Yes. I won’t pretend that we’re nothing more than friendly neighbors. You can’t ask for that—anything but that.
Claire smiled. They were dear children.They are, said Mme. LeGuarde. And they were very fond of you.
With…with Thierry…Mme. LeGuarde lowered her head.I apologize. I am sorry. I thought it was a summer fling that would fizzle out and you would both be better for it. So did your mother.
Mme. LeGuarde nodded. I miss her very much, you know. We were pen pals our whole lives.My mother said you could take the letters?
I was Thierry’s poste restante when he was at the conflict, yes. We both thought it was the right thing to do. And you know, then the divorce and I will say, I had very little time for romance in my life just then.
All that time I blamed my dad.Bitch. I wanted to leap off the fluffy ottoman I’d sat perched on for the last twenty minutes and rip out her spiky short hair. Looked like Hilary was in for some competition in the Caleb department.
Luckily, after the best murderous glare I could muster—in the once comrade now bimbo’s direction—the girl retreated without another word.What was it about men that turned females against each other in less than a second flat?
Shaking the disheartening memory of our shopping trip from the day before away, I looked up to find the clock reading eight thirty. Time to get going.Seriously, you look great, now let’s go or we’ll be unfashionably late. I called out from the living room after slipping on my red pumps and grabbing my clutch. An accessory I always thought foolish living in a small town like Harmony, but I couldn’t resist. It was also the only thing in the expensive boutique I could afford.