C.J. Carmichael - A Little Secret between Friends

But Colin was already walking toward her car. He had on jeans and an old—a very old—University of Alberta sweatshirt. She’d probably seen him in that sweatshirt a hundred times.

Including, if memory served her correctly, that one, fateful night over sixteen years ago…

When Colin was close enough to touch her car, she lowered the passenger-side window.

For a moment they just looked at each other, and in his eyes she recognized the sorrow that she’d been feeling.

She also saw that he was concerned about her. But there was something else she couldn’t name. It was like a spark, alive and glowing. And it reminded her that despite how she felt at times, she was a woman with half her life still in front of her.

Dear Reader,

A difficult moral dilemma is at the heart of many stories I write. This story is no different.

Imagine you are a student in your last year of university. There’s this guy who has been in many of your classes…and something about him really gets to you. He’s good-looking, charming and way too smart for his own good. You keep wanting to show him up. Then one night you’re at the library late at night together and he offers you a ride home. Sparks fly, and before you know it, this guy you thought you couldn’t stand is someone you just can’t resist.

The next morning you check in with your roommate and best friend. Before you can tell her what happened last night, she tells you about this guy she really likes—and it’s your guy!

Do you tell her to back off? Or do you leave the field clear for your friend?

In the story you're about to read, Sally Stowe faced just this situation. Sally decided to date someone else and leave the guy for her friend…and the repercussions of that decision still live with her—and her daughter—sixteen years later.

I hope you enjoy this story. If you would like to write or send e-mail, I would be delighted to hear from you through my Web site at www.cjcarmichael.com. Or send mail to the following Canadian address: #1754-246 Stewart Green S.W., Calgary, Alberta, T3H 3C8, Canada.

Sincerely,

C.J. Carmichael

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For sharing her knowledge of family law

and the challenges of juggling a career with motherhood,

I thank Sandra J. Hildebrand, barrister and solicitor.

Thanks also to Joe Nolan, retired RCMP officer,

and Terry Evenson, Executive Director of the Canadian

Bar Association of Alberta (and also a lovely aunt!).

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“BE CAREFUL with that knife, Sal. You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself.”

Sally Stowe froze. The unexpected sound of her ex-husband’s voice had a similar effect to a steel blade running lightly down her spine.

Keeping her back to him, she resumed chopping the red pepper with precise, measured slices. She took a beat to catch her breath, then said coolly, “We have this custom in North America, Neil. It’s called knocking before you enter a home that isn’t your own.”

Though her exterior was unruffled—she hoped!—her mind raced. Why was Neil here? He knew Lara was on a birthday sleepover party tonight. Sally had learned long ago to get his permission for every single thing Lara did. If she so much as booked a dentist appointment without his approval, Neil would turn ballistic.

“The door was unlocked.”

As if that were an excuse. Still, it was a good reminder to be more careful. Sally crouched to reassure the six-month-old puppy whining anxiously at her feet—the cause of the unlocked door. He needed to go out so often she’d become lazy with the dead bolt, which would only engage if you aligned the door just shy of fully closed.

“It’s okay, Armani.” She gave the mutt a scratch behind his ears, then patted him on the side gently.

Strangers—and Neil—made the poor thing nervous.

In his most scornful voice, Neil said, “Armani? Who calls a dog after a fashion designer, for God’s sake?”

Still avoiding eye contact with him, Sally did her best to answer calmly. “Your daughter.” And he, of all people, ought to know why. He was the one who had fostered Lara’s taste for expensive, designer clothing—although even Neil drew the line at Armani, fortunately.

“Well, the dog’s black, at least.”

Yes. And with the patch of white on his chest, he looked a little like he was wearing a tux. But Sally didn’t share that piece of trivia with Neil. She shared nothing with her ex-husband that wasn’t required in their joint-custody agreement.

An agreement that she, as a lawyer, understood inside and out. Neil, also a lawyer, knew the agreement equally well, since he had drafted it.

As Sally went to the sink to rinse her hands, she glanced out the window at the thawing April landscape. The grass was still brown, but there would be pussy willows soon. Chunks of ice were breaking up in the river that bordered the western edge of her property.

She’d moved here, to the Elbow Valley community on the outskirts of Calgary, two years ago when Lara had turned fourteen. Sally was determined to keep her young teenager away from the influences of shopping malls, corner stores and video arcades, where Sally knew trouble could be found as easily as a super-size Slurpee.

Their stone-faced bungalow was one of the smaller homes in the estate neighborhood, but it sat on a full acre of land, backing onto the Elbow River. Sally reveled in the fact that they weren’t even considered part of the city of Calgary, though she was only a twenty-five minute commute from the office.

The country setting was perfect, but the isolation did make her nervous at times, which was why she’d finally given in to Lara’s desire for a dog. Hopefully one day Armani would develop some guarding instincts. The woman at the animal shelter had been sure he was mostly border collie, a breed known to be both protective and gentle with children.

Sally turned off the water and moved to the stove, situated on the island at the center of the kitchen. She unhooked the wok from the overhead rack and settled it on the front burner. After twisting the knob to high heat, she finally lifted her head to acknowledge Neil’s presence.

Her ex-husband still stood near the door. The family room lay to his left, the kitchen to the right. “Are you going to invite me in, Sal? Looks like you have enough food for two.”

He was right about the food. Out of habit she’d prepared enough for Lara, as well, even though her daughter was out. But if she had food for twenty, she’d never invite Neil to her table.

“What do you want? Did you forget Lara is sleeping over at Jessica’s tonight?”

“Can’t a man stop by for a friendly visit with his ex-wife?” Neil smiled, managing to look boyishly attractive, even though, like her, he’d passed forty.

He was a debonair man, her ex-husband. Medium height, slender, he wore a suit really well. His hair was dark and thick, and the lingering trace of his English accent added to his misleading appeal.

“But actually, I’ve brought over Lara’s passport application papers for you to sign.” He placed them, plus his silver pen, the one she’d given him for Christmas on Lara’s behalf, on the island.