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been a gang, a team, and now it was beginning to break up, threatening their security. She said, “I don’t know, Vannie. Right now, I’m just so”—she sought for the right word—“so
wounded.
Bill lied to me. He sacrificed us, our plans, our life, for Melissa. What can I say?” She shrugged her shoulders wearily.
    The next call was from Susie. “If you insist on doing this darn trip, then at least let one of us come with you,” she said firmly, but Lara was stubborn.
    â€œWhat does Delia think?” she asked.
    â€œDelia thinks you should go, but as you can see, she’s in the minority.”
    Lara laughed. “My count makes it even. Two against two.”
    â€œSo who gets the deciding vote? Your kids?”
    Lara thought if her heart could have gotten any heavier, it would have sunk. She was so selfish, only thinking of herself and her own pain, she hadn’t given any thought to how a breakup might affect Josh and Minnie.
    Delia was the next to call. “So, okay, when do we leave?”
    â€œWe?”
    â€œNous. Les deux femmes seules.
Out on the town together in Paris. I hope you speak better French than I do, though.”
    Lara laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you,
madame,
but I’m making this trip on my own.”
    â€œWouldn’t it be more fun with the two of us?”
    â€œIt’s
not fun
I’m looking for, Delia.” Lara suddenly realized what it was she needed. “It’s myself.” She thought about it for a moment. “I don’t quite know how to explain this, but this will be a. . . voyage of self-discovery. And I need to do it alone.”
    Delia understood immediately. She said, “When do you leave?”
    â€œIn a couple of weeks. Not long now.”
    â€œOf course I’ll see you before you go. And I hope it works out for you, Lar,” she added softly.

CHAPTER 10
    D an Holland had never met a woman quite like Lara Lewis. She was so self-contained, giving nothing away—except what was revealed in her expressive face and her huge, sad eyes. There was an air of innocence about her that was missing in the young women he knew, a tenderness, a vulnerability, as though she had never grown that diamond-hard outer layer women these days thought necessary. The young women he met had a fuck-you attitude, as though life owed them and they were going to take it. He was drawn by Lara’s gentleness, and he liked her self-consciousness, and he admired her intelligence.
    Each evening after he had finished work on her deck, he would linger over a beer, talking about nothing in particular. About Carmel, his life, her kids. And sometimes there were long silences that said more than words.
    Another week passed. Dan was working at the opposite end of the deck from where Lara was sitting reading a book, and even though he was concentrating on what he was doing, his peripheral vision kept her in view. He liked the way she looked in that red bathing suit with her breasts spilling over the top, and he liked her long legs and rounded hips. She lay back, eyes closed, the book resting on her stomach. Her skin had a faint sheen of sweat, and the coconut scent ofHawaiian Tropic drifted his way. He wanted to touch her. …
    He worked until the sun went down and then, as usual, Lara asked him to stay for a beer. They sat opposite each other in the twilight, watching the sliver of moon begin its climb. She had changed into a flowing white skirt and shirt, thrown a soft blue cardigan around her shoulders, slipped her long, narrow feet into gold thong sandals. Gold hoops gleamed in her ears and he could smell her perfume, gentle and faintly spicy.
    â€œA couple more days and I’ll be through,” he said quietly.
    Lara nodded, telling herself it was better that way. She would miss him, though. Oh, yes, she would miss him. There was something real about Dan that she wanted desperately to cling to.
    â€œWould