippedstoppers,thebottleswereneverthesame.But

beforethat,thereallygreatperfumesallhadbottlesthatwerehanddesigned,trulyworksofart—”
Sheseemedtohearherselftalking—ormaybeshesuddenlyrealizedhewasrunninghishandsupand
downthesolesofherbarefeet.Herthroatsuddenlyflushedwithawareness,arousal.Hereyesducked
fromhis,andsheswiftlyswungherlegsoverthesideofthecouchandstoodup.

“Iknowwhatyou’rethinking—”shebegan.

“Whatgaveitaway?IwastryingmydamnedesttomakeyoubelieveIwasfascinatedaboutthe

bottles.”

Butthistimeshedidn’tsmile.“Garrett…Ireallyneedtogetsomethingoffmychest.”

Thehellshedid.She’dhadenoughstressandcrapoverthelasttwenty-fourhourstolastalifetime.

Andallhehadtodowasgentlytugherhandsandshepromptlyfoldedintohisarms.Shewasn’tthat
small,butbarefootnow,shehadtotiltherheadbacktogetkissed.Atleasttogetkissedtherightway
—wherehetookhermouthandkeptit.Possessedit.Seducedit.Untilhisheadwasreelingandshe
wasbreathless.

Whenheletherupforair,herluminouseyesmethisandshestartedtospeak…ortriedto.

Sohehadtokissheragain,muchmoreseriously.

He’dbeenwithoutherallday.Toolong.Athirty-five-year-oldmanshouldhavehadyearsof

experiencewithwomentolearnself-control,buthedidn’t.Hehadmoreself-controlthananytwenty
menhe’devermet.Butnottheexperiencewithwomen.

Atleastnotwithwomenhetrusteddowndeep.Maybeheshouldhaverealizedhowmuchshe

matteredwhentheywereteenagers…butfordamnsure,heknewhowmuchshemeanttohimnow.
Hisheadspunashekissedandkissedandkissedheryetagain.Hetookacherishingnipfromher
neck.Thenherearlobe.Thenindulgedinalong,slow,tongue-stealingkiss,afterwhichhetastedthe
exquisitelysoftlengthofherthroat.

Hell,ifshehadn’tmadeafiercegroaningsoundofsurrender,heprobablycouldhave

experimentedwithathousandmorekissesjustonherfaceandneckalone.

ExploringEmmawasthemostfascinatingjobhe’devercomeacross…althoughGarrett

discoveredthatundoingEmmawasanevenmoreconsumingoccupation.

Thepearlclipinherhairhadtobejettisonedfirst,becauseheneededtobeabletofreelyrunhis

handsthroughherthick,lustroushair.Thebettertoholdher.Thebettertokissherthoroughly.The
bettertoexplorethesensationofherhairslidingthroughhisfingers.

Assoftasthetextureofhersilkyblousewas,herskinbeneathitwasathousandtimessofter.He

sufferedtheshockofdiscoveringthewickedwomanwaswearingnobrabeneathit.Imagine.His
elegantnever-break-a-ruleEmmafailingtowearabra,andforthathedidhisbesttorewardher.

Sheseemedtoappreciatehistribute,becausethetipshardenedandthesoftwhitefleshswelledand

tightenedunderthecupofhislips,underthewashofhistongue,underthecaressofhispalm.She
suckedinbreathafterbreath.Herhandsbythenwerebusy,too,pullingatanyclothesshecouldreach,
athisshirt,thebuttons.

Heavenknew,hewantedhisclothesoff,too,preferablyfasterthanyesterday,buthewas

determinedtoholdontosomecontrol.Hehadn’tevengottenherintothebedroomyet.Thesoft
mattress,thedarkness,wasonlyaroomaway.

She’dhadatraumaticday,andherexstillhadtobeonhermind.Beforemakinglove,hedidn’t

wantanythingonhermind—buthim.Andthem.Andwhattheybroughteachother.

Notthataguycouldn’tteasehisladybeforegoingfortheendrun.Heslippedtheblouseoffher,

whoosheditontoachair,carefullyunclippedeachearring,kissingeachearatthesametime,then
strippedoffherringsandwristbangles.Thosetookmorekisses,moretime.Sheseemedimpatientas
ifshewantedhimtorush.

Shemadehimrush,allright.Thebloodseemedtobeshootinginhisveins,startingwithhishead,

aimingstraightbelowhisbelt.Somethingwasweirdaboutherskirt.Nosnap.Nobutton.Finallyhe
gotit,thattheskirthadsometypeoffancyclasp—trickyandconfusingforbighandstofigureout,so
itwasadamngoodthinghewasinspired.

Thelongclaretskirtfellinaswishtoherbarefeet.

Thentheonlythingsheworewerewhiteunderpants—atleasthethoughttheteensyscrapoflace

wasunderpants.And,ofcourse,thetriplestrandofpinkpearlstryingtohidebetweenherbreasts.

Thelacewentfirst.Butthatwasasgoodashewascapableofbeing.Hispatienceandcontrolhad

beentootested.

Thepearlswerecomingtobedwiththem.

Herarmswoundtightaroundhisneckwhenheliftedher.Hermouthhadlatchedontohisand

refusedtoletgo.Hecouldn’texactlysee.Notthathedidn’tknowwherethebedwas.Notthathehad
anyintentionofdroppingher.

Notthathegaveadamnwhetherhecouldseeornot.

Hecouldfeel.Her.Feeltheweightofher,thetexturesofher.Thebeautyofher.Smellherhair,her

skin;tasteherbreath,hermouth,herthroat.

Heloweredheronthebed,thenannoyinglyrealizedhewasstillwearingpants—andpartofhis

shirt.Heshuckedboth,thencamebacktoher.Finallytherewasnothingbetweenthembutpearls.Bare
skinrubbedagainstbareskin,hiserectioninspiredtomakeherfeelappreciated.Shekeptmaking
thesesounds,thesesoft,softsoundsofyielding,ofyearning,ofsurrender.

Maybeshewantedtodrivehimmad.Maybeshecould.Maybeshealreadyhad.

Shegavesowillingly.Thatwaswhatgottohimthemost.Sheopenedherarms,herlegs,hertrust

forhim.Asself-containedashe’dalwaysbeen,Emmahadheldherselftighteryet—andneededto.
He’dlearnedtoughness.Shehadn’t.Hecoulddocold.Nother.

Atleastnotnow,withhim.Shewrappedherlegssnugandhigharoundhim,pullinghimintoher,

herpalmsandfingersglidingalloverhim,arms,shoulders,back,wooinghimdeeperintoher…and
thendeeperyet.Thatsensationofslidingintoherwaslikenoneotherintheuniverse.

Hewantedtostaythere,savoringthesensation,foranotherhundredyears.Atleastforanother

second.Buttheneedtoclaimher,topossessher,wasathousandtimesmorepowerful.Garrettcould
haveswornhedidn’thaveasinglecavemanurge…butitseemedhedid.Theneedtomakeherhis
woman,toownheratthatinstant,wasmorecompellingthananyneedforairorwater.Nothingelse
woulddobuthavingher.Then.Rightthen.Fastandhard.

“Love,”shewhisperedhelplessly.

“Ido.Loveyou,”hewhisperedback.

“Loveyou.Loveyou,”shewhispered,anddamnation,butthatdestroyedhislastdropofcontrol.

Theybothrodethatwave,high,fast,sweat-and-heatfast,silver-fast,climbinguntilbothofthemhit
themountainpeakatthesametime.Thenspilledover.

Hecameandcameandcame,asifhehadn’thadanorgasminyears,asifhehadsomefierce

primalneedtofillherupwithhisseed,hislife.Shecalledoutandthencalledoutagain,untilthey
bothfinallysankagainstthepillows,whippedandbreathingroughandhard.

Shelaughedsuddenly,softly,asifshecouldn’tbelievethewild,wickedridethey’djustbeen

throughtogether.Sodidhe,kissingherdampforehead,lovingthefeelingofherinhisarms.

Forafewminuteshewastoobeattomove…notthathewantedto.Buteventuallyherealizedthat

herskinwascoolingandheshifteduponanelbowjusttountangletheblanketandspreaditover
them.Shedidn’tbudgebeyondsnugglinghercheekmoreintentlyintohisshoulder.

Hehadtosmileagain.

She’dalreadyfallenasleep.Hestronglysuspectedthatshe’dsleeplongandhardifhecouldensure

shewasn’tinterrupted.

Ascrazyasitsounded,hefeltasifhislifestartedatthisprecisemoment.Makinglovethenight

beforehadbeenextraordinaryandwonderful…butjustnowshe’dbecomehiswoman.Reallyhis.In
spiteofimpossibleodds,he’dfoundtheonewoman,theonlyone,who’devermadehimbelievein
love.

Godknowsthereweretroublesahead.Hissister.Thecrazinessofhiswork,tryingtoliveintwo

placesrightnow,notbeingsettled.Andthentherewerehisfaults—theworkaholicthing.Theself-
centered,too-focusedthing.Theterrorthathewouldn’tknowhowtolovehertherightway,thathe’d
learnedonlywrongthingsfromhisparents,hislife.

Butdamn,therewastimetosweatallofthat,andtonightwasn’tit.

Rightnowhehadherinhisarms.Allhewanted.Allthatcouldpossiblymatter.

Ten

Emmakepthavingthestrangestdream—sheknewithadtobeadreambecauseshewasnaked

exceptforastringofpearls.

Thedreamwastheoppositeofanightmare.Shewaswalkingoutofanuglytunnel—adarkplace

wheresheknewshe’dbeentrappedandanxiousandneverabletoseesunlight.Yetinthedream,the
answerwassosimple.Shefollowedthepathoutofthetunnelintoanotherworld,abeautifulworld,
whereaspensshiveredinthewind,revealingleavesofrealgold.Thesunbatheddownwarmthbut
wasneversohotastoburn.

Shefeltstrongandhappyandloved….

Andthenshesuddenlyopenedhereyes.Garretthadpulledachairnexttothebed,wassittingthere

withamugbetweenhishands,staringintentlyather.“Hey,beauty,”hemurmured.“Iwasstartingto
worry.”

“Worry?”sheaskedgroggily.

“I’vetalkedtoLondontwice.Parisonce.Switzerlandthreetimes.Handledoverfourmillionin

securitiesandinvestments.Hadbreakfast—”

“Goodgrief.Whattimeisit?”

“Takeiteasy.”Aroyalfingerorderedherheadbackdowntothepillow.“It’sonlyeighto’clock.”

“Howcoulditonlybeeight,if—”

“Nobigsweat.Allthoseplacesareonatimezonethatworksearlyinthemorninghere.IfIneedto

callTokyo,it’sawholedifferentstory.”

Thatwasinterestinginformation,shethought.Evenfascinating.Butthecrazythingwasshehoped

he’dkeeponchitchatting.Justlikethis.Foranotherfewtimezonesortwo.Wakinguptohimwas
evenbetterthanthedream.Howcornywasthat?

“NotethatIdidn’tclimbbackintobedwithyou,”Garrettsaid.“ForwhichIthinkyoushouldgive

meatleastseventy-fivebrowniepoints.”

“Because?”

“BecauseIknewyouwereexhausted.Infact,youweresleepingsodeeplythatIkeptcheckingto

makesureyourheartwasstillbeating.”

“That’sthemostcreativeexcuseI’veheardforfeelingagirlup.”

Henoddedsolemnly.“It’sthebestIcouldcomeupwithonamoment’snotice.Butifitwereupto

me,I’dstandguardsoyoucouldsleepallday.Thiskindoftiredisn’tfair,cookie.You’vebeen
carryingtooheavyaload.ButIwasn’tsureifIcouldletyousleepmuchlonger,becauseIdidn’thave
anyideawhatcommitmentsyouhadtodayorwhentheystarted.”

Sheclosedhereyes.“I’vegotaprojectI’minvolvedwithforLilyCartwrightthisafternoon.You

knowLily,don’tyou?ShemarriedJackCartwright,partnerinthatbiglawfirm?AndsinceLily’s
pregnantnow—”Acupofteaseemedtohavemadeitswayintoherhands.Shetookasip,foundit
hot,strong,sweet.Perfect.“She’sbeenfarmingoutprojectswhenevershecanfinda—”

“Sucker.”

“Exactly.Anyway,she’sgotagroupoftroubledkids.Teenagersaboutagethirteenandfourteen.

Notintroublewiththelawyetbutaimingthere—truants,cuttingclass,thatkindofthing.”

“Don’ttellmeyoufingerpaintwiththem,”heteased.

“No.I’mdoingawallwiththem.Amural.Free-form.Notartexactlybutusingcolorsandshapes

thatworkforthem.It’stheirtherapyroom,sothey’recreatingthewholething,fromfloorto
ceiling.”

“Soyougettoworkwithahandfulofornery,belligerent,smart-moutheddefiantteenagersfor—”

Abowlofdewy-freshraspberrieslightlysprinkledwithsugarappearedonherlap.“Acouple

hoursaweek.ButLilyneedsthehelp.Andtheyloveit,Garrett.HowcouldIsayno?”

“Youframeyourmouthlikethis.”Hedemonstrated.“It’sjustaone-syllableword.Youusedtobe

greatatsayingit.Especiallytome.”

Shehadtolaugh.“Thatwasadifferentissue,youdevil.Thekidsaregreattome.They’reno

troubleatall.”

“Ididn’twanttobetroubleforyouwhenwewereteenagerseither.Ijustwantedtogetinyour

pants.”

“Well,sheesh.Thelastcoupledays,I’veletyoudoanythingyouwanted.Youjusthadtowaita

coupleofyearsbeforeIchangedmyvote.”Sheaddedthoughtfully,“Cometothinkofit,Iwasstuck
waitingacoupleofyears,too.”

“Sowhatdoyouthink?Wasthewaitworthit?”

“Itwasmore—more—thanworthit,Mr.Keating.Infact,ifyou’llclimbbackunderthesheetswith

meforacoupleofminutes,Ijustmightshowyouhowworthititwas.ImightevenshowyouwhatI
candowithafreshraspberry.”

“MyGod.Youaretrouble.”Hetookthetea,stasheditonthetableandthendivedforher.

Raspberriesspilledeverywhere.Thebowltippedonthecarpet.Hisarmswentaroundherandhe

kissedher,windingherontopofhim,thenbeneath.Asifallthatteasinghadbeenlotsoffun…butnot
halfasmuchfunastherealityoftouchingher.

Emmahadn’trealizedanyofthosetruthsbefore.Suchaswhenamanneededtotouchhiswoman,

therestoftheworlddidn’tneedtoexist.

Andwhenawomanneededtotouchherman,itwasexactlythesame.

Theytussledandrompedandplayed,untilthefrictionandheatunderthesheetscauseda

spontaneouscombustion.

He’dseducedherwithinfinitepatienceandsensualityandtendernessthenightbefore,butthis

morningwasahot,wildride.

Poweroutagesshouldhaveoccurredfromtheamountofsizzlingbrightlightningbetweenthem.

Eventuallyshecrashedagainstthepillow,allsweaty,aninsanelybeatificsmileonherface,andhe

crashedonhisback,onearmstillthrashedoverher,asdampasshewas,thesamebeatificsmileon
hisface.

Untilhistelephonerang.

Theybothignoredit.Eventuallyitstoppedringing.Garrettneveractedasthoughhe’devenheard

it,neverstoppedlookingatherforevenamoment.

Butthejanglingsoundslappedherbacktoreality.Forhoursshe’dcompletelyforgottentheshock

andpanicofherrealreality.“Garrett,Ineedtotellyousomethingserious.”

“Okay.”

“Itriedtotellyouyesterday.”

“Iknowyoudid.AndInevermeanttocutyouoff,Em.Ijusthonestlythoughtyouneededsome

rest.You’vehadnonstopstress.”

Hecarvedahandaroundhertempleandcheekbone,smoothingawayherdamphair.“Itwasn’thard

tofigureoutwhatyouweregoingthroughyesterday.IknowEastwick.Thewholetownfoundout
aboutyourbrokenengagementandwasonyourbackalldaytogetthedetails.”

“That’strue.Infact,itwasthereasonIcouldn’tgettimetotalktoyouyesterday.Butthat’snotthe

problemIneedtoshare.”Shetookabreath,intentongatheringherthoughts,buthewenton,asif
believingsheneededsoothingandreassuring.

“Reed’sgoingtobeonyourmindforawhile.Youcareforhim,caredforhim.Thetownisn’t

goingtoletyouforgethisnamerightawayevenifyouwantedto.IpromiseI’mnotgoingtoaddto
thatproblemforyou.”

“Ididn’tthinkyouwould—”

Again,heinterrupted.“Ifwecomeoutpubliclyasapairrightnow,thetownwillthinkyouleft

Reedforme.Iknowhowtheyare,believeme.”Clearlyhe’dworriedaboutthekindofissuesshehad
tolivewithinEastwick.“SoIrealizewe’llhavetobediscreetforawhile.ButIcan’timagineeither
ofuswantingtobeanythingbutdiscreetanyway.”

“That’strue.”Shehadn’teventhoughtthatfarahead.Garrettobviouslyhad.Whensheduckedher

head,though,hisknucklesgentlychuckedupherchinsotheireyesweremeetingagain.

“Emma.I’minlovewithyou.It’sanewfeelingforme.Terrifyingandterrorizing.ButIknowthis

isright.”

Alumpfilledherthroat.Alumpbothofjoyanddread.“Ineverexpectedtofeelanythinglikethis,

either.Itwasgoodwhenwewerekids,Gar.ButnothinglikewhatIfeelforyounow.”

Henodded.“Still,wecantakethisasslowasyouwant.Idon’tknowhowtodothiscourtshipthing.

SoI’llhavetolearn.Iwanttodoitright.Iadmit,I’maslowdeveloper,buthonesttoPete,I’vegota
decentIQ.Soifyou’lljustbepatientandnotfreakoutifIdosomethingwrongnowandthen—”

Shesatup,shookupnow.“Garrett.”

“What?”

“Hush.”

“Okay.”

“Somethinghappenedyesterday.Myparents—Iknewtheywantedtoseeme.Iknewtheywanted

answersaboutwhyI’dbrokentheengagementtoReed,soIwentthere.”Shesighed,thenjustblurted
itout.“IfoundoutI’mgoingtoloseeverything.”

“Losewhat?Whatdoyoumean?”

God.Itwassogoodtotalktosomeonewhowasn’tgoingtoheapjudgmentsonherhead,who

wasn’tsoclosetoEastwicksocietythathe’dbeinfluencedbyanythingbeyond…well,beyondher.
“Allthistime,Garrett,IthoughtIhadatrustfund,setupbymygrandmother,thatI’dinheritwhenI
wasthirty.”

“Okay.”

“It’shefty.Severalmilliondollars.”

“So.That’sgreat.”

“Thethingis,knowingaboutthetrustfundalwaysaffectedhowandwhyIlivethewayIdo.Ilove

mygallery,butIalwayschosewhattodisplay,whattosell,notbasedonaprofitbutonwhatIwanted
togivetothecommunity.ItriedtopickwhatIthoughtwasbeautiful.WhatIthoughtaddedtousall.
Notjustwhatwouldbringmeinthemortgagepayment.”

Garrettdidn’tinterruptherthistime,onlylistened.Butshecaughtthefaintestsmile—not

patronizingbutgentle.Whenhetouchedhercheek,shecouldalmostseetheopinioninhismind—
thatshewasahopelessidealist.Andthathelikedthequalityinher.

“It’snotjustthatgallery.ButallthevolunteerworkIdo.TheprojectsItakeonatthecountryclub

aremoreaboutmyparentsthanme.Likewise,thehostesschoresIdoformydad.ButwhatIdofor
thekids—I’vealwaysvolunteeredalotofhoursbecauseIneverhadtoworryaboutincome,you
know?IalwaysknewIhadthistidylittlefortunecomingin.”

“Prettyobviously,”hesaidquietly,“thatchanged.Somehow.”

Shesatup,noddedvigorously,wishingshecouldshakethelumpfromherthroat.“Whatmy

parentsnevertoldme—untilyesterday—wasthatIhadtobemarriedbytheageofthirtytoinherit
thatmoney.”

“Saywhat?”Thesuddencreaseonhisforeheadregisteredhisconfusion.Hesatup,takingan

immediatelymoreseriousposture.Itstoppedbeingasnuggle-on-the-pillowconversationoncehe
realizedshehadaseriousproblem.

Orthat’swhatshethoughtwashappening.Shesatup,too,reachedforalong-sleevedshirtofhis.

Shedidn’tmindbeingnakedwithhim.Infact,forthefirsttimeinherlifeshefeltfreetobeherselfin
everyway.Butthesubjectwassotroublingthatshecouldfeelaheartchillsettlingin.

Theybothendedupinhistinykitchen.Shecurledupinachairwithafreshmugoftea.Heleaned

againstthecounter,lookingoddlydistant—probablybecausethesunwasbehindhimatthewindow,
andhisfacelookedmoreaustereandshadowed.“Idon’tunderstand.Whywouldyourgrandmother
havesetupthetrustthatway?”

“Itseemsthatmygrandmother—aswellasmyparents—heardmetalkagainstgettingmarried

fromthetimeIwaslittle.Tobehonest,myparent’smarriagewasenoughtoscareanyoneawayfrom
theinstitution.AnditjustseemedsomanymarriagesinEastwickwereaboutmoney.Mergers.
Conglomerations.Bringingbusinessesanddynastiestogether.”Shesweptbackherhairwithafretful
hand.“Ididn’twantthat.”

“Hell,neitherdidI.”

“Anyway…”Shesipped,willingtheteatostartbracingher.Itfeltgoodtogetthisoutintheopen.

TosharetheproblemwithGarrett.Tohavesomeoneshecouldtell.“Ithinktheideawastoblackmail
meintomarriageandkids.”

“Whichisfine—onlyhowwasthatsupposedtoworkifyoudidn’tknowitwasaconditionofthe

trust?”

Somethinginhisvoicecaughtherattention.Somethingoff.Cool.Butwhensheliftedherheadto

studyhim,hisexpressionjustseemed…neutral.Sheassumedshe’dimaginedthatsuddenoddtone.

“Accordingtomyparents,onceIstartedseeingReedacoupleyearsago,theybelievedwe’dendup

married.Theythoughtthey’dneverhavetotellme.”Sheshookherheadattheblackhumorofitall.
“It’ssoironic,becausetheycouldn’twaittotellmeyesterday.TheywantedmetocallReed
immediately.Makeupwithhim.Theywerevery,verypositiveafewmilliondollarswouldmotivate
metodoanythingtogethimback.”

Garrettfellsilent.

Shedidn’tknowwhatsheexpectedhimtosay.Nothing,really.Onlyhissilenceseemedtostretch

outforanoddlengthoftime.Maybeitwasjusttoomuchtotakeinatonetime,shethought.Butthen
heasked,“Whenisyourthirtiethbirthday?”

“Augustthirty-first.”

“SoletmeseeifI’vegotthisright.Ifyou’renotmarriedbeforeAugustthirty-first,youlosethose

millions?”

“Idon’tactuallyknowhowmuchitis.Itwasthreemillionwhenmygrandmotherestablishedthe

trust.Butyouknowhowmoneywellinvestedcanaddup.”Shesqueezedhereyesclosedforaminute.
“I’mhavingthehardesttimejust…graspingit.Notthelossofthemoneysomuch.ButhowI’mnow
facingquiteadisasterbecauseIsototallytookthatinheritanceforgranted.Ineversaved,never
questionedmyfinancialchoices.SpenttoomuchoncarsandclothesandanythingelseIwanted.And
nowit’sashock.Notjusttogiveupmygallerybutnottobeabletodoallthevolunteerworkwith
kids—”

Garrettturnedaround,plunkedhismugdownonthecounterhardenoughtomakeaslapping

sound.“Iguesstheanswertothatiseasyenough.”

“Pardon?”

“Allyouhavetodoismarrybeforeyou’rethirty,right?Reedwasn’trightforyou,butit’snotlike

hewasyouronlychoice.Youhadmehookedbeforeyoukickedhimoutoftherunning.”

“Pardon?”shesaidagain,thistimemoresoftly.

“I’llmarryyou,Emma.Ifyouwantthatmoney,it’syours.Nobigsweat.”

Hisvoicewasascoolasacucumberonahotsummerday.Drippingcool.Tangycool.Whenshe

didn’timmediatelyrespond—atthatpreciseinstant,shecouldn’tgethertonguetoformawordifher
lifehaddependedonit—hesaid,“I’mnoidealistaboutmoney.It’snotprettyorromantictobepoor.
There’snoreasontobeembarrassedaboutwantingtolivewell.Noonethrowsawayafortune,
Emma,it’sstupid.You’dbecrazytothrowawayyourindependence,yoursecurity.Besides,why
wouldyouwanttodothat?”

Fromonesecondtothenext,shefeltasifshe’dagedhalfacentury,becauseshestooduponshaky

kneesandhaltingbalance.“Iwasn’taskingyoutomarryme,”shesaidquietly.

“Iknowthat.Butit’saperfectlyreasonablesolutiontoyourproblem.Godknowswegetalong

betweenthesheets.Alwaysdidhaveaclicktogether—”Hisphonerang.Atthesametime,hisfax
startedexuberantlyfrothingoutwavesofpaper.Hesteppedtowardthephonebutsaidtoherfirst,“No
reasoninhellwecan’tbemarriedbeforeyourbirthday.”

Ashewalkedacrosstheroom,tookhisbusinesscall,foragoodsixtysecondsshefoughtforcalm.

Shefeltasifsomeonehadpunchedherinthestomach.Shecouldn’tseemtorecover.

Sheevenwantedtolaugh.Forthefirsttimeinherentirelifeshereallydidwantamarriage

proposal.ThebiggestdreamherhearteverhadwasaproposalspecificallyfromGarrett.

Butnotlikethis.

Notbecausehethoughtshe’dmarryhimformoney.

Thefunniest,saddestpartofitwasthatEmmahadthought—she’dreally,reallythought—that

Garrettcaredforher.Evenlovedher.Thatheknewher,therealEmma,theEmmasherarelyshowed
toanyone,andthatthatwasthewomanhe’dtakentobed.Andmaybeevenfalleninlovewith.Atleast,
he’dsaidhelovedher.

Butthat,ofcourse,wasunderthecovers.

Nowsheknewbetter.

Hewasstillonthephone,stilltalking—inFrenchshethought,withoutreallyregisteringwhathe

wassaying.Butthen,shewasn’tregisteringwhatshewasdoingeither.Takingstepslikea
sleepwalker,shestrodebarefoottowardthedoor,wearinghisshirt,herhairnotbrushed,herclothes
andshoesstillsomewherearoundhisplace—probablystrewneverywhichway.

Shecouldn’tremembereverdoinganythingimproperinpublic.

Itwasn’tthatshecaredsomuchwhatothersthoughtofherbutthatsheneverwillinglyexposed

herselfthatway.YetshewalkedouthisdooranddownthesidewalktowardColordressedlikethat.
Orundressedlikethat,dependingonone’spointofview.

Rightthen,shedidn’tseemtohaveapointofview.ShejusthadtogetoutofGarrett’spresence

beforethatpunchinthegutcaughtupwithher.Thepainwasgoingtohitgood.Sheknewit.Butshe
didn’twanthimoranyonetoseeit.

AllEmmawantedwastohideoutandlickherwoundsinprivate,butlifejustrefusedtocooperate.

Shecouldn’tletdowntheteenagersfortheafternoonmuralproject.Thegallerystillhadtobeopened
andoperated.Hertelephoneneverstoppedringing,andalthoughshecouldhaveturnedoffthedarn
thing,thatonlyavoidedproblemsratherthansolvedthem.Unlessshefacedpeopleandspoketothem,
peoplecouldwellbelievethatReedwasresponsiblefortheirengagementbreakup—especiallysince
themanhadapparentlydisappearedfromsight—anditwasn’trighthavingpeopleblamehim.Andon
topofallthat,shehadadozenpreweddingplansthatneededimmediatecanceling.

SoshesuckeditupanddidthedayandtriedherhardesttokeephermindoffGarrett.Butbylate

afternoonshe’dhadit.Maybeyoucouldglueacrackedeggshellbacktogethertemporarily,butno
waycouldthatglueholdforever.

“Josh,youcanmantheplaceforacouplehours,can’tyou?IknowJeremiahisn’there,butIneed

todisappearintheworkshopforawhile,getsomethingsreadyfortheJulyshow.”

“Sure,Emma.Youwantmetotelleveryoneyou’regonefortheday?”

BlessJosh.Heneveraskedapersonalquestion.Hejustseemedtowantajobwherepeoplelefthim

aloneaboutbeinggay.Insomanyways,shecouldcountonhimfordiscretion.Ithelpedtobeableto
closethedoorontheshopandfocusoncleaningcanvasesandframesandorganizingdisplay
concepts.

Shewasn’tconcentratingwell,couldn’tpretendto,didn’ttry.

Shejustwantedtofilltheday’shoursanddoherdamnedesttowearherselfout.Barelyfifteen

minutespassedbeforetherewasaknockonthedoor,though,anditwasn’tJosh.

MaryDuvallpokedherheadin.“Youremployeesaidyouwerebusyanddidn’twanttobe

interrupted,Emma.”

“It’sallright.”Itwasn’t,butMarywasalreadyinsidenow.Andanyothertime,she’dhavebeen

gladtoseeheroldfriend.

Maryliftedasatchelofcanvasestoexplainwhyshe’dintruded.“Youtoldmetobringsomework

ifIwanteditinyourshow.EspeciallythatIneededtobringitbeforetheendofJune.SoIwasafraid
ifIdidn’tgetaroundtoshowingyouthese,itmightbetoolateforyoutoevenconsiderthem.”

“You’resoright.Comeonin,let’shavealook.”

Marysteppedintentatively,studyingEmma’sfaceasifunsureifshewerereallywelcome.Emma

wantedtoshakeherhead.TheMaryDuvallshe’dknowninschoolhadlotsofbrassattitudeandspunk
—ofcourse,lifeandagechangedeveryone.ButthisMarywaswearingasubdueddenimskirtand
basicblouse,nostyleinsight,andseemedshyerthanawren.

Man,though,herworkwasn’tremotelyshy.AsEmmaslowlyexaminedtheportfolio,shefelt

distractedforthefirsttimeallday.Shesawstrikingcolors.Emotion.Vision.Paintingsthatoffered
somethingfreshandthoughtfulanddeep.

“MyGod.Whydidn’tyougivemestufftodisplaybefore?”Emmascoldedher.

“Youdowantthemthen?”

“Andanythingelseyou’vegot.I’dlovetogiveyouyourownshow,butrightnowthebestIcando

isincludeyouintheJulyprogram.”Shedidn’tsaythatshemaywellneedtoclosethegalleryafter
that.“Afterthat…Idon’tknow,butI’llhelpyoufindplacestodisplaywhateveryouhave,hookyou

upwiththebestdealers.You’rewonderful.”

Theychattedabitlonger.Withoutthinking,EmmainsistedMaryattendthenextDebslunch.Mary

hadbeentoone,butEmmasensedsheneededmorecoaxingtofeelpartoftheEastwickfoldagain.
Thewordscameoutofhermouthsoeasilythatshesuddenlyhadtogulp.

Obviouslysheshouldn’tbeignitingtheoldfriendshiporplayingwelcomingcommitteeto

EastwickforMarywhenshenolongerhadanyideawhereshewasgoingtobeorwhatshewas
goingtodo—andthosedecisionsweregoingtoslapherinthefaceawfullyfast.Maryhadnoreason
toknowaboutherpersonalcrises,butpossiblyherexpressiongavesomethingaway,becauseherold
friend’svoiceturnedgentle.

“Iexpectedthiswouldbeabaddaytovisit,butthat’spartlywhyIdid,Emma.I’msureyouknow

thateveryone’sbuzzingaboutyoursuddenbrokenengagement.Anditseemslikeyoumustbe
bearingthebruntofthetalkalone.Idon’tknowifReedholeduponhisranchorjustplain
disappearedforawhile,butwordhasitthathe’scompletelyoutofsight.Unfortunatelythat’smade
thegossipmongerscackleevenmore.”

WhenEmmadidn’trespond,Marysaidsoftly,“Idon’twanttoaddtoallthat.Ijustthoughtyou

mightneedsomeonearoundwhowasn’tgoingtoaskyouquestionsorbugyou.Itmayhavebeen
yearssinceIlivedinEastwick,butit’snotlikeI’veforgottenhowthegrapevineworks—Aw,hell.
Don’t,Em.Don’t.”

Emmawasn’tcrying.Shenevercriedinpublic.Sheknewpeoplethoughtofherasidealistic,butno

onehadaclueshe’dgrownupwithanalcoholicparentoranythingelsethatwaspersonallydifficult.
She’dlearnedatayoungagetokeepvulnerabilityoutofsight.Itwasjust…

Nothingseemedimportantrightnow.Shecouldn’tcarelessaboutgossipandEastwick.Running

thegalleryandcancelingweddingarrangementsandalltheotherlifechoresshe’ddonethatdayhad
seemedbeyondirrelevant.Shecouldn’tevengarneranyinterestinfacingthemajorlifechallenges
andchangesshehadtobecauseoflosingthetrustshe’dcountedonforsolong.

“Oh,Emma…”Marysurgedtowardherandtriedtopullherintoahug.“Iunderstand.Ithurts.It

doesn’tmatterwhocausedthebreakup.Breakingupisalwayshorrible.Whateverhappenedbetween
youandReed…”

“It’snotReed,”shechokedout.

“Yeah,right.Likeyourheart’snotbroken?”

God,whatamess.Herheartwasbroken,fordamnsure.ButnotoverReed.

OverGarrett.

Everythingelsemightbelife-alteringandawfulandpainful.Buttheonethingshecouldn’timagine

gettingoverwashowcompletelyshe’dmisjudgedGarrett.She’dneverfalleninlovebefore.Never
feltlove.Notthewayshedidforhim.

Andtohavehimbelieveshe’dpursuedhimtogetaninheritance?

Howcouldheknowhersolittle?Howcouldhethinksolittleofher?

Eleven

GarrettstoodonthetarmacattheprivateairportinEastwick,waitingfortheLeartoslidetoa

smoothstopandthedoorstofinallyopen.

Theskywasfatwithmuddyclouds,theraincomingdowninasteadydownpour—matching

Garrett’sdarkmoodperfectly.

Still,whenthelonepassengerclippeddownthemetalstepsfromtheplane,Garretthustledtoward

him.Hissister ’shusbandwasstocky,withblondhairandweather-ruddyskin,wearingatropical
khakijacketandchinosthatlookedwellsleptin.

“Griff.”Garrettextendedahandfirst.Bothwereprivatemenandtoostrong-mindedtobeclose

friends,butallGarrettwantedfromhissister ’shusbandrightnowwastobeafull-fledgedally.

Griff’sexpressionseemedtoechothesamesentiment.“I’mgladitwasyouwhoarrangedforthe

privateplaneandhadmepickedup.Idon’tunderstandwhat’sgoingon.Yourparentshaven’ttoldme
anythingexceptthatCarowasinthehospital.”

“Let’sgetoutoftherain.Thenwe’lltalk.”

“Ihaven’tsleptinalmostthirtyhours.ButIstillwanttohear—”

“Youwill.”Garrettdrove,takingthesouthroadwherethehighwaysnakedaroundcurves,

revealingviewsofthepewterbay.Thewindshieldwiperscouldbarelykeepupwiththesteady,
slooshingrain.

TheypassedtheroadtotheCartwrighthouse.Afterthatcamethesecludednestofhomesthat

includedtheBaldwinmansion.Intown,eventhisearlyintheday,allthestorelightsandstreetlamps
werealreadyonbecauseofthedarkstorm.Acrackleoflightningpromisedmoreofthesame.When
theypassedtheFarnsworthhouse,Grifffinallyspokeup.

“Youmissedtheroad.”

“No.Ithinkwe’dbettertalkbeforeyouseemysister.”

TherollingcountryoutsideEastwickhadclustersofhorsefarmsandstables—andnicelittle

countryroadswhereacarcouldpullin,cuttheengineandnotbenoticedintheshadowoftrees.
Garrettputhisheadbackandthenjustletthetruthout.“Shetriedtocommitsuicide.Camedamnclose
tosucceeding.”

“What?Yourparentstoldmeshewascriticallyillfromsomekindofdruginteraction.Whichis

whatIfoundsoconfusing,becausetheonlymedicineIknewshewastakingwasbirthcontrolandan
occasionalaspirin.What—”

Garrettmotionedhimtosilence.Heturned,needingtolookathisbrother-in-law,needingtoknow

thismanbetterthanheeverhadbefore.“She’snotherself,Griff.She’sshakyandscaredandshe
needshelp.Notsomeonewho’sgoingtocrucifyher.”

“YouthinkIwould?Hell,I’dneverhavelefthomeatallifI’drealizedshewasdepressed.”He

staredatGarrett.“There’smore,isn’tthere?”

“Yes.Waymore.”

“Tellme.Now.Ineedtoknowexactlywhat’swrongwithmywife.Andwhatthehell’sgoingonthat

noone’sgivenmeastraightanswerbeforethis.”

Garrettdidn’tmove.Hisbrother-in-law’srespondingwithangerwasjustwhathe’dhavedoneif

someonehaddaredtokeephiminthedark.Buthestillworriedhowtohandlethesituationbecause
heknewtacthadneverbeenhisstrongsuit.

“Isaid,tellme.What’sgoingon?Idemandtoknow.”

“AndIwanttotellyoubecauseIbelieveyourknowingthewholepicturecouldbeamatterofmy

sister ’slife.OtherwiseI’dneverconsiderbreakingherconfidence.ButIcan’tgiveyouthewhole
pictureatthisexactminute.”

“Thehellyoucan’t.”

Garrettdidn’tsmile,buthealmostwantedto.Itwassoeasytodealwithanotherman.Men

understoodeachother.Menrespondedinpredictableways.

MenwerenothinglikeEmma.

“ThisiswhatIwanttodo,Griff,”hesaidbluntly.“Ineedtogivemysisterachancetotellyouthe

situationherself.Ifyoustillhaveanyquestionstwodaysfromnow,thencallme.Ipromisetofillyou
in.”

“Notgoodenough,”Griffsnapped.

“Ithastobe.BecauseIwon’tbetrayhertrustifIdon’thaveto.AndrightnowIdon’twanttoeven

takeyoubacktoherunlessI’mdamnsureyou’llbegoodtoher.”

“IloveCaroline,forGod’ssake!WhyonearthwouldyouthinkIwouldn’tbegoodtoher?

Becausewehadsometroubleacoupleyearsback—”

“No,that’snotit.”Garrettrolleddownawindow.Rainwhiskedin,butitwastoohotandtootight

inthecarwithoutfreshair.Forthatmatter,rightnowhiswholelifefelttoohotandtootightto
breathe.Andhissister ’smesswasonlypartofit.“Ittookalongtimeformetotrustyou—”

“That’salikewise.IalwaysthoughtCarolinelovedyoumorethanme.”

“Shedoesn’t.Shelovesyoumorethananyoneoranythingintheuniverse.”Garrettsaiditbluntly,

toseeGriff’sreaction.

“Ifeelthesamewayabouther.”Nohesitation.Onlyincreasedanxiety.“Ineedtoknowwhat’s

wrongorhowcanIpossiblyknowwhattodoorhowtohelpher—”

“Andonewayoranother,youwill.Ipromise.But…Griff,youknowourbackground.Ourparents.

YouknowCarolineneverhadthesecurityoffeelingwantedorneeded.”

“You’renottellingmenews.”

“I’mjustsaying…shewasalwaysmorelikelytomakesomemistakesthatmaybeanotherwoman

wouldn’t.Notbecauseoflackofcharacter.Butbecauseoflackofsecurity,ontheinside.Andifyou
can’tdealwiththat,thenI’djustassoontakeyoubacktothatplane.Flyyouanywhereyouwanttogo.
Payyourway—”

“Shutup,Garrett.I’mnotbribable.Ithoughtyouknewthat.”

FinallyGarrett’spulseeased.“Ihopedyouwouldn’tbe.”Headded,“She’sscaredtoseeyou.Know

that.Andashamedofthissuicideattempt.Knowthat,too.Andifyoudidn’tguess,ourparentsheaped
morestress—andguilt—onherheadratherthanless.”

“Nothingnewthere,huh?”Griffsaidwrylyandthensankagainstthepassengerseatasiftryingto

processalltheinformationandimplicationsjustgivenhim.“Getmehome,wouldyou?”

“Yes.”Garrett,reassured,startedthecarandaimedtowardtheirhouse.Barelyanotherminute

passedbeforeGriffpipedupagain.

“What’swrong?”

Garrettglancedathim.“Youdon’tthinkthescenarioIlaidoutforyouwasenough?”

“Imeant…what’swrongwithyou?Youlookasifyouhaven’tsleptinaweek.Businesstroubles?”

“No.”Garretthesitated.Normallyhe’dneverhaveconfessedapersonalproblemtoanyone.But

becausehewantedastrongerbondwithGriff—andbecausehefeltsodamnedshatteredhecouldn’t
thinkclearlyanyway—headmitted,“Itseemsthatmylovelifehasalotincommonwithatrain
wreck.”

“SomeoneinNewYork?”

“No.Thewhereofitdoesn’tmatter.Thethingis…hell,IguessIjustassumeditwouldnever

happentome.ThatI’dfall,likeinthestorybooks.Ithoughtthewholethingwasamyth.Until…her.I
can’tbelievehowthewholeworldchanged,thatfast,thatcompletely.Only…”

WhenGarrettdidn’timmediatelyfillinthatblank,Griffguessed,“Shecheatedonyou?”

“No.Nothinglikethat.”

“Shedoesn’tcarethesamewayyoudo?”

“Ithoughtshedid.”Garrettstoppedataredlight,stareddeadaheaduntilitchanged.“NowIdon’t

know.Ijustfoundoutthatourgettingmarriedcouldmeanatonofmoneyforher.Iunderstand
money.Believeme.AndI’dmarryheranywayshe’dhaveme,tobehonest.It’sjust…Ithoughther
beingwithmewasabout—”Hecouldn’t,didn’t,saythewordlove.Nottoanotherman.“Ithoughtwe
wereclicking.Thatwebothfeltthesamethingexplodingbetweenus.Soithitmeintheguthard.That
therewasmoneybehindit.”

“You’resuretherewas?”

“Oh,yeah,I’msure.Shecameoutandadmittedit.”Garrettkeptreplayingthewholethinginhis

mind.Hersittingthereonhischair,wearinghisshirt.Hisfeelingsofullofemotionforher,love,
caring,protectiveness,lust,allofit.Andthenhersoguilelesslyspillingthewholestoryofher
suddenlylostinheritance.Herknowing—becauseshehadtoknow—thathewassowrappedupinher
thatshecouldhavesaidanythingintheuniversetohimatthatmoment.

HecouldfeelGriff’seyesonhim.Theywereonlyapinchawayfrompullingintohissister ’s

driveway.“Hell,that’srough,”hisbrother-in-lawsaidquietlyandthenslowlyadded,“Itseemsironic
thatwewerejusttalkingabouttheissuesthataffectCaroline…andthatyou’regoingthrough
somethingthesameway.”

“Comeagain?”

“Imeant…Iknowhowyoutwogrewup.Thatcoldhousehold.Yourparentsintostatusandthe

prestigeoftheirsociallifeatonmorethantheyseemedtocareabouteitherofyoukids.”

Garrettpulledintothedriveway,braked.“That’sexactlywhyIneedyoutobeextragoodto

Caroline.Needyoutogivehermoreropethansomeoneelse.Shehasatonofloveinher,Griff.ButI
think,comingfromwherewedid,it’dbeunrealistictothinkshecouldmakeamarriageworkwithout
gettinglostnowandthen.Idon’tmeanthatanything’syourfault.Orhers.Justthatforsurethetwoof
usarestuckwithalongerlearningcurvethanmostpeople.”

“Yeah,”Griffagreed.“That’sexactlywhyIaskedifyouwerepositiveaboutthatwoman’sfeelings

foryou.BecausepossiblytheKeatingbackgroundinfluencedhowyousawthesituation.”

Garrettsawhissister ’sfaceinthelivingroomwindow,sawGriff’seyeslightupwhenhesawher.

WhenGriffshotoutofthecar—completelyforgettinghisluggage—Garretthadtosmile,hadto
believethosetwohadarealchanceatmakingthingsrighttogether.

Buthissmiledisappearedashebackedoutofthedriveway.

Hisbrother-in-law’sinsightstartedclawingonhisnerves—abouthishavingthesame

dysfunctionalbackgroundCarolinedid.Garrettknewexactlyhowrelationship-challengedhewas.
Butthatsureashelldidn’tmeanheknewhowtofixtheshatteringmesshe’dmadewithEmma.

Beforehecouldpanic,though,hepulledoverthesideoftheroadanddialedhercell.

Sheanswered—whichwasgood.Buthecouldhearheapsofnoiseandotherpeople’svoicesinthe

background,aswellasthechillinhervoice—whichwasn’tsogood.

“Look,”hesaidandthenstopped.“Iupsetyou.”

“Morethanupsetme.”

“Iwasinthewrong,”hesaidimmediatelybutcouldn’tverywellelaboratebecausehedidn’tknow

exactlywhathe’ddone.

“Notwrong,”Emmacorrectedhim.“Notifthatwashonestlyhowyoufelt.”

Hesensedaterrifyingtrapandshiftedtowhatmattered.“Iwanttomarryyou.That’showIfeel.

That’swhatIthoughtyouwanted,too…maybenotthatveryminute?Iassumeyou’dhavewantedto
spendmoretime,haveachancetobemoresure.Butrightthenwaswhenthemoneyproblemcame
up.”

“Garrett,Ididn’ttellyouabouttheproblembecauseIwasexpectingyoutosolveit.Itoldyou

becauseitwassomethingtraumaticthathappenedtomeandIthought—hoped—thatyou’dbecome
someoneIcouldhonestlytalktowhentherewasaproblem.”

“Youcan.ForGod’ssake,youcan.”Hepushedon.“Emma,Idon’tgiveadamnaboutmoney.I’ve

gotplentyofmoney.Itdoesn’tneedtobeanissue—”

“Butitis,”shesaidsosoftlyhecouldbarelyhearovertheconfoundingnoiseinherbackground.

“IfyouthoughtIwaswithyou—ifyouthoughtthatIsleptwithyou—asawayofgettingmy
inheritance,thenwe’renotjustworldsapart.We’reauniverseapart.I’msorryImisunderstood.”

“Emma—”hestartedtosay.Buttherewasnoonelistening.She’dquietlyhungup.

Outofnowhere,therainhadsuddenlystopped.Cloudstumbledovereachothertorevealpatchesof

azuresky.Abunnypeekedoutfromthewoodsyroadside.Theafternoonhadturnedidyllic.
Everywherebutinsidehim.

He’dlosther.Hehadn’tbeendeadpositiveuntilnow,butthisconversationsealedwhathe’dfeared

allday.He’dblownit.Apparentlyirreparably.He’djustfoundher—theonewomanwho’dmadehim
believeinlove,inhimself,inafuture.Andnowshewasgone.

Withouther,hefeltaknifetwistinhisheart,sosharp,soraw,thathisincrediblystupidheart

actuallyfeltbroken.Andthat’sexactlyhowitwasgoingtobe,hefeared.

Eitherhemiraculously—quickly—foundawaytohealthisbreachwithEmmaorneitherhislife

norhisheartwouldeverbethesame.

SeveraldayslaterEmmaslippedintoaseatattheDebs’table.Thelunchhadbeenscheduledafew

daysearlierthanusual—technicallytodoamoreformalwelcomebackforMaryDuvall,butEmma
hadprivatereasonsforwantingthislunchoverandoutoftheway.

Afterspendingthelastfourdayssoul-andheart-searching,Emmahaddiscoveredallkindsof

hiddensidestoherselfshedidn’tknowshehad.Somewerepleasant.Somenot.Butshe’dsurfaced
fromallthatinternalsearching,madeseveralpainfulmajorlifedecisionsandwasreadytoact.

Thislunchwashardlyonthelevelofhugelifechanges,butitwasstillsomethingthatneededtobe

done.Thegirlsallwanderedinrightatnoon.Marytooktheseatnexttoher.Outside,itwashotter
thanthedevil.Harrywaspolishingglassesbehindthemalachitebar.Kidsscreamedoutatthepool,
andthegolferswerehikinginforlunch.

Emmahadchosentowearice-bluetoday,justsilkslacksandasleevelesstunic,butshe’dadded

whitetopazforjewelry.Itwasherversionofpowerdressingforahotday—andsheknewshe’dbe
grilledupthewazoo,sotherewasnowayaroundbeinginthehotseattoday.

Initially,though,thelunchstartedeasily.Harryservedafresh-fruitsalad,openedthewine,brought

outthecheeseandseafoodplates.Thegrouphadoptedforamunchlunch.Felicityhadtuckedinnext
toher,Lilyacrossfromher,withVanessaThorpeandAbbyTalbottakingthefarends.Carolinehad
joinedthem,herfirstoutingsinceshe’dgottenoutofthehospital.

Wheneveryonesettleddown,EmmaproposedatoasttoMary.“Wewereallsobusytalkinglast

timethatweneverreallyhadachancetowelcomeMarybackhome.Atfirstshethoughtshewasonly
comingtotakecareofhergrandfather,butnowitlookslikeshe’shopingtostaypermanentlybackin
Eastwick.Right,Mary?”

EmmahadhopedthegroupwouldbedistractedbyMary—andtheywereforafewminutes.But

they’dbarelyfinishedthefirstcoursebeforethegroupnose-divedonher.

Felicityledthepack.“Comeon,Emma,youhavetotelluswhathappenedwithReed.Nooneknows

anything!Andnowhe’sdisappearedforawhile,sonobodycanaskhim.Youweretheonewhonever
wantedtogetmarried,butthenyoufoundReedandseemedsohappy.Comeon,whathappened?”

ThequestionwasexactlywhatEmmahadexpected—andwhyshe’dbeendeterminedtofacethis

lunchandsaywhatneededtobesaid.“I’msorry,everyone,buttherewasnobig,dramatic,
scandalousreasonforthebreakup.IthinkIrealizedalongtimeagothatwecaredabouteachotheras
friends,whichwasgreatbutnothowtwopeopleabouttobemarriedshouldfeel.”

“Sowhobrokeitoff?YouorReed?”Vanessaasked.

“Emma,ifyouweren’taware,”Abbypokedin,“Reedmaybeflyingundertheradarthesedays,but

beforethathespreadtheworditwashisfaultaboutthebrokenengagement.Thatyoudidn’tdo
anythingwrong.Sodidhecheat?”

“No,no.Reeddidn’tdoanythingwrong.”

“That’snotwhatthegossipersaresaying.Everybodythinkssomethingbighadtohavehappenedto

causesuchasuddenbreakup.SotheyfigureReedmusthavedoneyouwronginsomeway.”

Emmafirmlyputthattobed.“Well,hedidn’t.Ifhe’sbeenclaimingresponsibility,it’sonlybecause

Reed’salwaysgoingtodothegentlemanlythingandprotectawoman.Butthiswasn’tabouteitherof
usdoingsomethingwrong.”

“Ithinkyoubrokehisheart,”Felicitysaidbluntly.

Theaccusationstung.Itwasjustsoironictohavetotalkaboutbrokenheartswhenherownwas

crushedtobitsandshecouldn’tsharethatknowledge.“Well,IhopeIdidn’t.Butforanyonewhosees
Reed,Ihopeyou’llgivehimsympathy.TheonlythingIreallyregretisthatIevertookhisringto
beginwith,becauseIknownowhowcompletelywrongthatrelationshipwas.”

“Youlookpale,”LilyCartwrightsaidgently.

“Notsleeping?”Abbyguessed.

Theyletheroffthehook.Oncetheyalltookareallygoodlookather,infact,shegotanimmediate

bossylistofordersaboutgettingmoresleep,seeingadoctor,arrangingforamassage.

“Okay,that’senoughpickingonme,”shesaidwryly.“We’vegotalotmoretotalkaboutthislunch.

Caroline’sfinallyoutofthehospital.WeshouldbehavingadualcelebrationforbothMaryand
Caro.”

“Tobehonest,Ihaveahugesecrettotellyouall,”Carolinesaid,thenglancedaroundtoensureno

outsiderswerecloseenoughtohearthispartoftheconversation.Whenshetuggedherchaircloserto
thetable,theotherspulledupcloser,too.

“Myhusbandwantedmetotellyouthis.SodidmybrotherGarrett,whichI’msureEmmaalready

knows.”Carolinetookahugebreath.“I’vebeenhidingsomethingfromeveryone.Iwasbeing
blackmailed.”

“What?”Thequestionechoedthroughthewholegroup,everyoneexpressingshockexceptforLily.

“That’swhyIwassodepressed.Theblackmailerwasthreateningme,andIwasafraidifthe

informationgotout,itwouldruinmymarriage,mylife.ButGarrettconvincedmetotellGriff.And
whenGriffgothome,Idid.”TearswelledinCaroline’seyes,butthistimenottearsoffearsor
sadness.Tearsofrelief.“It’sbeenterrible.”

“Oh,Caroline.”Lilyreachedforherfirst.“That’sexactlywhathappenedtous.Jackwasa

blackmailer ’starget,too.Jacktooktheblackmaillettertothepoliceafewweeksago.”

“Griffhasn’tdonethatyet.Ihaven’t,either.”

“Doit,”Lilyurged.“Thinkaboutit,Caroline.Don’tyouthinkit’shighlyunlikelytherecouldbe

twoblackmailersinEastwick?Sothiscouldwellbethesamepersonwhowasterrorizingus.”

Abbysuddenlyspokeup.“There’saconnectionbetweenthetwo.Therehastobe.Betweenmy

mother ’smysteriousdeathandthetheftofherjournalsandnowtwoblackmailattempts.Whoever
stolethosejournalsisusingtheinformation.”

“That’swhatitsoundslike,”Carolineagreedworriedly.“But,Abby,yourmomneverpublished

stuffthatwasso…damaging.Shewasn’tintocruelty—”

“Shepublishedthetruth.Sheneverinventedanything.Butthat’spartofwhatIthinkistheissue.She

didn’tuseeverythingsheknew.Therecouldhavebeenallkindsofthingsinthosejournalsthatno
oneknewbutmymotherand,ofcourse,thepeopleinvolved.Andnowwhoeverstolethosejournals
knowsthatkindofprivateinformation,too.”

“Butwho?”Vanessaasked.“IthastobesomeoneinEastwick.Someoneweknow.Someonewho’d

knowenoughaboutusalltoknowwhatwouldhurtdifferentpeople,youknow?Astrangercouldn’t
readanystufflikethatandknowitcouldcausedamage.”

“Yikes,”Felicitysaid.“Thisisgettingscarierandscarier.Tothinkthatsomeoneweknowandtrust

istheculprit.”

“Notjustaculprit.Ablackmailerandamurderer.”Abbydrummedherfingernailsonthetable.“I

hateitthatyouwereavictim,too,Caroline.Butitmakesmefeelevenmoreconvincedthatmy
motherwasmurdered.I’mgoingbacktothepolice.Onewayoranother,wehavetofindoutwho’s
behindallthis.”

Thegirlsbuzzed,unitedasbeesbringingfreshhoneybacktothehive—andEastwickwastheir

hive,sotherewasnoquestionabouttheirwantingtoprotectit.Anyothertime,Emmawouldhave
beenroiledupastherestofthem,andshewasrelievedtohearthatthereasonforCaroline’ssuicide
attempthadfinallycomeoutintheopen.Still,Garrett’suncoveringhissister ’ssecretstirredherown
heartsicksituationagain.ItwassolikehimtogetthatsecretoutofCaronomatterwhatittook.
Garrettwouldgototheendsoftheearthforthoseheloved.ButknowingthatonlygaveEmmaa
freshtasteofdespair…untilshesuddenlyrealizedthatallconversationatthetablehadstopped.

Thatneverhappened.NotwiththeDebs.Evenwhentherewasn’tacrisisofevents,theytalkedeach

others’earsoff.SothesuddensilencemadeEmma’sheadshootup.“What…?”shebegantoask.

Butthenshesawthemanwendinghiswayfromthedoorwaytotheirtable.Itwashardtoguesswhy

orhowGarrettsnaredthewomen’scompleteattention,butEmmawastednotimewonderingabout
that.

Hesearchedthecrowd,searchedallthefaces—foundhers.

Theireyesmet.

Hekeptcoming.Hiseveryfootstepbroughtanewracetoherheart.Heneverfaltered,never

lookedaway,neverglancedattheotherwomen.Whenhereachedthetable,hejustreachedoutahand
andsnaggedherwrist.

“I’msorrytointerruptyourlunch,ladies,butIneedEmma.Rightnow,”hesaid.“Andthiswon’t

wait.”

Twelve

Emmahadnologicalreasontofeelherheartsuddenlyrushwithhope.Butitdid.Justfromseeing

him.Justfromfeelinghishandclaspedinhers.Shedidn’tknowwhyhe’dsoughtherout,didn’tcare.
Forthosefewmoments,justbeingwithhimseemedenoughtostaveoffthatawfuldespairchewing
onherheart.

Butwhenheusheredherintothepassengerseatofhiscar,shecouldn’thelpasking,“Wherearewe

going?”

“Aplacewherewecantalkwithnointerruptions,guaranteed.Allright?”

“Yes.”Itwasmorethanallright.Hewantedtotalktoher—butshesofiercelywantedtotalktohim.

Shewatchedhim,nottheroad,ashedrove.Forfourdaysandfournightsshe’dpinedforhim.

She’dhurtsobadlytothinkhe’dbelieveshewasagolddigger.

Butthosesamefourdaysandfournightsshe’ddoneenoughanalyzingandagonizingtofacesome

scarytruths.TheDebs’lunchtodayhadreechoedoneofherdiscoveries.Garretthaddiscoveredhis
sister ’ssecret,duganddugandduguntilhe’dfoundawaytohelpCaroline—thengoneafterhelping
herwholehog.Thatwashowhelived,whohewas.

Emmahadsofallenfortherightman—amanwho’dclimbK2andbackforsomeoneheloved.

Shejusthadn’trealizedhowhischaracterdirectlyappliedtohowhe’dreactedtoherdaysbefore.

“I’vethoughtoveralotofthingsoverthepastfewdays,”hesaidquietly.

“SohaveI.”Whenhedidn’taddanythingmorepersonal,shetriedtakingadifferentconversational

track.“Carolinehadalottosayatlunchtoday.Itsoundsasifeverything’sgoingtoworkoutallright
forher.Thankstoyou.”

“There’snohappyendinginthebankyet.Nothingcanbecompletelyresolveduntiltheblackmailer

iscaught.But…”

“Butwhat?”

“ButI’vedoneallIcando.Therestisuptoherhusband.Andthepolice.”Garrettshotheraquick

glance.“Ilovemysister,butIhaveotherthingsonmymindrightnow.”

Thatsoundedominous.Whenshe’dthoughtaboutseeinghimagain,Emmahadassumedshe’drush

tosayallthethingsshewantedandneededto.Yetthefearofhisrejectingher,oflosinghimasecond
time,keptathickknotinherthroat.Shecouldn’ttellfromhisexpressionwhathewantedtosayor
whathewanted.

Theypassedthetown,thewealthysuburbs,hitthecoastroad.Lessthanfiveminuteslaterheturned

inataprivateairstrip.AsilverLearsatontherunway,stairspulleduptotheopendoor.Adarkhaired
manstoodinthedoorway.Garrettdrovethecarrightonthetarmactothesteps.

“Whatonearth—?”

“Justaprivateplacetotalk,”heassuredher.

Thatwasalie.Shecouldseeitinhiseyes.Buttheplaneandlocationweresomystifyingthatshe

decidedtojustwaithimout,seewhathewasupto.

Garrettclimbedoutofthecarandspoketothemanwhodescendedfromtheplane—Emmathought

sheheardtheguywascalledDoug.ThenGarrettcamebackforher.

“ThisismydriverfromNewYork,Emma.Ihavetotradethissetofwheelsforanother.”

Itseemedevenmoremystifyingthathe’dbefussingwithcarorbusinessproblemsatthisprecise

moment,butshewentalong.Theminuteshesteppedout,Dougimmediatelyclimbedinandtookoff
withthecar.Whichwasfine.Onlytherewasn’tanothervehicleinsight.

Garrettmotionedhertowardtheplane.“Iknowitlookscrazy.Butit’stheoneplaceintheuniverse

whereIcanguaranteethatnoone,absolutelynoone,willeitherinterruptorfindus.”

Sheneversawnervesinhisexpression,hisposture,yetsomethingabouthimwassocompletely

differentthatitfinallyregistered:hewasscared.Damnneartooscaredtobreathe.Atleast,tobreathe
normally.

Sheclimbedthestepsaheadofhimandduckedinside.She’dbeeninprivateplanesallherlife,but

notthisspecificLear.Theinsidehadbeencustomizedtoresemblealivingroom.Thecouchesand
easychairshadseatbelts,butotherwise,thewhiteleatherfurnishingsandpolishedcherrycouldhave
beeninanycomfortableden.Oncetheywereinside,outofthebrightsunlight,andshewasfinally
completelyalonewithhim,shewhirledaround.Itwasallshecouldtakeofmystifyingmysteriesand
waiting.

“Iwaswrong,Garrett,”shewhispered.

“No.Notyou.Iwastheonewhowaswrong.”

Sheshookherhead.“Youassumedthatmoneymatteredtome.Iwantedtodenythatfromhereto

Poughkeepsie.ButwhenIlookedatmylife,reallylooked,Irealizedyouhadeveryreasontomake
thatassumption.”Shegulped,thenspilledmoreout.“I’vehadeverythingIeverwanted.Justtookit
forgranted.I’vebeenspoiled.”

“No,youhaven’t,Em.EverywhereIlook,you’regivingsomethingtoothers—”

“AndIlovegiving.Butit’sbeeneasyforme,Garrett.Easyformetokeeptakinghandoutsfrom

myparentsbecauseIalwayshadtheexcuseofthetrustfundcomingin.Buttherealitywasthatitwas

easytospend,easytoliveexactlyhowIwantedtolive.Iguessitshouldhavebeenobvioustome,but
awomanalmostthirtywho’sneverlivedwithinhermeansisdarnspoiled.Fromyourviewpoint,I’d
beamazedifyouhadn’tseenmeasselfish.”

Finallythatcalm,quietexpressioninhisfaceseemedtocrack.Suddenlyhisdarkeyeslooked

liquidandnaked,rawwithvulnerabilityandsomethingelse.“Emma,youarepositivelytheleast
selfishpersonIknow.”

“Garrett,I’mtryingtosaythatIunderstand.WhyyouthoughtImighthave…pursued…you,

knowingtherewasathreattomyinheritance.Irealizenowthatyouhadeveryreasontothinkofme
asmaterialistic—”

“Stop.”Hescrabbledahandthroughhishair.“Iadmitit,Emma.Ididthinkthat—forashortperiod

oftime.Whereyousawthatjudgmentasaninsult,Ijustthoughtofitaslife.Thepracticalwaypeople
areinreallife.ButthenIdidsomesoul-searching,too.Andrealizedthatgrowingup,allthevaluesI
sawstemmedfrommoney.Nooneinmyfamilymadeachoicethatdidn’tincludemoney.Value—all
value—wasdefinedbymoney.”

“Iunderstand.”

“No.Youcan’t.Itwasaknee-jerkreactionformetorespondthatway.Ididn’twantyoutoneedme

onlybecauseofmoney.Ididn’twantyoutobelieveIgaveadamnaboutyourmoney,either.Ijust
wantedtheretobeanus.SoIjustsaidthefirstthingthatwouldmakethatmoneyproblemdisappear.”

Emmajoltedinshockwhenastrangershowedupinthecockpitdoor.Shehadn’trealizedanyone

elsewasontheplane.Thegray-hairedmanraisedahandingreeting,thensaidquickly,“We’vebeen
clearedfortakeoff,Mr.Keating.Fiveminutes.”Heturned,pulledtheplane’sdoorshutthen
disappearedbackintothecockpitaftersealingthatdoorclosed,too.

EmmashotstartledeyesatGarrett.

“Aw,hell,”hesaid.“IfIwereaknightinshiningarmor,Icouldpullthisoffthewayitshouldbe.

ButI’mnot,Em.Thisisthething—Icanhaveyoubackbeforeworktomorrowifyouneedtobe,but
there’ssomewhereIwantyoutoflywithmenow.Justsayyes.”

Forthatexpressioninhiseyes,she’dhavesaidyestoanythingheasked.Hestrappedherinnextto

himjustintimetoheartheenginesstartup.Beforetheyzoomedintotheair,though,heputtwoboxes
inherlap.Theywerebothsapphirevelvet—oneasmallsquareboxandtheotheralargeoblong
shape.

Thejethadleveledoffabovethecloudsbeforeheletheropenthebigone.Shefoundallkindsof

papers—alabreportonbloodtests,thedeedandtitletoColor,thedeedtoabrownstonein
Manhattan,amarriagelicense,anappointmentwithanunknownmanforlaterthatsameday.

Shelookedup,bothoverwhelmedandconfused.

“Theappointmentiswithanartist.Thesecondboxisempty,Emma,fornow,becauseIdidn’twant

anheirloomorastandardring.Iwantedadesigncreatedthat’suniquelyforyouandonlyyou.AndI
thoughtit’dbeagoodtimetodothatrightafterdinner.”

“Afterdinner,”shesaidfaintly.

“Yeah.Ithoughtwecouldgetmarriedfirst.Ihadtocallyourdoctortogettheblood-testform.And

Iboughtacoupleofplaingoldmatchingbandssowecouldhaveatokenbeforeyourrealringis
ready.”

“Married,”shesaidfaintly.

“Iwasthinkingaboutbuyingyouanisland.Justasmallone.Foragetaway.Aplacewherewecould

skinny-dipinthepalebluewaterandsleeponabedofrosepetalsandwatchsunrisesandsunsets
together.ButIhaven’thadachanceyetto—”

“Achance,”shesaidfaintly.

Heunhookedhersafetybelt,thenhis,then,asifsheweighedlessthanacottonpuff,pulledher

directlyonhislap.“Emma,pleasedon’targuewithme.Weneedtobemarriedbeforeyourthirtieth
birthday.Idon’twantyouever,everworriedaboutyourindependence.That’swhyIputallthese
papersinmotion,includingatrustforyou—atrustthat’sallyours.Nomatterwhathappenstome.
Andasfarasyourtrust,cookie—”

Hemotionedwhenshetriedtospeak.

“Asfarasyourtrust,Ithinkwecouldsavethatforourkids.Thenyoucanputitcompletelyoutof

yourmind,neverthinkaboutitagain.Buttherestoftheplan,wecouldkeepitbetweenus.”

“Betweenus,”sheechoedonelasttime.

“Youcoulddivorcemeafteryourbirthdayifyouwant.Butthissolveseverything,youknow?You

don’thavetofretinheritancesoranythingelse,butyoucanstillgetwhatshouldhavebeenyours
fromthestart.Andwhilewe’retogether,I’dhavethechancetowooyou,cookie.Toexperimentwith
beingabetterwhiteknight.ToloveyouthewayIwantyoutobeloved—”

Ittookakisstoshuthimup.Who’dhaveguessedhersocontrolled,sostrongGarrettcouldbeso

vulnerable?Yetwhenherlipsgrazedhis,herlovercametolife.Asoftkissbecamericher,sweeter,
deeper.Eyesclosed,sheofferedhimherheart,windingherarmsaroundhim,sealinghimcloseto
her.

Finallysheliftedherheadandfrowned.“DidImentionthatIwascrazyaboutyou?”

“Idon’tthinkitcameup,”hesaid.

“DidImentionhowmuchIloveyou?”

“No.ButIwasstartingtobelieveit.”

“Onlystarting?”Shezoomeddownagainandforcedhimtosufferthroughanothersetofkisses,a

scaleofkissesandtouchesandembracesthatthreatenedtocrumblehiscontrol…andfordarnsure,
hers.

“Ibelieve,Ibelieve,”hewhisperedtenderly.

“Ilikethatphraseyouusedaboutourbuildingsomethingonlybetweenus,”shewhisperedback.

“Wecandoit,Garrett.Buildourowndynasty,ourownway.Buildahouse.Buildafamily.”

“Buildalife.Withloveframingeverydayinit,”hesaid.Andthatwasthelasteitherofthemwasted

timetalking.

Lookforthenextbookinthe

SECRETLIVESOFSOCIETYWIVESminiseries!

THEONE-WEEKWIFEbyPatriciaKay

comingfromSilhouetteDesireJuly2006.

SILHOUETTEBOOKS

ISBN1-55254-482-6

THESOON-TO-BE-DISINHERITEDWIFE

Copyright©2006byHarlequinBooksS.A.

Allrightsreserved.Exceptforuseinanyreview,thereproductionorutilizationofthisworkin

wholeorinpartinanyformbyanyelectronic,mechanicalorothermeans,nowknownorhereafter
invented,includingxerography,photocopyingandrecording,orinanyinformationstorageor
retrievalsystem,isforbiddenwithoutthewrittenpermissionoftheeditorialoffice,SilhouetteBooks,
233Broadway,NewYork,NY10279U.S.A.

Allcharactersinthisbookhavenoexistenceoutsidetheimaginationoftheauthorandhaveno

relationwhatsoevertoanyonebearingthesamenameornames.Theyarenotevendistantlyinspired
byanyindividualknownorunknowntotheauthor,andallincidentsarepureinvention.

ThiseditionpublishedbyarrangementwithHarlequinBooksS.A.

®andTMaretrademarksofHarlequinBooksS.A.,usedunderlicense.Trademarksindicatedwith

®areregisteredintheUnitedStatesPatentandTrademarkOffice,theCanadianTradeMarksOffice
andinothercountries.

VisitSilhouetteBooksat

www.eHarlequin.com

Don’tmissanyofthedrama.

Collectallsixtitlesin

SECRETLIVESofSOCIETYWIVES

THERAGS-TO-RICHESWIFE

MetsyHingle,May2006

THESOON-TO-BE-DISINHERITEDWIFE

JenniferGreene,June2006

THEONE-WEEKWIFE

PatriciaKay,July2006

THEBOUGHT-AND-PAID-FORWIFE

BronwynJameson,August2006

THEONCE-A-MISTRESSWIFE

KatherineGarbera,September2006

THEPART-TIMEWIFE

MaureenChild,October2006