“I didn’t think I’d see you for another hour or two.”

“Escaped early.” He puts Tori down, glances around. “I see Jemma. Where’s Brooke?”

“Eating something somewhere,” I answer.

He nods and pushes a hand through his thick hair—I’m so glad he still has his hair. “I’m going to get a beer. Anybody want anything?” he asks my friends. “Kate? Patti? Monica?”

They all shake their heads, but I can see their eyes feasting on him. I can’t be jealous, either. Let’s face it: Nathan’s feastworthy. Six three, very broad shouldered, and with very nice abs. He works out daily, always has.

“How about you, darling girl?” he asks, turning to me. “Gin and tonic with lots of lime?”

I smile up at him. “I love you.”

“I know you do.”

I watch him walk away, thinking again that I’m so lucky that it sometimes makes me feel guilty, having so much. I certainly didn’t have any of this growing up. Growing up . . .

Growing up was a nightmare.

I shudder, push the thought away, telling myself to focus on the here and now. Everything’s good today. Everything’s great. And it’s not as if I just fell into this amazing life. I worked to get here, worked to make it happen. Now if only I could relax and enjoy it more.

“Oh, my God.” Monica leans forward, grabs Kate’s arm. “Lucy’s here.”

“What?”

Monica nods across the pool. “She’s just walked in, and she’s got the kids.”

Our heads all swivel toward the pool entrance, and Monica’s right. Lucy Wellsley is walking around the deep end of the pool, a beach tote bag over her shoulder, a stack of colorful striped towels in her arms as her three kids, two boys—fraternal twins—and a little girl, all run ahead.

“Should we invite her to join us?” Patti asks, glancing at me.

“I don’t know.” I mean, I feel bad for her, but infidelity? Affairs? This is bad. Really bad.

“She’s brave,” Kate mutters. “I wouldn’t show my face here.”

“Well, I don’t think we have to worry about extending an invitation,” Monica practically purrs. “Because Lucy’s on her way here now.”

Chapter Two

Lucy stands next to us, her arms still bundled around the thick stack of fuchsia and turquoise beach towels. “Hi,” she says brightly. Too brightly.

I feel for her, I do, especially as she has to know that everyone’s talking about her. God, what a nightmare.