Pride

bumped into the high and mighty Miranda. What a fool I am.”

“Greg…,” she began, then stopped herself. What could she say? Sorry I went on a few dates with you and blew you off? Sony that, even though you’re smart and funny and liked me a lot, it just wasn’t going to work? Or how about, Sorry that you overheard me telling my best friend that I deserve better than you? Miranda didn’t think there was a Miss Manners-prescribed etiquette for the situation, but none of the most obvious options seemed particularly appropriate.

“Sorry I yelled, Greg,” she finally continued. “I didn’t realize it was you.”

“Oh, she remembers my name,” he crowed, not meeting her eyes. “I’m so honored.”

“Greg, can we just-do you have to…”

“Do I have to what?” he asked loudly, drawing curious stares from two women pushing their strollers across the street. “Do I have to stand here and pretend I care what you have to say?” He paused, and pretended to think it over. “Now that you mention it-no, I don’t.”

He brushed past her and strode down the street, pausing a few feet away to shout something back to her.

“I do sincerely apologize for bumping into you-you deserve much better than that.”

If nothing else, the encounter-her first run-in with Greg since the “unfortunate incident”-should have proved to Miranda that her instincts had been right: She was too good for that immature jerk. But telling herself that didn’t help much. She’d been feeling guilty for weeks about the things she’d said about Greg-and the look on his face when he’d overheard.

She had hoped that maybe, since all this time had passed, he’d have cooled down, be willing to forgive her, assure her that she wasn’t such a cold and horrible person. That maybe they could even be friends.

Apparently not.

Harper had lied-not a first. She had hours to go before she officially entered the miserable ranks of the employed. But she’d needed to escape before Miranda pried more information out of her about her job, or her boyfriend. It was exhausting, trying so hard to keep her best friend out of the loop. Sometimes, it was easier to just be alone.

So here she was, hours to kill on Grace’s main drag. As a general rule, the town offered only two leisure options: shopping and boozing. And since she didn’t plan to show up plastered for her first day of work, those options narrowed to one.

Time to pre-spend that first paycheck. (The second one would go to her parents, to pay back the money they’d loaned her-but as far as she was concerned, the first money she’d ever earned for herself was already earmarked for a fabulous new ensemble that would make her shine up on the slopes as much as she shined on the ground.)

First stop had been the local video store. She’d snuck in, skulked around the sparse fitness section for a few minutes, and then grabbed the cheapest and most painless-looking workout videos she could find: Sweatin’ to the Oldies, Pilates for Beginners, and a Paula Abdul dance aerobics tape clearly left over from 1987. After throwing a wad of cash at the clerk, she stuffed the tapes into the bottom of her gym bag and raced out of the store, hoping no one had spotted her. She wasn’t about to break a sweat in public again, not after her pathetic showing this morning, but she also wasn’t about to let anyone know she’d be sweating to the oldies at home with Richard Simmons. The potential humiliation factor was through the roof.

Next stop: Angie’s, Grace’s only “fine clothing shop.” Harper usually shopped online-most Grace gear was pretty much a fashion faux pas waiting to happen-but the ski trip was fast approaching, and she had no time to waste waiting for a package that, given the incompetence of her local postal workers, might never arrive. Just one problem: Angie’s was a desert clothing store, and even in the middle of winter, their cold-weather selection was limited to a shelf of thick socks, thin gloves, and a few wool sweaters covered with giant snowflakes.

“Pathetic, isn’t it?”

Harper recognized the voice and turned around slowly to meet the familiar smirk.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she greeted him with a smile.

“A true delight,” Kane drawled sarcastically, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting up-despite the prominently placed NO SMOKING sign just above his head.

If Harper was surprised to spot him in a women’s clothing store, she didn’t let on, nor did she reveal her true delight at running into him. They had so few chances to speak privately these days-and of course it was only in private that they could crow about the triumph of their secret plan. Harper never got tired of winning, and she never got tired of rehashing her victories. Too bad Kane and Kaia were the only ones who could ever know about this, the greatest victory of all.

“See anything you like?” Kane asked.

Harper dropped the light blue cashmere scarf she’d been fingering-it was the only worthwhile item in the store. And it was gorgeous. It also cost about as much as the entire ski trip-and thus was way out of her league. Not that she’d ever admit it to Kane.

“Nada. This place is a fashion wasteland,” she complained, grabbing a cigarette from him after deciding that the clerk was too immersed in her latest trashy romance novel to notice. “So, having a good time?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Shopping? Surely you jest.”

She smacked him lightly on the arm. “Not the store, Kane-the girl. You. Beth. Is it everything you’d hoped for?”

His face finally broke into a wide grin.

“And more,” he confided. “She can’t get enough of me. And no wonder. You should have seen the look on her face when Adam showed up raging about what she’d done. She had no idea what the hell he was talking about. Totally crushed.” He waggled his eyebrows at Harper and smirked, as he did every time he fondly recounted this point in the story. “I, of course, was there to pick up the pieces. You can imagine she’d be quite grateful.”

“That’s nothing,” Harper claimed. “You should have seen the look on Adam’s face when he saw the pictures. He…” But she trailed off, for there was nothing particularly amusing about the memory of her oldest friend’s reaction to seeing the doctored photos of Beth and Kane. He’d collapsed in on himself, and Harper had been the cause. Knowing she could alleviate his pain with a few words-confess that the pictures were fake, that she and Kane were to blame, that Beth was, as always, pure and innocent-that had been the hardest part of the whole thing. But she couldn’t do it-wouldn’t do it. She wasn’t proud of what she’d done, but there had been no other way.

“Come on, Grace, don’t get sentimental on me now,” Kane charged. “This is a time for swagger and celebration.”

“Sometimes I just wonder…”

“What, whether we did the right thing?”

“Well, don’t you?” she countered.

“Why bother?” he asked, smirking. “What’s done is done. Adam and Beth were doomed-we just helped things along a bit. Think of it as a mercy killing.”

“I suppose Adam is much better off now without all that dead weight,” Harper mused.

“Hey, watch it,” Kane cautioned her in mock anger. “That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.”

“Your girlfriend, right.” Harper took a long drag on her cigarette, relishing the sharp taste of the smoke billowing out of her mouth. Adam hated it when she smoked, so she’d been trying to cut back. It had seemed a small price to pay, but God, she missed that nicotine buzz. “I guess I should congratulate you, now that we’re coming up on two months. What is this, your longest relationship ever?”

“Very funny, Grace.” But the smile had disappeared from his face. “Did you ever stop to think this one might be different?”

“Did I ever stop to think that the great Kane Geary, who’s made a life’s work of dating his way through town, who gets bored after about ten minutes of anything, might actually be tamed by Beth, of all people? Blond, bland, boring, Beth?” She finished off the cigarette and pondered the question. “No, I guess the thought never occurred to me.”

“You underestimate her, Grace. You always have.”

“And you overestimate her, Kane,” she pointed out. “That’s the part of this I’ve never understood. Why Beth, of all people? She thought you were scum, she was dating Adam, she’s so not your type.