On the Rocks

Love Lies Beneath - Preview Excerpt, Chapter Two

Traffic tonight is the absolute worst. I arrive at the Marriott twenty minutes late, decide to go ahead and pay the exorbitant parking fee, and pull in to valet. A decent-looking young man (very young!) rushes to open the door for me, semidrooling. But whether that's because of my legs or my silver-over-midnight-blue Corvette, I re- ally can't say.

I hand him the keys. "You will take very good care of her, won't you? I don't want to smell hot engine." I pause for effect. "Unless it's yours."

He cocks his head sideways, confused. Then it hits him and he laughs, cheeks flushing a furious red. "H-h-here's your claim check," he stutters. "And I'll be careful with your car."

"I know you will." To be certain, I hand him a twenty.

The View Lounge is on the thirty-ninth floor. Cassandra is already here, and she's managed to score us a table by the immense spoked window overlooking downtown, all the way to the water. "You're late."

She is direct, and I like that. The last thing anyone needs is a backstabber in friend's clothing. Speaking of clothing, hers is ex- pensive. Impeccable. We frequent the same stores, preferring the sweet little boutiques on Chestnut or Fillmore to shopping-mall standards.

"Sorry. I got delayed at the gym, and traffic was unusually ugly." Cassandra sips her drink. "Delayed at the gym, or after?"
She and I actually met at that gym, and we chose it for similar

reasons.
Cassandra was in the middle of a divorce and looking for no-

strings play. When the dissolution was finalized, she moved to Pa

cific Heights and found a new place to work out, closer to home. The trainers, she tells me, are equally qualified. "Hold that thought. I need one of those." I nod toward her drink and then signal a nearby waiter. "Blood-orange sidecar, please."

As I wait for my drink, I give her the lowdown on Nick, Penelope, and his possible others. I don't inform her that when I got home I called the gym twice. The first time, I canceled my membership, due to inappropriate behavior on the part of my trainer. The second, I asked to talk to the yoga instructor. Our conversation did not include class times.

"Ah well," I finish as the sidecar arrives. "Nick was spectacular in bed, but not exactly husband material."

Cassandra looks at me incredulously. "Surely you're not in the market for another husband?"

"Why not?" I take a long swallow of deliciousness, which burns just enough to remind me my stomach is empty. "Hey, are you hungry? I haven't eaten a thing since breakfast, and then it was only gra- nola and yogurt."