by Nancy Warren
Lissa’s beater hadn’t suddenly turned into a sleek, fast, racing car in the few days it had spent parked in the apartment’s lot. If anything, it had developed a bad attitude. The car was more temperamental than she remembered.
Not much more than a week had passed since she’d left, sneaking out of her apartment before dawn and hitting the highway. Mile after mile the shock had settled to anger and then, finally, to grief.
There was still a big chunk of anger lodged in her throat, but the shock had passed and, since Nick had arrived, she’d forgotten all about grief.
She accepted there was sadness. Her life had been laid out in a clear path where she could look ahead and see milestones. They’d get married, buy the Carnarvons’ idea of a starter home. Ted’s career would flourish. She’d continue to raise funds for causes she cared about. They’d have children.
Maybe they’d move to a larger home, they’d send their children to the same schools Ted’s family’s children had attended since they stepped off the Mayflower. They would entertain clients. She’d even promised to take up golf.
Golf!
Now she felt as though a huge tree had fallen across her path. Or maybe a meteor had crashed in front of her, obliterating that clear path. She realized that she needed to climb over the obstacle and find a new path. She suspected she’d be bushwhacking, hacking her own way through the future. And she experienced a thrill as she realized she was more excited about this new life she could glimpse ahead than her previous one.
As she pulled into the outskirts of LA, slowed by the inevitable traffic volume, she felt like a different woman. Even though she’d worn sunscreen all week, her time at the beach had left her a little tanned. The sun had bleached her short hair to a much brighter blond and her muscles felt limber and strong from all the surfing.
As she told her students, you needed a lot of core strength for surfing. She felt as though she was a lot stronger at her core than she had been a week ago.
She called Lissa. Naturally, the dud-mobile was not equipped with Bluetooth so she pulled over for a stretch break and made the call.
“I’m back.”
“’Bout time. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” And she had. “Let’s get out for a girls’ night soon. But can I keep your car for another day or two?”
A husky chuckle met her words. “You’ll have to break my fingers off your steering wheel to get your car back.”
“So we’re good then.”
It was mid-afternoon when she pulled into her parking garage. Parking Lissa’s heap among the BMWs and Lincolns amused her no end. She hefted her bag up to her apartment, showered and then dressed in her best jeans and a peasant blouse. She applied her makeup with care and, as she gave herself a final, critical once over in the mirror, she realized that she liked her new look. She’d put on a little weight. She appeared more relaxed, more fun, and certainly healthier.
Everything was going to be fine, she promised herself.
She made lists of things she needed to do. Nick had been so right. She’d told Ted, his parents and her mother that she wasn't marrying him, and the only other people she’d told were Lissa and Nick. It was time for her to step up and start canceling things. She needed to let her friends know what was going on. And, she needed to start looking for a new job. Also, probably a cheaper apartment.
She started by making lists. Lists gave her focus, and things to check off so she could see she was making progress.
Much less than forty-eight hours after she’d called him, her PI got back to her with the information she wanted. “I’ve got an address,” he said. “And pictures.”
She shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. “All I want is the address.”
When she went to bed alone she felt bereft. But it wasn’t Ted she missed, it was Nick. In the short time they’d been together he’d become more important to her happiness than Ted had ever been.
But she couldn’t tell him. Not yet. She had some things to do first.
Chapter Fifteen