The Touch of a Woman

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A workplace rampage leaves Ellis Rowanbury grieving her husband of twenty-six years and feeling more adrift than she ever thought possible. Her finances in shambles, she gratefully accepts a junior-level job at a magazine in Sacramento and wills herself to move on.

Summer Winslow has pieces of her own to pick up, pieces that were scattered when her partner began drinking again. Fighting pressure from all directions to patch things up, she finds a welcome break from the drama in Ellis, her mysterious new neighbor. Happy to have a friend on her side, Summer is caught off-guard when her feelings for Ellis take a romantic turn.

With the tragedy fading behind her, Ellis too entertains the possibility of romance. A handsome coworker is eager to fill the void in her heart, and it’s clear he can give her a life much like the one she lost. Only now she’s paralyzed by a stunning discovery—she’s fallen for a woman.

Copyright © 2015 by KG MacGregor

Bella Books, Inc.

P.O. Box 10543

Tallahassee, FL 32302

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

First Bella Books Edition 2015

eBook released 2015

Editor: Katherine V. Forrest

Cover Designer: Sandy Knowles

ISBN: 978-1-59493-465-0

PUBLISHER’S NOTE

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Anyone But You

Etched in Shadows

The House on Sandstone

Just This Once

Life After Love

Malicious Pursuit

Mulligan

Out of Love

Photographs of Claudia

Playing with Fuego

Rhapsody

Sea Legs

Secrets So Deep

Sumter Point

T-Minus Two

Undercover Tales

West of Nowhere

Worth Every Step

Shaken Series

Without Warning

Aftershock

Small Packages

Mother Load

This page is always the last one I write, and it’s squeezed into the document by formatters as it goes through typesetting. During the window after I finished this book, the Supreme Court of the United States issued their historic marriage-equality decision, a ruling that will forever change the way I approach writing lesbian romance. Though marriage between two women has been accessible in certain states for several years, it’s different now that all of us can celebrate. Not every romance ends on bended knee, but it sure is nice to have that be a genuine possibility.

I’m grateful to my editor, Katherine V. Forrest, for pointing out all the places where “it was in my head but not on the page.” Fingers crossed that I’ve filled in all the gaps. Thanks also to the rest of my cleanup crew—Jenny, Karen and all the staff at Bella.

Lastly, I’m so happy for the chance to give a big shout-out to JJ Crabb, who steps up every single time I offer something for a charitable donation. Her generous response on my behalf to the Starship Children’s Hospital in New Zealand is an inspiration. I love knowing people like JJ read my books.

Ellis Rowanbury snatched the leather folio from the waiter’s hand before he could drop it on the knotty pine table. “Don’t even think about it, Roxanne.”

Her friend leaned back and folded her arms. “My, my. When did you get so aggressive?”

“You left me no choice. You’ve paid…what? Three months in a row?”

“If you say so. I certainly don’t keep track.” Roxanne pulled a compact from her purse and touched up her lips with pink gloss that gave the outward impression she was soft. Nothing could be further from the truth. “They probably wouldn’t appreciate a wrestling match over the bill in the middle of their dining room.”

On the contrary, Ellis thought. Who wouldn’t enjoy watching a pair of women in high heels get down in a hair-pulling catfight? Smart money would be on Roxanne because her hair wasn’t long enough to pull. And because she’d cheat.

Ellis fished a small stack of bills from her wallet and tucked them inside the folio, smiling with the knowledge that it was
her
money, not part of what Bruce gave her for the household budget. “Did you catch my feature last month on chiropractors? I was amazed at what they’re treating these days with spine adjustments.” She ticked the ailments off on her fingers: “Obesity…depression…addiction. I had no idea.”

“I have a copy of
Vista
on my credenza. I’ll check it out when I get back to my office.”

As if someone in Roxanne Sternberg’s position had an extra minute in her busy day to peruse a city magazine. It was a testament to their thirty-year friendship that she still made time once a month to meet at Buck’s in Woodside, halfway between her Silicon Valley office and Ellis’s home in San Francisco.

Ellis looked forward to their monthly dates, relishing the chance to step out in a stylish business dress or suit, something she didn’t often have occasion to do. Her part-time work for the magazine was freelance. There was no reason to dress up when she worked at home, but she knew Roxanne would be decked out as usual in something that said power.

“Your assignments always sound so interesting, Ellis.” This coming from a woman whose job title was Vice President of Leisure Innovations at a dot-com company. “I’d give anything to have the freedom you have. Other than a frantic trip to Beijing, I haven’t been out of my office in a month.”

It was hard to feel sorry for Roxanne. At forty-seven, she was a millionaire several times over, thanks to timely career moves that always included stock options. Petite with dark hair and brown eyes, she hardly looked her years. Plus she had perks that added to her cosmopolitan image—a personal shopper who dressed her in the finest career wear, a trainer who came to her house, even a woman who did her nails in her office while she busied herself with conference calls.

A glamorous, high-powered career had been one of Ellis’s dreams too, but she wouldn’t have lasted a year in a pressure-cooker job like Roxanne’s. Deadlines didn’t bother her. Nor did she mind taking on intellectual challenges. Where she would have struggled was with demanding personalities. Too easily intimidated, too quick to defer—the total opposite of Roxanne, who took on everyone in her path.

Ellis was better suited to freelance work, where she rarely encountered office politics or power struggles. Still, she could have had a successful career at
Vista
. With easygoing publisher Gil Martino on her side, she could have been editor by now had she not stepped away to raise her children.

“Less than a year to go, Roxie. Then Allison’s off to college and I go back to full-time at the magazine. Gil’s been begging me to do that for years but I promised myself I’d wait till my last one finished high school.”

“You should go for it. Allison will be fine. She’s a tough cookie…like her Aunt Roxie.”

In many ways, that was true. Allison had long looked up to Roxanne as a prime example of how women could rule the workplace.

“I can’t. I promised myself to be there for her. Every volleyball match, every drama club skit. I did it for the boys, so it wouldn’t be fair to bail on her.”

“Who do you think you’re kidding, Ellis? You’re only following her around so she won’t sneak off and get anything else pierced.”

The studs in her daughter’s chin and brow had horrified her, but at least the holes would close once she outgrew her rebellious phase. “Believe it or not, I can handle her putting holes in her body. It’s the tattoos I’m worried about. I’ve put my foot down over that one but she’s counting the days till she turns eighteen. That happens in May.”

“Just don’t let them spell something wrong. She’ll end up going viral in one of those Internet memes everybody posts on Facebook.”

Ellis groaned with exasperation. “Let’s just hope she doesn’t try to outdo Jeremy.” Her son’s neck and left arm looked like someone had left their crayons on a hot sidewalk.

“At least you have one child who hasn’t defiled his body.”

That would be Jonathan, Jeremy’s fraternal twin, younger by eighteen minutes and his polar opposite in every way imaginable. A political science major at Stanford, he was bent on getting into law school.

Roxanne stood and straightened her gray sheath dress, then swung a blazer around her shoulders. “I’d give anything to stay and hang out, but I have a call this afternoon with the Tokyo office.” She dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “You can give this to Pete for me.”

Ellis collected their leftovers in a cardboard container the waiter had left behind. For the past several years, she’d been feeding Pete Proctor, the homeless man who’d claimed the corner of Diamond Heights Boulevard and Gold Mine Drive.