“I would,” Noreen said in a softer tone, “but the timing is all wrong. I’m busy. I have to work on my new book.” She tapped the manuscript sitting neglected on her desk. She had to completely rework it. The thought of her career caused her further distress. Her sister’s life was one minidisaster after another, but Noreen knew that her career would soon follow suit if she didn’t do something fast. Unfortunately, her divorce hadn’t just broken her heart, it had also deadened her creativity.
She’d lost the imagination to come up with plots that had great romance and happy endings. She’d always known she wrote fiction and what she wrote had little bearing on real life, but lately, whenever she tried to write, she felt as though she was writing lies and it was definitely affecting her productivity. She was a successful, well-paid romance novelist. Her fans loved her dashing heroes and feisty heroines and how they found perfect and lasting bliss. It had been nearly two years since her divorce and she still hadn’t recovered. To her, love was a farce and all men deceivers.
Noreen knew men. Sometimes more than she wanted to. They were simple creatures who preferred playthings to complex women, and as long as their basic needs were met they didn’t care who gave it to them.
Their father had taught her that. Her three half brothers had come from three different women. The
women had all been grateful for the opportunity to have him in their lives. Her father, Vince Webster, was a magician when it came to women. She’d discovered his secret when she’d overheard a conversation he’d had with one of her brothers.
“Women are like toys. Treat them right, play with them on occasion and they’ll make you happy.”
And her brothers had proven it was sage advice. They were never without women and enjoyed their company. They never made promises and it appeared that the women didn’t mind.
Sometimes Noreen wondered why she’d gotten married. Maybe because her mother hadn’t. It seemed like a sort of rebellion and a perfect idea at the time. But she soon learned her ex was restless and that she could never please him. He never cheated on her with another woman (or man), thankfully, but he didn’t have to. The art of adventure and taking risks was his mistress and, early in their marriage, after only eight months, he told Noreen she bored him. Their marriage probably would have ended then if Noreen hadn’t felt guilty and decided to fund his adventures with the money she had made from her books. Now she had to pay the bastard alimony because he claimed he helped build her career.
She’d loved him but quickly learned that love wasn’t enough. Being there for him when his mother died hadn’t stopped him from missing her first book signing; cooking his favorite meals hadn’t guaranteed he’d arrive home at night; listening to his hopes and fears hadn’t meant he’d be there for her when her car broke down. “Call triple A,” he’d told her that cold, rainy
night when she’d gotten stuck on the highway in the middle of winter. That’s when she knew that love was painful and made a person weak. Especially women. That’s when she’d made a vow to never fall victim to it again.
Unfortunately, that revelation wasn’t the right attitude for a romance novelist, and her sales numbers were beginning to slip.
Her work was still publishable and she hadn’t had to make any major revisions to any of her manuscripts before, but even her writing friends, Suzanne Gordon and Claudia Madison, had begun to worry when they’d spoken with her more than two months ago.
“What’s wrong with it?” she asked them. She rarely asked for their feedback on her work, but when her editor had said “something was missing,” she’d wanted a second opinion. The three of them sat in a chic restaurant in the heart of downtown Durham.
“The book is good. Your work always is, but your editor is right, there’s something missing,” Suzanne said, looking tailored and finished in gray linen trousers and a pale green fitted blouse. She was the daughter of a prominent judge and a true daughter of the South so she chose her words carefully and always kept her features pleasant.
Noreen paused, recognizing the strange note in her friend’s voice. “Missing?”
“Yes.” Suzanne sighed, the sigh saying more than words ever could.
“The passion isn’t there,” Claudia clarified, finding no need to soften her words. She was a tall, willowy
woman whose bobbed, straight black hair and flowing, loose-fitting clothes gave her a bohemian air. She was a psychiatrist who’d turned her insight about relationships into bestselling books.
Noreen laughed. “Oh, you mean you want another love scene?”
Suzanne cast a hesitant look at Claudia then said, “No, it’s not that. The love scenes are fine and so are the characters and plot, but it’s not your usual passion-filled story. There’s no emotion. The story is just sitting there flat on the page. The hero and heroine don’t really seem as though they’re in love. In lust, yes, but not in love. I don’t see them having a real future together.”
“I see,” Noreen said quietly. She couldn’t dispute her friend’s words. As the author she knew that she didn’t really see the characters living happily ever after. The hero would go on to his next conquest and the heroine would focus on her business.
“I know your divorce was hard and I understand—”
“Look, I’ll fix it. Don’t worry,” Noreen said. She didn’t want to talk about her divorce or its effect on her work.
Suzanne reached across the table and covered Noreen’s hand. “Love does exist, you know, and there are good men out there. Men who are loving, kind and loyal.”
Noreen pulled her hand away. “Right.” She took a long swallow of her grape juice, wishing it was something stronger—like hundred-proof gin.
“You don’t believe me,” Suzanne said.
“Of course I believe you,” Noreen countered, wanting her friend to let the topic die.
Claudia toyed with the long, white-gold necklace dangling around her neck. “I don’t.”
Suzanne and Noreen looked at their friend, baffled.
Claudia released her necklace and shook her head. “Wait, I said that wrong. I do believe there are good men out there. I just don’t believe there’s the perfect one. The concept of marriage is archaic.”
“But you write books about families and relationships,” Suzanne said.
“Because it’s popular, not because I believe it. Women would be happier if their expectations weren’t as high. Having a man isn’t going to change your life or make it better. Freedom is the key.” She looked at Suzanne. “Now, I know you’re extremely happy with Rick, but your life isn’t for me.”
Noreen studied her friend. “You’re afraid.”
Claudia bristled, offended. “No, I’m not.”
“You just explained why you never commit to anyone. You’re afraid of disappointment.”
“And you’re too miserable from your divorce to try to find happiness again with any man.”
“I prefer to have a set of standards to measure someone by than go with any man I find interesting.”
“Maybe,” Claudia said slowly, wrapping her necklace around her finger. “But I prefer companionship to going around like I’m the only woman who’s ever suffered a broken heart.”
Claudia’s words stung. “That’s not true,” Noreen said, hurt.
Suzanne raised her voice. “Ladies, could we get back to discussing the novel?”
“Sorry,” Claudia said. She looked at Noreen. “Here’s my advice, which you can choose to accept or ignore. Take a break. Live a little, then come back to your manuscript with new eyes and you’ll see what we mean.”
Noreen already knew what she meant. When she’d first started writing professionally, the process had been a thrilling and exciting experience. Now it was just a job that paid the bills. The passion had died the moment her ex had walked out on her. And she didn’t know how to recapture it. She had the money to do whatever she wanted, but nothing appealed to her. Not retail therapy nor a spa retreat, and she didn’t want to discuss it anymore with her friends. She’d left the restaurant that day thanking them for their honesty and promising herself she’d never let herself be that vulnerable again.
She knew she needed a change, but her sister’s request was out of the question. Noreen looked at Arlene and began to shake her head.
“I love him,” Arlene said. “You know something about love.”
Not anymore.
“And if he loves you, he’ll understand.”
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone. My happiness lies in your hands. Please, I’ll make this up to you someday.” Arlene clasped her hands together. “All you have to do is pretend to be me, deliver the package once you get to St. Lagans and enjoy yourself. Oh, and
take a few pictures so that when you get back I’ll have something to show to Clyde.”
Noreen felt herself weakening. She glanced again at her manuscript. “I don’t know…”
“Sis, you need a break and it won’t take much. It’s a simple job. And you get to go on a cruise,” Arlene hastily added, sensing her sister’s interest. “Wouldn’t you like to escape on a Caribbean cruise right now?”
Noreen looked out her window as the chilly late-September wind tossed dried leaves to and fro, while people bundled up in bulky fall coats and scarves scurried past.
Her silence encouraged Arlene to push harder. “Beautiful beaches and a gorgeous stateroom. I saw the brochure and the pictures are even better online. You’ll get to wear great clothes. Clyde bought me this beautiful outfit that I’ll let you borrow.”
Noreen chewed her bottom lip. “What’s in the package?”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry. It’s small and will easily fit in your suitcase or purse.”
“What is it?”
“An antique ring with a rare gemstone. Nothing illegal. Come on, Noreen, it’s not as though you’ve never done this before.”
Noreen inwardly cringed at her sister’s mention of her past. Yes, that was true. In college she’d been a courier and briefly worked for her uncle delivering items to customers until she learned what his real business was—smuggling jewelry. Not wanting to get in trouble with the law, although her uncle had tried to assure her
that she wouldn’t, Noreen had gotten out quickly and her decision had caused a strain in the family, especially for those who had a more lax approach regarding right and wrong.
She suspected that her family background had been part of what had charmed her ex, who knew about her father, her shady uncle, her devious brothers and her reckless sister. But he’d been disappointed when Noreen hadn’t lived up to his ideal of one of the reputed “wild Websters.”
But that had been a long time ago and she wasn’t naive anymore. What would it hurt to do a simple delivery job and in the process enjoy a seven-day luxury cruise? She could help her sister and get a needed vacation. “Okay, fine,” Noreen said. She felt she might be making a mistake, but couldn’t stop herself.
Arlene squealed with delight then hugged her. “Thank you so much.” She kissed her sister on the cheek. “I love you.”
“Hmm. What are you going to do if…” Noreen let her words fall away and gestured to her stomach.
“If I’m pregnant?” Arlene finished when Noreen couldn’t.
Noreen nodded.
“I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it. You worry too much. Dad always thought so.”
Noreen folded her arms, unable to deny her sister’s accuracy.
“You haven’t seen him lately,” Arlene said, unable to let the topic drop.
“I send him cards.”
“But you don’t visit.”
“When he sees you, he sees me.”
“That’s not the same.”
But it was close. Most people were disappointed with Noreen after meeting vivacious Arlene, with her flashy smile, stylish clothes and sex appeal. Arlene was every color of the rainbow while Noreen was black-and-white. Everyone preferred color. “I’m busy and we never have anything to say to each other.”
“But—”
“Do you want me to help you or not?”
“All right, forget it,” Arlene said, not wanting to push her luck. “Everything has been taken care of and all reservations are in my name. The contact will meet you on the dock in St. Lagans. I’ll call you and give you more information when I get home. You’re going to have so much fun.” She smiled. “Maybe you’ll meet someone.”
Noreen met her sister’s engaging smile and shook her head. “Only in your dreams.”
A
week later, Noreen walked through the airport terminal in pink three-inch-high heels, a pair of straight-leg blue jeans, a pink rayon blouse that felt too small and a cashmere coat. She wore large, sterling-silver hoop earrings and her hair sleeked back. Her sister wanted her to wear an anklet, three bracelets and two necklaces, but Noreen argued she’d never get past security. “I think I’m making a big mistake,” she said in a low voice.
“Only because you worry too much,” Arlene said next to her. Her sister looked hideous wearing a pair of dark-framed glasses, a short-waisted wool jacket with two-inch-high clunky boots and her hair loose around her face in an unstylish manner.
Noreen glanced at her, annoyed by her sister’s dowdy
appearance. “I’m not worrying, I’m just thinking, and besides, I don’t dress like that.”
“Yes, you do.”
Noreen sighed, not in the mood to argue. She stopped at the airport checkpoint. It was time to say goodbye. She took a deep breath as if about to dive into icy water. “This is it.”
“Yes. I really appreciate this.”
“You’d better.”
Arlene kissed Noreen on the cheek. “Try to have some fun.”
“Right, and you take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
Noreen stiffened when she saw a familiar figure in the distance. “What is he doing here?”
Arlene spun around then gasped with joy. “It’s Clyde! He’s come to say goodbye. Isn’t he sweet?”
Sweet
wasn’t the word Noreen would have used. To her Clyde looked as if he hated the world and most people in it. He moved in a smooth, calculated fashion and dressed with the same care. He had a trim mustache and slithers of silver in his dark hair that complemented his dark brown skin.
Noreen watched him, expecting him to walk past her and greet Arlene, but then she remembered she was playing Arlene and panic set in. She wanted to run. Clyde didn’t give her the chance. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her—a deep intimate kiss that made her inwardly shudder. It had all the romance of making out with a relative. When he pulled away, Noreen forced a smile. She gripped her hands into fists so she wouldn’t
wipe her mouth. “This is a surprise,” she said, struggling to keep her voice steady.