She shrugged. “Probably. Good one for a meditation instructor, don’t you think? Meet you in the parking lot.”
Piper stopped by her office for her purse and to freshen up, and when she exited the building, he was waiting for her by his Mercedes. When she approached, he walked to the passenger’s side and opened the door for her. She slid into the supple leather seat and felt butterflies taking flight in her stomach again. She hadn’t been this attracted to someone since Matthew. Her eyes were drawn to his hands on the steering wheel, his long and elegant fingers, and she found herself imagining what they would feel like on her body. Stop it, she scolded herself.
They sat at an outside table, under the orange awnings. Piper looked at the menu, but her stomach was in such a flutter she wasn’t sure she could eat anything. “I think I’ll just have one of the small plates,” she said.
“Really? I’m starving. All that meditating made me work up an appetite.” They both laughed.
“I’m sorry you didn’t like the class,” she said after they’d ordered. “Have you ever done meditation on your own?”
“No. I have to say I don’t see the point of it.”
She nodded. “I think many people feel that way until they try it. I’m sorry this wasn’t a good experience for you today. What were you hoping for?”
He looked away for a moment and then turned his eyes back to her. “I guess I was hoping for some relief.” He paused. “I’ve gone through a rough patch the last few months. But I’m feeling hopeful again.”
“I’m glad. Fred is lucky to have you as his attorney.”
“I’m going to do everything in my power to live up to his faith in me.”
She wanted to offer him a word of encouragement but didn’t want to seem condescending. Instead, she said, “I’m a great listener. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m just a phone call away.”
Leo smiled at her. “Thank you.”
The waiter brought their lunches, the roasted eggplant for Piper and a Reuben for Leo.
“I feel bad that you wasted your money on the workshop lunch. You must let me pay for this to make up for it,” Piper said.
6
The first thing Blaire saw when she pulled into Kate’s driveway was two men in dark suits and coats standing in front of the door. As soon as she parked and stepped out of the convertible, one of them walked over. “Are you expected, ma’am?”
He looked young. Too young to realize that women her age hated being called ma’am.
“Yes. I’m Kate’s friend, Blaire Barrington.”
He held up a finger and opened a notebook. “Your name is here, but I do need to see some ID, please.”
He obviously didn’t read her books. Though the truth was, despite her fame, few people recognized her face. Occasionally, usually at a restaurant, she’d get a request for an autograph. But for the most part, she lived her life in anonymity. Book signings were a different story. She and Daniel were used to long lines and throngs of people, leaving both of them exhausted and with aching hands by the end. Blaire thrived on it.
She pulled out her driver’s license and handed it over, watching as he snapped a picture with his phone, then motioned for her to go ahead. The door opened before she knocked, and Kate stood in the frame, looking pale and drawn.
“What’s with all the guys in black?” Blaire asked.
Kate started to say something, but then shook her head. “Simon hired them. Just in case . . .”
After Kate shut the door and engaged the dead bolt, she led Blaire from the hallway into the kitchen. Turning to her, she said, “Selby’s here. She came by earlier to check on me.”
Blaire groaned inwardly. The last person she was in the mood for was Selby. They’d barely acknowledged each other at the funeral luncheon; Selby had sat with her husband, Carter, and not with the women. Now she’d have no choice but to talk to her.
When they walked into the kitchen, Blaire looked around in appreciation. It was fabulous, like something you would expect to see in a grand Tuscan villa of old. Beautiful terra-cotta flooring that looked so authentic she wondered if it had been brought over from Italy tile by tile. A skylighted cathedral ceiling with its rough-hewn wood beams cast a golden glow over the polished wooden counters and floor-to-ceiling cabinets. The room had the same refined and antique feel as the rest of the house, but with the added flavor of a bit of old Europe.
Selby was seated at a table that appeared to be a thick slab of wood carved from a single tree, coarse on the edges and elegantly simple. Annabelle was on her lap, and Selby was reading to her. Selby looked up, her expression turning sour.
“Oh. Hello, Blaire.” Selby scrutinized her with the same disdain she always had, but Blaire didn’t care anymore. She knew she looked good. If she wasn’t quite as thin as she’d been in high school, her time at the gym and careful diet assured she could still rock a pair of jeans. And the hair that had been impossible to tame back then was straight and shiny thanks to the modern miracle known as keratin. Selby’s eyes rested on the round eight-carat diamond ring on Blaire’s left hand.
Blaire coolly returned the favor, grudgingly acknowledging that the years had been good to Selby. If anything, she was more attractive now than she had been in high school, the soft waves around her face streaked with subtle highlights that softened her features. Selby’s jewelry was exquisite—large pearl earrings, a gold bangle, and a sapphire-and-diamond ring on her hand, which Blaire knew was an heirloom. Carter had shown it to Blaire a million years ago—before he’d acquiesced to his parents’ insistence that he find a “suitable” prospect to settle down with.
“Hi, Selby. How are you?” Blaire said, turning away from her and pulling a stuffed purple unicorn out of her tote. She held it out to Annabelle. “Annabelle, I’m your mommy’s old friend, Blaire. I thought you might like to meet Sunny.”
Annabelle flew from Selby’s lap, her arms outstretched, and hugged the stuffed animal to her chest. “Can I keep her?” she asked.
“Of course. I found her especially for you.”
Breaking into a wide grin, the little girl squeezed it tighter. Blaire was pleased to see that it was a hit.
“Where are your manners, Annabelle?” Kate gently scolded. “Say thank you.”
Annabelle regarded Blaire solemnly for a moment, then murmured a shy “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, Annabelle. Auntie Blaire loves to give presents.”
Selby looked annoyed. “I didn’t realize you were already on ‘auntie’ terms, Blaire.”
Couldn’t Selby put aside her pettiness for one day? Blaire thought. Not about to engage, she instead turned to Kate. “You don’t mind if she calls me that, do you?”
Kate grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Of course not. We were like sisters—are like sisters,” she corrected herself.
“Remember how we used to pretend that we were sisters when we’d go clubbing in college?” Blaire asked her. “And the fake names. Anastasia and . . .”
“Cordelia!” Kate finished, laughing.
Selby rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it was hilarious.”