Previously…

Ten months in the future, Miranda enjoyed a romantic Caribbean honeymoon with a mysterious man named Christian Hargrove. Back in the present, the Blackthornes struggled with the aftermath of the devastating wildfires. Consumed by guilt over her false testimony against Nico, Miranda resolved to tell Carlo the truth. Carlo refused to accept Nico’s presumed death, while Mickey grew closer to Suzanne, secretly concealing evidence that Lara’s fatal shooting had been accidental. David returned to discover that Moonshadows had been destroyed. Brett and Sharon plotted a future together, but Sharon suggested murdering Carlo, unaware that he already knew about their affair. Meanwhile, Stormy and Jane enjoyed their newborn daughter, while Riley struggled with fatherhood and received an unexpected visit from his mother, Jodi. Unbeknownst to them, Stormy and Jane’s daughter had been switched with Riley’s baby at the hospital. When Miranda secretly left for the Bravetti estate, James and David raced to stop her from revealing the truth.

_______________________

The midday sun shone brightly over the courtyard apartment complex in West Hollywood where a handful of residents were lounging around the sparkling swimming pool. Steve Albani emerged from his ground-floor apartment, shirtless and wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. At thirty-two, Steve was a handsome Italian-American with thick dark hair, rugged good looks, and a muscular physique that he worked hard to maintain. This morning, however, his usual confident demeanor had been replaced by a pounding headache and a nagging suspicion that he’d done something incredibly stupid the night before.

He squinted against the sunlight and raised his car key fob in the air, repeatedly pressing the lock button.

Nothing.

“Come on, you piece of crap,” he muttered.

He moved farther into the courtyard, stretching his arm toward the parking lot beyond the building. After several more attempts, a faint chirp finally sounded from outside.

Steve lowered his arm and sighed with relief. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

At least he’d gotten his car home. After the amount of drinking he’d done the night before, he couldn’t remember much of anything after leaving the bar, let alone how he’d made it back to his apartment.

“Steve!”

He turned at the sound of his name and saw Mickey Donovan entering the courtyard through the gate.

“Mickey. Hey, man.”

Mickey approached him, dressed casually in slacks and a form fitting Gucci polo. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

“Nah. Just trying to figure out what the hell I did last night.” Steve glanced down at his boxer shorts and grinned sheepishly. “Wasn’t exactly expecting company.”

Mickey managed a faint smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

Steve’s expression turned serious. “Listen, I heard about Nico. I’m really sorry, man. I couldn’t believe it when I found out.”

“Thanks. We appreciate that.”

“It’s awful. He was a good boss. I really liked working for him.”

Mickey nodded. “Which is actually why I’m here.”

Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, with Nico gone, somebody’s got to keep Corso running. My father’s got enough on his plate right now, and frankly, I don’t have the time to deal with the day-to-day operations.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

“So I was wondering if you’d be willing to do the family a favor and step up as manager. Take over the place and keep things running the way Nico would’ve wanted.”

Steve stared at him. “Me?”

“Why not? You’ve been there long enough. You know the staff, you know the customers, and Nico thought highly of you.”

A broad grin spread across Steve’s face. “Wow.” He laughed in disbelief. “Yeah. Absolutely. I’d love to.”

“Good.” Mickey smiled and gave him a firm pat on the back. “I’ll have somebody get in touch with you about the details. In the meantime, consider yourself the new manager of Corso.”

“Thanks, Mickey. Seriously. I won’t let you down.”

They shook hands, and Mickey started back toward the gate.

Steve was about to head back inside when the door of the neighboring apartment opened.

Jodi Fletcher stepped out, wearing a short pair of denim shorts and a snug pink tank top. After bending down to pick up the newspaper, she paused when she spotted Steve standing in the courtyard wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. Her eyes traveled appreciatively over his muscular chest and stomach before returning to his face.

“Well, good morning,” she said with a playful smile.

Steve turned, momentarily caught off guard by the sight of the attractive blonde standing just a few feet away. “Morning.”

Jodi tilted her head. “Don’t tell me this is how everybody dresses around here.”

Steve laughed. “Only before I’ve had my coffee.”

“Well, I certainly won’t complain.”

He grinned, giving her an equally appreciative once-over. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“No, we haven’t.” She stepped closer and extended her hand. “Jodi Fletcher.”

“Steve Albani.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve.”

“Likewise. You a friend of Riley’s?”

Jodi laughed. “Actually, I’m his mother. And a very hot one at that, if I do say so myself.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re Riley’s mom?”

“The one and only.”

“Wow. I never would’ve guessed.”

Jodi laughed. “What’s so surprising about that?”

Steve shook his head, smiling. “Nothing. It’s just… wow. You must’ve had him when you were like twelve.”

“Eighteen, actually.”

“Well, you sure don’t look old enough to have a kid his age.”

Jodi beamed. “Aren’t you sweet?”  She looked him over again, making little effort to conceal her interest. “So, Steve, do you live here too?”

“Right here, actually,” he said while pointing to his door.

Jodi glanced toward his apartment. “Well, isn’t that convenient.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

For a moment, neither spoke. Their eyes lingered on one another a little longer than necessary.

Finally, Steve smiled. “Well, I’d better get dressed.”

She gave him another look up and down. “If you have to,” she said playfully, then turned and went back to her door before glancing back over her shoulder. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around, neighbor.”

Steve smiled broadly. “Looking forward to it.”

Jodi returned his smile before disappearing back inside with the newspaper.

“Riley’s mother,” Steve muttered to himself, shaking his head in amazement.

Then he turned and headed back into his apartment, suddenly feeling considerably better about the day ahead.

_______________________

The imposing gates of the Bravetti estate swung open as Miranda’s car made its way up the long, winding driveway. She stared through the windshield at the magnificent Mediterranean-style mansion, feeling her stomach tighten with every passing second.

Twice during the drive, she’d nearly turned around. The thought of facing Carlo Bravetti terrified her, but she couldn’t continue living with what she’d done to Nico. His family deserved to know the truth, even if it meant facing the consequences herself.

After parking near the entrance, she climbed out of the car and approached the front door. Before she could ring the bell, Bruno opened it.

“Miranda Blackthorne?” he asked in surprise.

“I need to see Mr. Bravetti.”

He hesitated, then stepped aside. “Wait here.”

A few minutes later, Miranda was shown into Carlo’s study, where the aging mobster sat behind his enormous mahogany desk. He looked up when she entered, his expression changing from surprise to curiosity.

“Well, well. Miranda Blackthorne. This is unexpected.”

Miranda simply stood before him.

He gestured toward a chair. “Please. Sit down.”

Miranda reluctantly took a seat across from him.

For a moment, Carlo studied her. “I must say, I’m surprised you’d come here after everything that’s happened. I understand you and your daughter were fortunate to escape that terrible fire. I’m glad Nico got there in time to help.”

Miranda looked at him, surprised by his sincerity. “You are?”

“And before you say anything else,” he continued, “there’s something I want you to know. What Destiny did to you and your daughter was unforgivable. Whatever grievances she believed she had against your family, she had no right to involve an innocent child.”

Miranda lowered her eyes.

“I want to apologize for her actions,” Carlo continued. “She was my wife once, and she was Nico’s mother, but I had nothing to do with what happened at that winery.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?” he asked. “Because I know what people think of me, Miranda. And much of it may be deserved. But I would never have sanctioned something like that.”

Miranda nodded quietly.

Carlo’s expression grew somber. “And now my Nico is missing. Perhaps dead. My men have searched everywhere, but there’s no sign of him.”

“I’m so sorry,” Miranda whispered.

“He spent twenty-five years in prison,” Carlo said bitterly. “Twenty-five years of his life taken away. And now, when he’d finally gotten his freedom back…” He stopped, visibly struggling with his emotions.

Miranda felt tears gathering in her eyes. “Mr. Bravetti, here’s something I need to tell you,” she said.

Carlo looked at her. “What’s that?”

“It’s about Nico. About the trial.”

His expression hardened slightly. “What about it?”

Miranda clasped her trembling hands together. “When Nico went to prison, I…”

Suddenly, voices erupted outside the study.

“Where is she?” came the sound of her father’s demanding voice.

Miranda turned toward the door just as it swung open. James entered, followed closely by Eddie and David. Bruno hurried in behind them.

“Mr. Bravetti, I tried to stop them—”

“That’s quite all right, Bruno,” Carlo said, rising slowly from his chair.

James spotted his daughter and immediately crossed the room. “Miranda, you have to come with us.”

“Daddy? What are you doing here?”

“Trying to keep you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”

Carlo frowned. “What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing that concerns you, Bravetti,” James replied sharply, taking Miranda by the arm.

“Excuse me?” Carlo’s expression darkened. “You’re in my home, James. I think I’ll decide what concerns me.”

David stepped forward. “Miranda, come on.”

Then Eddie approached his wife. “Babe, come on. Let’s go.”

Miranda pulled away. “No! I’m not finished.”

James turned toward her. “Miranda, that’s enough.”

“But daddy—”

“Now!”

Carlo watched the exchange with growing suspicion. “Finished with what?” he asked. “Your daughter came here to tell me something about Nico.”  He looked directly at Miranda. “Isn’t that right?”

Miranda’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Well?” Carlo demanded. “What is it?”

For several agonizing seconds, Miranda looked from Carlo to her father, then to Eddie. She could see the fear in her husband’s eyes.

Finally, James spoke. “Miranda came here because she’s upset about what happened at the winery. She’s been blaming herself for Nico’s disappearance.”

Carlo frowned. “Blaming herself?”

“She’s been through a terrible ordeal,” Eddie added quickly. “She’s exhausted, and she’s not thinking clearly.”

“That’s not true,” Miranda protested.

“Babe, please,” Eddie said, taking her hand.

Carlo studied her carefully. “Miranda, is there something else you wanted to tell me?”

Miranda looked at the old man one last time. “Just that I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

Carlo nodded, assuming she meant about Nico. “Thank you, my dear.”

Eddie gently guided her toward the door, with David following close behind. James lingered for a moment.

Carlo regarded him suspiciously. “You know, James, I’ve known you a very long time. And I know when you’re hiding something.”

James held his gaze. “We’re all dealing with a lot right now.”

“Indeed we are.”

Without another word, James turned and left the study.

Carlo remained standing behind his desk, watching the doorway long after they’d gone.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that Miranda Blackthorne had come to tell him something important. And whatever it was, James had been determined to keep her from saying it.

_______________________

Riley emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, his damp hair tousled from the shower. He made his way into the kitchen where he searched for his watch. When he found it, he glanced at the time, sighed, and strapped it onto his wrist.

Jodi was sprawled across the living room sofa, flipping through a magazine while Madison slept peacefully in her bassinet nearby.

“Oh, by the way,” she said casually. “I just met your neighbor.”

Riley took a sip of coffee. “Which one?”

“Steve.”

Riley groaned. “Oh, Christ.”

Jodi looked up. “What’s wrong with him? He seemed perfectly nice to me.”

“Yeah, well, you would think that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, Mom.”

“Well, so what’s your problem with the guy?”

He sighed and opened the refrigerator. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that he slept with Natalie, moved her into his apartment right next door, and basically became a thorn in my side for the better part of a year. Other than that, he’s a swell guy.”

Jodi made a face. “Well, I always knew that Natalie was a slut.”

Riley turned sharply. “Mom, knock it off.”

“What? I’m just saying.”

“Well, don’t. Things between Natalie and me were complicated enough without you getting into it.”

Jodi shrugged and returned to her magazine. “Fine. I won’t say another word.”

Riley glanced at the clock again. “Anyway, I’m running late. I’ve got a table read at the studio this morning.”

Jodi immediately brightened. “Oh, that’s right! My little movie star!”

“Mom…”

“I’m serious, Riley. I can’t believe my son is starring in a real Hollywood movie.” She grinned. “Although I still don’t know how I feel about you playing a known rapist.”

Riley sighed. “It’s an acting job, Mom.”

“I know, but couldn’t they have cast you as something a little nicer? A doctor, maybe? Or a handsome young lawyer?”

“Because that’s not what the movie’s about.”

“Well, I just hope people don’t start thinking you’re like that in real life.”

Riley rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart. You know that.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He took a few gulps of milk straight from the carton, placed it back in the refrigerator,  and glanced at Madison sleeping in her bassinet. Again, he looked at his watch.  “Anyway, I need to drop Madison off at the daycare center on my way in. I’ll be home late so don’t wait up.”

Jodi stared at him. “Riley, don’t be ridiculous. A daycare center? That’s why I’m here.”

He looked at her skeptically. “You?”

“Yes, me. Her grandmother.”

“I thought you had some hot date lined up with your internet boyfriend.”

Jodi waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. That can wait.”

Riley raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Of course! Besides, she’s been an absolute angel all morning.”

“That’s because she’s asleep.”

Jodi got up from the sofa and approached him. “Riley Dean Weir, I raised you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, and look how I turned out.”

She laughed. “Oh, stop it. Don’t you trust me?”

Riley hesitated. “Mom, it’s not that…”

“Then what is it?”

He looked from his mother to the sleeping infant, weighing his options. Finally, he sighed. “All right. Fine.”

Jodi smiled triumphantly. “See? Was that so difficult?”

“But no leaving her alone. No bringing strange guys over here. And absolutely no taking her anywhere without calling me first.”

Jodi rolled her eyes. “You’re the boss.”

“I’m serious, Mom.”

“So am I. Now go get dressed before you’re late for your big Hollywood debut.”

“It’s a table read, not a premiere.”

“Whatever. Go!”

Riley shook his head and headed toward the bedroom.

Jodi returned to the sofa and glanced lovingly at Madison, who stirred briefly in her bassinet before settling back to sleep.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” she cooed. “Grandma’s going to take very good care of you.”

_______________________

The fashionable boutiques along Rodeo Drive were bustling with shoppers that afternoon, the devastation of the wildfires seemingly forgotten among the designer handbags, expensive jewelry, and racks of imported clothing. Inside one of the street’s most exclusive boutiques, Renee Merteuil was examining a beautiful silk blouse.

Renee was an elegant, sophisticated black woman of sixty-two whose impeccable taste and commanding presence suited her position as CEO of Merteuil Industries.

As she held the blouse up for a closer look, a familiar voice caught her attention.

“Renee? Renee Merteuil?”

She turned and found herself face-to-face with a strikingly beautiful black woman in her mid-fifties dressed in an expensive designer pantsuit.

For a moment, Renee stared at the woman in disbelief. “Oh, my god!” she exclaimed. “Yvette!”

The two women embraced warmly, laughing as they pulled apart to examine one another.

“Look at you!” Renee exclaimed. “You haven’t changed a bit!”

“Oh, please,” Yvette Caldwell replied. “You’re just as gorgeous as ever yourself.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you since my wedding to Kenny.”

“Girl, I know! It’s been entirely too long.”

Renee sighed.  “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Well, a lot’s happened since then, hasn’t it?”

Renee laughed. “Honey, you don’t know the half of it!”

“Well, well. Isn’t this cozy?”

Both women turned to find Alex Reynolds approaching from across the boutique. She carried several shopping bags, having spent much of the afternoon replacing the designer wardrobe she’d lost when the wildfires destroyed her and Jordan’s Beverly Hills home.

Renee’s smile immediately disappeared. “Alex.”

“Renee. Fancy running into you here.” Alex glanced at the blouse in Renee’s hands. “Shopping for a new wardrobe? Goodness knows I certainly have to.”

“Yes, I heard about your house,” Renee replied. “Such a shame.”

“Oh, it was dreadful,” Alex said with a dramatic sigh. “A lifetime of beautiful things, gone just like that.” She looked Renee up and down. “You know, you really should consider replacing your wardrobe too.”

Renee frowned. “Why would I? I didn’t lose anything in the fire.”

“Oh, I know, darling,” Alex replied sweetly. “But you could still use a new wardrobe.”

Yvette raised an eyebrow.

“How very thoughtful of you, Alex,” Renee replied icily.

“Oh, don’t mention it.” Alex smiled. “Although I suppose clothes are the least of your worries these days.”

Renee folded her arms. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, your personal life has been rather unfortunate, hasn’t it?” Alex pretended to think for a moment. “Whatever happened to your husband T.T., anyway?”

Renee’s expression hardened.

“Oh, that’s right,” Alex exclaimed. “He left you for a woman half your age. How could I have forgotten?”

“Alex, I suggest you—”

“Still, I suppose there’s hope for everyone.” Alex offered a condescending smile. “Even you.”

Renee stared at her, furious.

“Anyway, do excuse me, ladies. I’ve got an entire closet to replace.”

With that, Alex sauntered toward the other side of the boutique where a sales associate was waiting to show her a selection of designer dresses.

For several seconds, Renee and Yvette stood in stunned silence.

“Who in the hell was that?” the younger woman finally asked.

Renee exhaled sharply. “Alex Reynolds. And believe me, she’s every bit as unpleasant as she seems.”

“Well, she certainly has some nerve.”

“She’s been a thorn in my side for two decades.”

Yvette watched Alex browsing through a display of handbags, her expression darkening. “Oh, really?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, somebody ought to knock her down a peg or two.”

Renee gave a dismissive wave. “Forget about her. She’s not worth the aggravation.”

But her friend wasn’t quite ready to let it go.

As Renee turned her attention back to the clothing rack, Yvette glanced toward a nearby display of expensive leather accessories. A small designer wallet caught her eye, its price tag displaying an amount that would make most people gasp. She picked it up and examined it casually.

Across the boutique, Alex had set her shopping bag on an upholstered bench while she inspected a dress being held up by a sales associate.

Yvette made her way toward the handbags, pretending to browse as she approached Alex. When the actress turned toward a mirror to inspect the dress, Yvette casually passed behind the bench and slipped the leather wallet into Alex’s open shopping bag undetected.

When Yvette returned to Renee’s side, Renee couldn’t suppress a giggle.

“You’re terrible!” she whispered.

Yvette gave an innocent shrug. “What? I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, please! I saw the whole thing.”

“Well, maybe Miss Thing will learn to keep that nasty mouth of hers shut.”

Renee shook her head in amusement. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“And neither have you, honey.” Yvette linked her arm through Renee’s. “Now, where were we?”

“I believe you were about to tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself all these years.”

“Oh, honey, have I got some stories for you!”

Together, they headed toward the front of the boutique, leaving Alex admiring herself in the mirror, completely unaware of the expensive merchandise hidden in her shopping bag.

_______________________

The front door of the Blackthorne mansion flew open as Miranda stormed into the foyer, followed closely by James, Eddie, and David.

“I cannot believe you did that!” James exclaimed, slamming the door behind him. “What in god’s name were you thinking?”

Miranda spun around. “Excuse me for trying to do the right thing!”

“The right thing?” Eddie repeated incredulously. “Miranda, you walked into Carlo Bravetti’s house and practically handed him a reason to come after you!”

“I didn’t tell him anything!”

“Only because we got there in time,” James snapped. “Do you have any idea what that man is capable of?”

“Yes, Daddy! I know perfectly well what he’s capable of!”

“Then why the hell would you go there?” David demanded. “After what Destiny did to you and Tiger, you’d think you’d want to stay as far away from that family as possible.”

Miranda threw up her hands. “Because I can’t just pretend none of this happened! Nico spent twenty-five years in prison because of me, and now he’s dead! Don’t you understand that?”

“We understand perfectly,” Eddie replied angrily. “But putting a target on your back isn’t going to undo what’s happened.”

“Like I just got done saying,” Miranda began, “I was trying to take responsibility and do the right thing.”

Eddie’s frustration finally boiled over. “Well, the right thing would’ve been to tell the truth on the witness stand in the first place!”

The words struck Miranda like a slap. She stared at her husband, visibly wounded. Then her eyes filled with tears. “You’re right,” she whispered.

“Miranda, I didn’t—”

“No. You’re absolutely right, Eddie. I should’ve told the truth.” She turned and hurried toward the staircase.

“Miranda!” Eddie called after her.

But she was already climbing the stairs, refusing to look back.

Eddie closed his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “Dammit.”

James glanced toward the staircase. “I’ll go talk to her,” he said and started upstairs, leaving Eddie and David alone in the foyer.

Eddie rubbed his face with both hands. “Jesus Christ. What the hell is wrong with me?”

“You’re upset,” David said.

“Yeah, well, that’s no excuse,” Eddie said and headed to the door. “I need some air.”

Just then, Ethan emerged from James’s study, a folder tucked beneath his arm. He stopped when he spotted David. “Well, look who it is.”

David turned. “Ethan.”

The two men exchanged a restrained handshake. There had never been much warmth between them, particularly during the years when they’d competed for Brooke Taylor’s affections. Even after the shocking revelation that David and Brooke were half-siblings, the old rivalry had never entirely disappeared.

“What brings you to town?” Ethan asked.

“Checking on Tiger and Miranda. And I had some business to take care of at Moonshadows.” David shrugged. “Or what’s left of it.”

“Yeah, I heard. Sorry.”

“Thanks.” David glanced around the foyer. “So, how’s Brooke?”

“She’s fine,” Ethan replied. “Better than fine, actually. The new business is really taking off.”

“I’ve heard.” David smiled faintly. “Who would’ve thought? From selling makeup at the Sherman Oaks Galleria to owning her own cosmetics empire.”

“She’s worked hard for it.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. She’s always had ambition.” David paused. “I see a lot of Royce in her.”

Ethan nodded. “She definitely inherited his business instincts.”

“And probably his stubbornness too.”

Ethan managed a small laugh. “You have no idea.”

For a moment, the two men stood in an awkward silence.

“So,” David asked, “how long are you sticking around?”

“Not sure. I originally came out to help Miranda wind down the agency. Figured I’d stay until things calmed down a little.”

David looked toward the staircase where Miranda had disappeared moments earlier. Then he smirked. “Do things ever calm down around here?”

Ethan laughed dryly. “Not that I can remember.”

“Some things never change.”

“No,” Ethan agreed. “I guess they don’t.”

_______________________

The steady hum of a Peloton bike filled the spacious home gym at the Bravetti estate. Dressed in a black athletic shirt and shorts, Carlo pedaled at a brisk pace, his silver hair damp with perspiration. At seventy-five, he remained remarkably fit, maintaining a strict exercise routine despite his advancing years.

Dennis entered the gym and waited until Carlo noticed him.

“Well?” Carlo asked, slowing his pace. “Where did she go?”

“You were right, boss. She went straight to Armstrong’s place this morning. Stayed a couple of hours. Just left a little while ago.”

Carlo’s expression darkened. His hands tightened around the handlebars as he absorbed the news. For several seconds, he continued pedaling in silence. Then he brought the bike to a stop, unclipped his shoes, and reached for a towel.

“Dennis, I’d like you to pay Mr. Armstrong a visit.”

Dennis nodded. “You want me to bring him here?”

“Nothing so dramatic.” Carlo wiped his face with the towel. “Simply extend an invitation. I’d like the pleasure of his company tonight at dinner.”

Dennis hesitated. “Dinner?”

“Eight o’clock. Tell him we’ll be expecting him.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Dennis said, turned and left the gym.

Carlo stood beside the bike, staring at his reflection in the wall of mirrors. His expression remained calm, but his anger was unmistakable.

He draped the towel around his neck and reached for his water bottle. “Enjoy yourself while you can, Mr. Armstrong,” he murmured.

_______________________

Brett and Heather stepped away from a hot dog vendor at a waterfront park in Marina del Rey. Around them, cyclists cruised along the paved pathways, joggers passed in both directions, and families gathered near the water to watch the sailboats gliding through the marina. Unwrapping their hot dogs, they fell into step beside one another.

“Sounds like this whole thing with Nico has really done a number on Miranda,” Brett said.

Heather nodded. “The guilt is eating her alive. I don’t know how she’s going to get over it.”

Brett glanced at her. “What about you two? Are things going to be okay?”

“I think so. She apologized for the way she’s been lashing out at me.”

“That’s good. Miranda can be pretty vicious when she wants to be.”

They strolled past a group of cyclists as Brett took another bite of his hot dog. “Well,” he said, “I guess we’re both officially unemployed now.”

Heather smiled. “Seems that way. So what have you been doing with all your free time?”

“Oh, you know. Sleeping late, going to the beach. Keeping busy.”

He grinned, and Heather immediately caught on.

“Oh, ok. Who is she?”

Brett blinked innocently. “Who?”

“Don’t give me that. I know that look.”

“What look?”

Heather gave him a playful shove. “The one that says you’re both on top of the world and about to jump off it at the same time.”

Brett laughed, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”

“To me? Absolutely.” She studied him and gave a thoughtful pause. “Do you love her?”

His expression softened. “Yeah. I really do.”

“Wow. I haven’t seen you like this in a long time.”

“I haven’t felt like this in a long time, either.” He paused. “Hey, I’m sorry. Does this make you feel weird? Talking about another woman?”

Heather frowned. “Why would it?”

“Well, it wasn’t that long ago we got stuck in that elevator together, and…” He grinned sheepishly. “One thing sort of led to another.”

Heather laughed. “Oh, no. I’d almost forgotten about that,” she lied.

“Almost?”

“Relax, Brett. We’re grown-ups. Besides, I don’t regret it.”

“Neither do I.”

They continued walking, stopping briefly to watch a sailboat glide across the water.

“So why do you still look so worried?” Heather asked.

Brett’s smile faded. For a moment, he was back in his Venice home, hearing Sharon calmly suggest that the only way they could ever be together was if he killed Carlo. The memory still stunned him. He loved Sharon more than he’d ever loved anyone, but the thought of actually murdering her husband was something he hadn’t been able to get out of his head.

He quickly pushed the thought aside. “It’s complicated,” he said.

“How complicated?”

He hesitated. “She’s married.”

Heather stopped walking. “Oh, Brett,” she sighed. “You really do have a talent for getting yourself into trouble, don’t you?”

“Apparently.”

“Does her husband know?”

“No.”

Heather shook her head. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Brett gazed out across the marina before looking back at her. “I honestly don’t care, Heather. She’s worth it.”

She studied him for a moment. “Well, I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“So do I.”

And for once, Brett wasn’t at all sure that he did.

_______________________

After they said their goodbyes near the entrance to the park, Brett headed toward the parking lot, fishing his car keys from his pocket. He was approaching his car when a large, muscular man stepped out from between two parked SUVs.

“Hello, Brett.”

Brett stopped in his tracks. “Dennis.”

He knew Dennis all too well as one of the Bravetti’s henchmen. Seeing him here couldn’t possibly mean anything good.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Dennis held up his hands. “Relax. I’m just here to extend an invitation.”

“An invitation?”

“From Mr. Bravetti. The big boss.”

Brett felt his stomach tighten. Carlo? Had he found out about him and Sharon? He’d known they were taking a risk, but surely Carlo couldn’t have discovered the affair already.

“What does he want with me?”

Dennis shrugged. “He’d like you to come to dinner tonight. Eight o’clock at the estate.”

“Dinner?” Brett repeated suspiciously.

“That’s what I said.”

“What’s this about?”

“You can ask him yourself.”

Brett glanced around the parking lot, then back at Dennis. “And what if I have other plans?”

Dennis smiled faintly. “I’d cancel them.” He gave Brett a friendly pat on the shoulder before walking away.

Brett stood motionless beside his car, watching Dennis disappear between the rows of vehicles. He’d dealt with enough threats from the Bravettis to know this was no ordinary dinner invitation. Carlo was summoning him.

And Brett had a sickening feeling he knew exactly why.

_______________________

At Sunset Studios, Riley made his way through the production offices of American Star, carrying a script and a latte from Javista. The usually busy suite was unusually quiet, with empty desks and a conference room that showed no signs of the table read he’d been expecting.

He found Stormy seated behind his desk, studying a production schedule. “Hey, Stormy. Where is everybody?”

Stormy looked up. “Good question. Keaton’s still stuck in Santa Barbara with Kelly and Phoebe, so we’ve had to push the table read.”

“Still?” Riley frowned. “I’ve been trying to get hold of Phoebe. I was beginning to think she was giving me the brush-off.”

Stormy leaned back in his chair. “You two getting serious?”

“I thought we were.” Riley shrugged. “But lately I’ve been getting the feeling there’s somebody else in the picture.”

“Well, whatever’s going on up there, I wish they’d hurry up and figure it out. Thanks to our fearless director, we’re already falling behind on our pre-production schedule.”

Riley took a seat across from him. “So what’s the plan?”

“We’ll reschedule the read when Keaton gets back. But listen, I need to make sure you’re available evenings and weekends if necessary. We may have to put in some extra hours to catch up.”

“Yeah, about that.” Riley shifted uncomfortably. “I sort of just became a dad, so I’m still figuring out the whole childcare situation. I’ll make it work, though.”

Stormy stared at him in surprise. “Wait a minute. Did I miss something?”

Riley grinned sheepishly. “It’s a long story.”

“Apparently!”

“Suffice it to say an old… girlfriend sort of left me in the lurch. Showed up with a baby she claimed was mine. I had a DNA test done, and sure enough, it confirmed I was the father. So now I’m the one changing diapers at three in the morning.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Her name’s Madison Rose. She’s just a few weeks old.”

Stormy shook his head in amazement. “Wow. Well, congratulations! Jane and I have our hands full with Caroline, and there’s two of us. I can’t imagine doing it on my own.”

“Believe me, I had no idea what I was getting into. One minute I’m worrying about nailing the opening monologue of the film, and the next I’m standing in a grocery store trying to figure out which diapers to buy.”

Stormy laughed. “Tell me about it. I spent twenty minutes the other night trying to put together a baby swing. Jane finally asked if she needed to call somebody.”

“At least you got yours put together. I gave up halfway through a changing table yesterday.”

They both laughed.

“So, Madison Rose, huh?” Stormy said. “Pretty name.”

“Thanks. She’s beautiful, too. When she’s not screaming her head off.” Riley grinned. “It’s funny, though. I barely know what I’m doing, but the minute I pick her up and she looks at me, nothing else seems all that important.”

Stormy nodded knowingly. “I know exactly what you mean. The other night, Caroline fell asleep on my chest, and I sat there for an hour because I didn’t want to wake her.”

“Look at us,” Riley laughed. “Two Hollywood guys sitting around talking about diapers and babies.”

“Five years ago, I’d have laughed if somebody told me this was how I’d be spending my Friday nights.”

“Same here.”

“Do you have anybody helping you?” Stormy asked.

“Actually, my mom just came to town. She’s staying with me and helping out with Madison. Thank god, because I was starting to lose my mind.”

“Good. You’re going to need the help once we start shooting.”

“Yeah, that’s what worries me. This movie’s a huge opportunity, and I don’t want anybody thinking I’m not committed. But I don’t want to be one of those dads who’s never around, either.”

“Listen, Riley, this business will take every minute of your life if you let it. But our little girls aren’t going to stay little forever. We’ll work around your schedule as much as we can.”

“I really appreciate that.”

“Besides, Caroline could use a friend her own age. Maybe we ought to get the girls together sometime.”

Riley smiled. “I’d like that.”

Stormy picked up his phone. “Here, Jane just sent me a picture of Caroline.”

He turned the screen toward Riley, who smiled at the sight of the newborn bundled in a pink blanket.

“Aw, she’s adorable. Hold on, I’ve got one of Madison.”

A moment later, the two men were comparing pictures of their daughters.

Riley laughed as he got to his feet. “Well, I’d better get home. Mom’s watching Madison, but I promised I’d be back this afternoon.”

“Go ahead. I’ll let you know when we reschedule the read. And Riley?”

“Yeah?”

“Us girl dads have to stick together.”

Riley grinned. “You got that right.”

As Riley headed for the door, Stormy glanced back at the production schedule.

“Of course, if our illustrious director doesn’t get his ass back here soon, we may both be bringing our daughters to work.”

“Hey, at least they’d be better behaved than half the people around here,” Riley replied with a laugh.

_______________________

Jordan stood impatiently outside the Los Angeles Police Department’s downtown headquarters, glancing at his watch for the third time in as many minutes. When Alex finally emerged through the glass doors, he immediately marched toward her.

“Well, this is just terrific!” he exclaimed. “Absolutely terrific!”

Alex adjusted the strap of her designer handbag. “Oh, Jordan, please. I’ve had a perfectly dreadful afternoon without you starting in on me.”

“You’ve had a dreadful afternoon? Alex, I have a studio to run! Ever since I fired Brett, I’ve had nobody to oversee day-to-day operations at Rydell Productions. I’m up to my neck in work, and you drag me all the way downtown to bail you out of jail!”

“Would you lower your voice?” Alex hissed, looking around. “People are staring.”

“Good! Maybe they’ll recognize you from your mug shot!”

“Jordan!”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Shoplifting, Alex?”

“I did not shoplift anything!”

“Then how did a fifteen-hundred-dollar leather wallet end up in your shopping bag?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea! I’ve told you that a dozen times! I was trying on dresses, and the next thing I knew, some security guard was accusing me of stealing!”

Jordan sighed and started toward his car. Alex hurried after him.

“Honestly, the humiliation! They marched me into a little room in front of everyone! And then they brought me down here as though I were some common criminal!”

“Well, fortunately, I happen to know the boutique’s owner. Victoria Pembroke and I have been friends for years. Otherwise, you’d still be sitting in there waiting for a lawyer.”

Alex stopped. “You spoke to Victoria?”

“Yes. She agreed to drop the complaint after I assured her it was a misunderstanding.”

“Well, thank god somebody has some sense.”  She folded her arms. “I still don’t understand how that wallet got into my bag.”

Jordan opened the passenger door of his Porsche. “Maybe you picked it up and forgot about it.”

Alex glared at him. “Do you seriously think I would steal a wallet? I lost a house full of designer clothes, Jordan. A wallet is a drop in the bucket. “

“Then somebody must have put it there.”

“Precisely!”

Jordan paused. “Did you happen to see anyone you knew at the boutique?”

Alex considered the question. “As a matter of fact, yes. Renee Merteuil was there, carrying on with some friend of hers.”

Jordan gave her a weary look. “Please tell me you didn’t start something with Renee.”

“I merely said hello.”

“Alex.”

“All right, so we exchanged a few words. But that’s hardly a crime.”

“Apparently, neither is shoplifting, provided you know the right people.”

Alex shot him a penetrating stare before climbing into the car.

Jordan closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side, muttering under his breath.

Inside, Alex stared through the windshield, replaying the encounter at the boutique. She remembered Renee’s smug expression, and the unfamiliar woman standing beside her. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed.

“That bitch.”

Jordan slid behind the wheel. “What now?”

Alex turned toward him. “I think I know exactly how that wallet got into my bag.”

“Alex, don’t start.”

But Alex was no longer listening. As Jordan pulled away from the curb, she sat back against the leather seat, her humiliation rapidly giving way to anger.

If Renee Merteuil had anything to do with this, she was going to regret it.

_______________________

At the Blackthorne mansion, Detective Carver accompanied James and Renee into the guest bedroom Lara had occupied during the last few nights before she disappeared. The room was just as she’d left it, with several dresses hanging in the open closet and an assortment of cosmetics scattered across the dresser.

“So, this is where your wife was staying?” Carver asked, looking around.

“Yes,” James replied. “We’d been having some problems. She moved out of our bedroom a couple of weeks ago.”

“And you haven’t heard from her in almost a week?”

“Not a word.”

“I have to admit, James, I’m surprised she hasn’t contacted you by now,” Renee said. “Even considering the circumstances.”

James nodded. “Even when Lara was furious with me, she never stayed out of touch this long.”

“Have you checked her credit cards?” Carver asked.

“Yes. Not a single charge since she disappeared.”

Carver took out a small notebook. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“The night the fires started. We had a terrible argument and she stormed out of here.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

“No.”

Carver walked toward the bedside table, where an almost-empty bottle of vodka stood beside a used glass. “Was she drinking that night?”

James glanced at the bottle and sighed. “Apparently. She’d been out of rehab for a few weeks, but she must have started again.”

Carver picked up the bottle and examined it. “Well, she may have been pretty intoxicated when she left.”

“Good lord,” Renee murmured. “And with those fires raging all over the city…”

James looked increasingly troubled.

“Did she drive?” Carver asked.

“No. Her car’s still in the garage. Hasn’t been moved.”

“She could’ve taken an Uber,” Renee suggested.

“That’s possible,” Carver agreed. “We’ll check.”

James gestured toward the open closet. “The strange thing is, she didn’t take any clothes. Her jewelry’s still here. Even her favorite handbag.”

“Was it unusual for her to leave without taking anything?”

“Not if she was angry enough. At first, I figured she was just trying to punish me. Lara could be incredibly dramatic when she wanted to be.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Renee remarked.

“But now…” James shook his head. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Carver closed his notebook. “I’ll have someone check the hospitals and follow up on her credit cards and phone activity. We’ll also see if any surveillance cameras picked her up leaving the property.”

“You think something could’ve happened to her?” Renee asked.

“It’s too early to say. But if she left here intoxicated on the night those fires broke out, that’s certainly cause for concern.”

James glanced at the vodka bottle before turning away. “I just hope she’s all right.”

Carver nodded and shook James’ hand. “I’ll be in touch as soon as we find anything.”

They exited the bedroom where Ruthie stood by ready to escort the detective downstairs and out of the house.

“Oh, by the way,” Renee said as she and James walked down the hall. “You’ll never guess who I ran into today.”

“Who?”

“Yvette Caldwell.”

James stopped. “Yvette? Charles’s old secretary?”

“The very same.”

“Wow, I haven’t seen her in years. How is she?”

“Wonderful. She looks fantastic, too. We ran into each other shopping on Rodeo Drive.”

James smiled at the memory. “I always liked Yvette. Your father couldn’t have gotten through a day without her keeping him organized.”

“That’s certainly the truth.”

“Well, I’d love to see her again. Why don’t you invite her over for dinner one evening?”

Renee smiled. “All right, I will. I’m sure she’d love that.”

“Good. It’ll be nice to catch up.”

_______________________

Just down the hall, Miranda sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes still red from crying.

“I’m so sorry, Miranda,” David said quietly. “For everything you’ve been through. Losing the agency, everything with Nico hanging over your head. I should’ve been here for you and Tiger.”

Miranda looked up at him. “David, don’t. You couldn’t have known any of this was going to happen.”

“I know, but still. When I think about what could’ve happened to the two of you in that fire…”  He pulled her a little closer.

“We’re okay,” she assured him. “And Eddie’s been here through all of it. He’s been wonderful.”

David nodded. “Good.”

They sat quietly for a moment before Miranda changed the subject. “So, what are your plans? Back to New York?”

“Honestly, I haven’t decided. I’m going to stick around town for a while. I’ll be staying at my house in Malibu.”

“Well, it’ll be nice having you close by. Especially for Tiger.”

David smiled. “That’s the idea.”

Just then, the bedroom door opened. Eddie stepped inside and stopped when he saw Miranda and David sitting together on the bed, David’s arm still around her.

“Oh,” Eddie said awkwardly. “Sorry. Didn’t realize you had company.”

David immediately withdrew his arm.

“No, it’s fine,” Miranda said, straightening up.

Eddie glanced between them. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“She’s doing okay,” David replied, getting to his feet. “We were just talking.”

“Right.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room.

“Well, I should probably get going,” David said. He turned to Miranda. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow, okay?”

“Thanks, David. For everything.”

He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before heading toward the door.

As he passed Eddie, David gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Take care of her, will you?”

Eddie managed a tight smile. “Always do.”

David nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

_______________________

When Riley returned home, he heard laughter coming from the courtyard the second he walked through the gate. He stepped forward and spotted his mother sitting beside the pool with Steve.  Both had their shoes off and their feet dangling in the water, laughing and talking like a couple of old friends.

Steve was wearing a tank top and shorts, while Jodi had changed into a revealing sundress. She seemed thoroughly entertained by whatever he was telling her.

“Oh, come on!” Jodi exclaimed, giving him a playful shove. “You are so full of it!”

“I’m telling you, it’s true!”

Jodi laughed, then suddenly took his hand in hers. “I mean, look at the size of your hands!”

Steve grinned as she pressed her palm against his, comparing their sizes. “You know what they say about a guy with big hands.”

“Oh, I’ll bet I do,” Jodi replied suggestively.

“Mom?”

Jodi turned to find Riley standing behind them, looking anything but amused. “Oh, hi, sweetheart! You’re home early!”

Riley ignored the greeting. “Where’s Madison?”

“She’s inside taking a nap.”

“By herself?”

“Well, yes, but I’ve got that little speaker thing right here.” Jodi pointed to the baby monitor sitting beside her. “I can hear every little peep she makes.”

Riley stared at her, then turned and marched toward his apartment.

“Riley!” Jodi called after him. She quickly pulled her feet from the water and slipped on her sandals.

“Well, somebody’s in a mood,” Steve remarked.

“Excuse me a minute, handsome.”

Jodi hurried after her son, catching up with him just inside the apartment. “Riley, what is your problem?”

He turned on her angrily. “I knew I couldn’t trust you!”

“What?”

“I leave you alone with my daughter for two hours, and I come home to find you with your hands down Steve’s pants!”

Jodi gasped. “I most certainly did not!”

“Well, you were getting pretty damn close!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Riley! We were sitting by the pool having a perfectly innocent conversation!”

“Innocent? I saw the way you two were looking at each other!”

Jodi folded her arms. “Well, excuse me for enjoying a little male company!”

“How can you be so chummy with that guy after everything he’s done? He practically wrecked my marriage!”

Jodi raised an eyebrow. “Well, honey, I think you had a hand in that yourself.”

Riley glared at her. “Unbelievable.”

“Riley, I’m just saying—”

“Save it, Mom.” He turned and stormed toward the bedroom, where Madison was sleeping.

Jodi watched him disappear through the doorway, then threw up her hands. “Well, excuse me for living!”

She glanced toward the courtyard, where Steve was still sitting beside the pool, and sighed in exasperation. Her son clearly wasn’t going to make this visit easy.

_______________________

At the Bravetti estate, Carlo stood at the bar in his spacious master suite, pouring himself a glass of Scotch while Mickey watched from a nearby chair.

“So what’s this I hear about Brett Armstrong coming over for dinner tonight?” Mickey asked.

Carlo replaced the stopper on the decanter. “That’s my business.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “Since when are you and Armstrong such good friends?”

“Who said anything about being friends?”

Mickey studied his father for a moment, then decided not to pursue it. “Papa, there’s something else we need to talk about.”

Carlo turned toward him. “What?”

“Nico.”

Carlo’s expression changed.

“It’s been over a week,” Mickey continued. “We’ve heard nothing. No phone calls, no sightings. Nothing.”

“And?”

Mickey sighed. “We need to decide what we’re going to do. About a memorial service, arrangements, whatever. Nico isn’t coming back, Papa.”

Carlo looked away, his jaw tightening. For several seconds, he said nothing.

Finally, he nodded faintly. “I know what you’re saying.”

“Then we need to start making plans.”

Carlo stared into his glass. “I’m not ready, Mickey. Not yet.”

Mickey studied him, then nodded. “All right. We’ll give it a little more time.”

He rose from his chair and placed a hand on Carlo’s shoulder before heading for the door.

After Mickey left, Carlo stood silently at the bar until Sharon entered the suite.

“There you are,” she said warmly. She approached him from behind, slipped her arms around his waist, and rested her chin on his shoulder. “I hear we’re having company for dinner tonight.”

“That’s right.”

“Brett Armstrong?” she asked, trying to sound casual. “What brought that on?”

Carlo’s eyes shifted toward the large dressing mirror across the room. In its reflection, he could see Sharon’s face hovering beside his own. “I thought it was time Mr. Armstrong and I became better acquainted.”

Sharon hesitated. “Really? I didn’t realize you had anything in common.”

“Oh, I suspect we have a great deal in common.”

She loosened her embrace slightly. “Such as?”

Carlo turned toward her, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Now, darling. You wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

Sharon forced a smile. “Well, I hope you’ve arranged something nice for dinner.”

“Only the best.” Carlo smiled. “After all, it may be an evening Mr. Armstrong remembers for the rest of his life.”

Something in his voice made Sharon uneasy. “Carlo, is something wrong?”

“Of course not.” He kissed her forehead. “In fact, I want you looking especially beautiful tonight. Wear that Valentino dress I bought you in Milan.”

“The black one?”

“Yes. The one Armstrong complimented you on that night at Corso.”

Sharon went still.

Carlo watched her reaction in the mirror, his expression perfectly composed. “You do remember, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she answered quietly. “Of course.”

“Good.”

He picked up his Scotch and started toward the adjoining bathroom. “Oh, and Sharon?”

She turned.

“Make sure you’re ready by eight. I wouldn’t want our guest to be kept waiting.”

Carlo disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Sharon staring at her reflection, suddenly terrified of what the evening might bring.

_______________________

Eddie emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still damp from the shower. Miranda was sitting at the dressing table, absently brushing her hair.

“Listen, Miranda. About what I said downstairs…”

She lowered her eyes.

“I shouldn’t have said it like that,” he continued. “I was angry, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

Miranda nodded faintly. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not. You’ve been through enough without me making you feel worse.” He approached her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “But you’ve gotta understand something. When I found out you’d gone to see Carlo Bravetti, I was scared to death. After everything that happened with Destiny, how could you put yourself in that kind of danger again?”

Miranda set down her hairbrush. “I told you why I went. I was trying to do the right thing.”

“Twenty-six years too late, Miranda!”

She stood abruptly, facing him. “There it is again.”

“What?”

“The resentment. You can barely stand to look at me now that you know the truth.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Her voice trembled. “Admit it, Eddie. You resent me because I made you lie on the witness stand.”

“No!” he exploded. “For god’s sake, Miranda, I would’ve done anything for you back then! Anything! Because I was in love with you! I was so damn in love with you I couldn’t see straight! But you knew that, didn’t you?”

Miranda fell silent.

“You knew exactly how I felt about you. You knew I’d follow you anywhere, do anything you asked. And when you told me what to say about Nico, I went along with it. I didn’t even question you!”

Miranda recoiled, tears filling her eyes.

Eddie turned away, running a hand through his damp hair. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like carrying that around all these years?” he continued, his voice quieter now. “Knowing what we did, knowing we could’ve stopped it? And every time Nico’s name came up, we just kept telling ourselves the same lie.”

“You think I haven’t lived with that?”

“I know you have.”

“Then why are you doing this to me?”

Eddie turned back toward her. “Because you’re acting like telling Carlo Bravetti the truth is somehow going to make everything right! Like you can march into his house, confess, and suddenly years of guilt will disappear!”

“At least I’d be doing something!”

“And what happens when Carlo decides to take revenge? What happens to Tiger if her mother disappears again? Have you thought about that?”

Miranda looked away.

Eddie sighed heavily. “Look, I’m not saying what we did was right. God knows it wasn’t. But I won’t stand by and watch you destroy yourself trying to make up for it.”

Miranda wiped a tear from her cheek. “I never meant for any of this to happen.  I never meant to hurt you.”

Eddie looked at her for a long moment. “That’s the thing, Miranda. You didn’t have to mean to.”

The words hung between them.

He crossed to the dresser, picked up a T-shirt, and pulled it over his head. “I just need you to promise me you won’t go near Carlo Bravetti again.”

She said nothing.

“Miranda?”

“I can’t promise you that.”

Eddie stared at her in disbelief. “Then I guess we don’t have anything else to talk about.”

He grabbed his clothes from the bed and returned to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Miranda remained standing beside the dressing table, tears streaming down her face. For the first time in their sixteen years of marriage, she wondered whether the secret that had once bound them together might ultimately tear them apart.

_______________________

Next…

Keaton is wary of Phoebe’s stepfather. A stumble lands Kelly in danger. Matthew’s will comes into question.