Chapter 1

“Thanks for meeting me.”

“I don’t have a lot of time.”

The two women lapsed into silence after those aimless sentences. The restaurant was practically empty at that time of day. Not quite lunch yet and the breakfast crowd had come and gone. It was a popular place located in the heart of the uptown area, and it was where Collette came whenever she had clients to wine and dine.

She was well-known and well-liked by the owner, who had provided her usual table by the window. It afforded them privacy.

“What are you having?”

The younger woman glanced up from her study of the menu.

“Whatever you choose.”

With a perfunctory nod, Collette summoned the waiter and ordered the club salad.

“I suppose you are wondering why I called you.”

“The thought crossed my mind.”

“You have changed,” the younger woman observed.

“If you mean I am no longer a doormat, then yes.”

“You look good.”

“Thanks. Would you like to tell me the reason for this meeting now, or would you like to wait until we are served?”

“You said you don’t have time–”

“I don’t. What is it, Janice?”

She fiddled with the utensils and avoided her sister’s eyes. “You must hate me.”

“I did, for a very long time. However, it has been almost ten years now. Water under the bridge.”

“We hurt you a lot.”

“Understatement of the year.” Collette thought she was over the pain of their betrayal, but that was not the case. “I would rather not rehash the past, if you don’t mind.” “He’s leaving me,” her sister whispered, causing Colette to stare at her for a moment, her face expressionless.

She should be jubilant over the news, jumping up and shouting that what goes around comes around, but to her surprise, she realized she felt sorry for the woman who had caused her so much heartbreak and pain.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “We are not able to have children.”

Which was ironic, Collette thought bitterly. She had wanted children, had planned for them, and right after she was dumped by her fiancé, she discovered she was pregnant. That discovery was followed by the miscarriage that had almost cost her life.

Two months after that, Trevor married her sister in a civil ceremony. The news had almost killed her. She was barely recovering from her ordeal when she received the news.

It had destroyed their relationship, and this was the first time she had spoken to Janice since that happened. The younger woman had tried reaching out to her several times recently, but she had refused to take the calls—until now.

“What do you want me to say to that?”

“Nothing.” Tears were visible in Janice’s eyes, and the pleading look on her face was ignored.

“Our food is here.”

They waited until the waiter had left before resuming. “I am sorry for hurting you like that. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking that I was not good enough for Trevor. You kept harping on the fact that he was so handsome and had such a good job.” Collette dug into her salad and wished she was anywhere else. She had managed to put all the sordidness behind her with months of therapy, but she still woke up in cold sweat, her heart pounding.

“And I was wrong. He blames me for taking him away from you.”

She gave the girl a surprised look. “As I recalled, he went willingly.”

“I seduced him,” Janice whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. “And now I am getting just what I deserve.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to seduce him if he was not open to the idea.” She said dismissively. After years of blaming her sister for the entire situation, she came to that conclusion . But the fact remained that Trevor had been a willing participant. It had been painful to acknowledge that much.

Janice was five years younger and had always been prettier. Both women had flawless caramel skin and thick dark brown hair. As the older sister, Collette had always looked out for her. And their parents had spoiled her rotten, allowing her to get whatever she asked for.

Collette had been overlooked, something she had not minded at first. “You are so responsible, honey,” her mother always said. “You don’t need looking after. Your sister, on the other hand, is so frivolous and sometimes foolish. And adorably reckless.”

And beautiful. Collette had never envied the younger woman, who had always garnered a lot of attention. Janice had never lacked for male companionship, so when she started after Trevor, the bewilderment and pain had been real.

“Why?” she had asked Janice after realizing that she had been the reason why Trevor had called things off.

“I love him. I am sorry, Collette, but Trevor and I love each other. We didn’t want to hurt you, but we cannot deny ourselves any longer.”

The betrayal by her sister, her only living relative, had pierced her like a sword, cutting through skin and bones and extremities. She had never been one for female friends; yes, she had a few, but she considered Janice her best friend. So, she had not only lost a sister but her best friend as well.

Taking a sip of her iced tea with the lemon wedge, she studied the younger woman and would not be human if she was not pleased with the haggard look and the lines on the formerly flawless face.

She had heard rumors of the marriage disintegrating, of course, and Trevor had called several times asking to meet her. She had refused and told him not to call her again.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked quietly.

“I am trying to cleanse myself; come clean with my conscience.” Janice played around with her salad listlessly. “Our marriage was rocky from the beginning.”

Collette wanted to say something spiteful but managed to curb the desire. It was not worth it, and besides, she had learned to get past the hurt and pain over the years. It had also taught her a very valuable lesson. Never to love or trust anyone again. It had been a painful lesson, one that had made her bitter and almost a recluse.

She was forty-two without a husband and children. She had planned for two, hopefully, a boy and a girl, and a happy ending, but that had not happened. Now her work was her sole focus.

Oh, she had been out on dates several times, but nothing meaningful. She had tried having an intimate relationship or two, but no one had been able to get past the barrier she had erected.

“You are allowing that bastard to win,” her best friend Babs said accusingly, and she was right. But after what she had gone through, Collette was not willing to open up her heart so that it could be shattered to pieces.

Her work was her therapy, and had become a panacea, and she thanked God that it was so fulfilling. She was at the top of her game and failing in love had made her ruthless in business.

Her clients received her very best because she was not encumbered by a family. At least, that’s what she told herself. She shied away from the term “old maid” and convinced herself that she was a career woman.

Men did this sort of thing all the time and they were not labeled in such a derogatory term. She was successful, had her own parking space, her home was lovely, and her clothes were immaculate. She did not need a man to validate her.

Most marriages ended in divorce anyway, and she had also convinced herself that if she had married Trevor, they would be on their way to the courthouse by now. She had dodged a rather large bullet.

Except for the yearning and emptiness inside her womb, she was fine. Except for the fact that whenever she happened to go to the park, she would find herself staring at a family with children, the yearning could not be ignored.

Other than that, she was fine. But her sister was not.

She noticed how ragged the sweater was that she had on. Collette was wearing designer threads. The emerald green sweater was cashmere and clung to her upper body, outlining a rather generous bosom.

She had paired it with a long velvet figure molding skirt that met the edge of her knee-high brown boots. Her thick dark brown hair was permed and styled in an elegant chignon at the nape of her neck. Diamond studs winked at her lobes, and her makeup was flawless, not that she needed any.

She wasn’t beautiful in the accepted sense, but she turned heads and noticed that when she stepped into the restaurant. Her watch was the latest smart style, beeping subtly now to remind her of the upcoming appointment.

“I am afraid I have five minutes left before I have to go.” Once, she had loved her younger sister blindly, looking past her faults and selfishness, but now, she felt nothing. “I am sorry to hear about your failed marriage, but I have no idea why you think I would be interested.”

Janice blinked at the tears. “I want my sister back.”

Years ago, those words would have warmed her and given her hope; now hearing them at last did nothing for her.

“I am not that forgiving Janice,” she said honestly. “It’s been almost ten years and yes, I am in a better place now, but what you and Trevor did scarred me and it’s something I am not able to forget.” She nodded and smiled at the hovering waiter, who came rushing forward.

“Delicious as usual, Antoine. Would you convey my compliments to Andre?” She fished out her company’s credit card and handed it to him. “Please take the usual tip.”

“Ms. Collette.” He beamed at her. “Thank you.”

She turned to see her sister watching her with a strange expression on her face.

“What is it?”

“You are very good at that.”

“At what?”

“Taking charge and making people feel as if you aren’t.” Janice pushed back her chair.

“I know it was a mistake coming here.”

“Then why did you?”

Gathering the coat she had not bothered to surrender to the waitress, Janice bobbed her head. “I wanted a fresh start, to see if my sister would find it in her heart to forgive me.” She heaved out a breath. “I am thirty-seven, and it’s as if my life has gone nowhere. I am about to be a divorcee with no prospects, no children, no home.

We have been living at Trevor’s leased townhouse since we got married, and he refused to let us buy a house of our own.

Now I know why.” She blinked at the tears and sniffed. “I hope that one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me and give me a second chance.”

“Not now.” Collette scribbled something on a sheet and rose. “I am not there yet. Take care of yourself.”

Janice nodded and, without another word, turned and walked away. Colette watched her exit, a bleak look marring her face. Dismissing her, picked up her oversized purse and made her way out. By the time she exited the foyer, the valet was rushing to retrieve her vehicle, and her sister was nowhere to be seen.

Sliding into the warm interior and plush leather seat of her BMW, Collette called for her favorite music while she made her way out of the parking lot. Very soon, she had merged into the uptown bottleneck. “Call Karen,” she instructed.

“Calling Karen,” the automated voice responded.

“I was about to call you.”

“Why?” She glanced at the dashboard clock. “I am not running late.”

“But your client is. He is stuck on the highway and asking if the meeting can be rescheduled.”

“What do I have now?”

“Just a conference call with Maitland.”

“Tell the client that’s fine. I am on my way.”

*****

In his private booth upstairs, music producer Richard McBride idly watched the scene play out. Dark green eyes took note of both women and his ability to read people had him thinking that there was something amiss between the two. They both bore a strong resemblance to each other for him to surmise that they were related.

His meetings had taxed both his patience and energy. He was forty-five years old, and dealing with fractious and spoiled celebrities was becoming tiresome, not to mention an unwelcome task.

He loved his work, God knows, he loved the challenge of taking a raw talent and turning it into something the listening public gravitated to. He had a gift, and far from being vain and patting himself on the back, he was facing facts.

But the last two meetings had been particularly exasperating and exhausting. The twenty-something-year-old singer was petulant and expected to be babied. That was not his style. He did not believe in coddling anyone. He had reminded the woman that she needed him more than how he needed her. In fact, he did not need her at all.

That had put a stop to the whining and querulous demands for more than he was prepared to give. She had then tried to seduce him, constantly touching his thigh beneath the table.

He had removed her hand, eyes chilled to an emerald-like quality. He had told her in no uncertain terms that he preferred to do the chasing and was not into bedding spoiled children.

That had effectively shut her down.

She had left in a huff in the middle of the luncheon meeting, which left him with a few minutes before his next appointment, one he was not looking forward to.

It was then he had noticed the two women. From his vantage point, he could see the entire first floor of the restaurant. He had a standard table, somewhere private to conduct his meetings. He was a celebrity of sorts and turned heads.

He always has people sidling up to him, slipping him a demo or a flash drive with something they had recorded for him to listen to with the hope that he was going to be interested.

His eyes passed from one woman to the next, lingering on the stylishly dressed one with the no-nonsense chignon at the nape of her neck.

Of the two, the slightly shabbily dressed one was prettier, even though the lines of dissatisfaction and unhappiness were etched between her nostrils. And even from where he was, he could see tears sparkling in his eyes.

A call came in just then and effectively dragged his attention from the scene, enacting in front of him. He had left specific instructions with his assistant that he was not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency. The name that came up on his LED had his anger and impatience melting away.

“I hope I am not disturbing you. That gay bastard you have guarding your corporate realm warned me not to disturb you.”

“As if you could.” A brief smile touched his sculpted mouth as he reached for his special brand of scotch. “Rodney is just following instructions. He knows that his job and his ass would be on the line if he screws up. How are you?”

“The chemo did me in. Rich, I am ready to call it quits.”

“You are not a quitter.” He idly noticed the well-dressed woman rising from the table and saying something to the other.

“I am beginning to feel like one.”

A frown settled on his brow. Lenny Bolt was an iconic name in the country and western genre and had been at the top of his game for years before a rather brutal bout of cancer had taken over and turned his life into a quagmire of pain, treatments, and rapid weight loss. The two men were the same age and had become fast friends.

Richard had discovered the soulful singer in a badly lit club exuding body odor and cloudy smoke. He had sat inside his stained booth, listening to the man croon about a love lost and a friend gained, and realized he had a rare talent.

That had been almost fifteen years ago when Richard was just starting out. He had broken away from the corporate world of business law that had been his family’s forte for more than a century and decided he wanted to do something other than practice law.

His father had been apoplectic with righteous indignation and rage, but Richard held his ground. William McBride had predicted dismal and absolute failure, of course. “Don’t come running back to me when that happens.”

Richard was determined to prove him wrong. He could not hold a note, and if he started singing, people would cover their ears and run for cover.

But he had an uncanny knack of rooting out talent. And molding the raw and turning it into something golden. He had won many awards and had some of the most successful singers in the industry. But even then, his father had never acknowledged his success.

He had inherited the law firm, and it was still operational. He would go several times a month to check in and sit in on the board meetings. His vast holdings include real estate, a fleet of cruise ships, and recording studios.

He was in his mid-forties and looked as trim as a man half his age. But that was not by chance; he had a fully functioning gym, and he jogged most mornings before he started to work.

His mouth tightened as he reflected on his friend’s dismal prognosis.

“I will not tolerate that negative energy from you. We are going to fight this son of a bitch, and that’s that.”

The man chuckled softly. “Leave it up to you to wax eloquent. But you effectively lifted my spirit. Listen, I have an idea for a new song.”

“Lay it on me.”

*****

His mother was unseasonably dressed in fur. Ruth McBride (she had reverted back to her first husband’s name after another failed marriage) was seventy-five years old, and good genes, as well as expensive body sculpting, made her appear twenty years younger.

She was ridiculously optimistic, and there wasn’t a mean bone in her body. Richard had inherited her coffee brown hair and emerald, green eyes, a throwback from her Irish origins.

And ever since her latest marriage had disintegrated, she was on another bend. Getting him married and giving her a grandchild. When she called and demanded she needed to see him, he resigned himself for another lecture.

“Darling, you look so tired,” she remarked as soon as the ma?tre d’ seated her, and placed her order for an aperitif. “You work too hard.”

“Is that why you ask to see me? To critique my appearance?” he asked her mildly. He could not be upset with her, not for long. She was endearing and strangely na?ve considering that she had been married so many times.

He was her only child, something she had always regretted. “The labor was long and laborious, and I almost lost my life. After that, the doctors advised against having another child. “I was born to be a mother, dear, and I would have been happy with even one more child.”

“I came because you have been avoiding me," she said reproachfully as she stared at him.

“You know why.” He picked up his drink and took a sip.

“Darling, I am almost seventy–”She stopped when his heavy coffee-brown brows quirked in amusement.

“You are as old as you feel or as you claim,” she muttered.

“Where did you read that? In Oprah’s magazine?”

“You know how I adore the dear woman," she clucked her tongue. “And the best birthday present you could have ever given me was a meeting with her. She is so sweet.” She accepted her drink with a smile before turning to her son.

“Darling, I read that you are no longer seeing that actress.” Her lips pursed. “I never really liked her, but–”

“We were not in a relationship,” he said firmly. “It was just physical between us.”

Her expression turned woeful, and he knew what was coming next. But before he could stop her, she launched into one of her apology speeches. “I failed you," she whispered huskily; her eyes bright with tears. “It’s my fault that you are like this, unmarried and childless.

I wish I could change things, darling.” Reaching across the table, she touched his hand. “I loved your father. He was not a very good husband, and father to you, but he had his moments and after he died, I tried to find that kind of love again. I want you to do the same.”

“And you also want grandchildren.” His smile was indulgent.

“Is that too hard to accomplish?”

“I am afraid it is.”