Floyd hesitated. “I’m pretty sure. When I told her I was moving out, she didn’t say a word to stop me. The way I figure it, if she really loved me, she would’ve asked me to stay.”

“What if she assumed that if you really loved her, you’d never want to move?”

Floyd stared at her. “You think that’s what she might’ve thought?”

“I don’t know, but it’s worth asking, don’t you think?”

“Yeah… I do,” Floyd said, his voice revealing the first enthusiasm she’d heard all evening. He raised his car window, then quickly lowered it again. “Jamie?”

“Yes?” She was halfway toward the outside stairs that led to her second-floor condominium.

“Would you mind if I used your phone? My cell’s dead, and I’d like to give Carolyn a call to see if she wants to talk.”

“Sure.” Smiling, she opened her purse and took out her key. If she’d mentioned this earlier she thought wryly, she might’ve been home two hours ago.

Floyd parked his car, then hurried up the stairs with her. He resembled a young boy, he was so eager. She unlocked the door and flipped on the light switch. Floyd immediately headed for her phone.

Jamie made herself scarce for a couple of minutes, going into her bedroom to remove her shoes. She hung up her jacket and eased her gray blouse from her waistband. Before leaving her bedroom, she slipped her feet into her fuzzy open-toed slippers. Then she went into the kitchen and put the kettle on the burner. As soon as Floyd was gone, she planned to relax with a cup of herbal tea.

“Carolyn agrees we should talk,” Floyd announced triumphantly as he replaced the telephone receiver. “She sounded pleased to hear from me. Do you think she’s lonely? I doubt it,” he answered his own question before Jamie had a chance. “Carolyn always did have lots of friends, and she isn’t one to sit home and cry in her soup, if you know what I mean.”

Jamie nodded. “I hope this works out for you.”

“Me, too. I’ll be heading out now,” Floyd said. “She’s getting a sitter for the kids and she’s going to meet me for a cup of coffee.”

The doorbell chimed then, in long impatient bursts. Floyd’s gaze swung to Jamie. She couldn’t imagine who’d be arriving this late.

She walked past Floyd and opened her door. No sooner had she turned the lock than Rich raced in as though he was there to put out a fire.

“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded. “I’ve been half out of my—” He stopped midstep and midsentence when he caught sight of Floyd and the color drained from his face. His eyes widened with shock, disbelief and…could it be pain? Slowly he turned toward Jamie.

“Floyd, this is Rich Manning,” she said, gesturing from one to the other. “Rich, Floyd Bacon.”

Floyd held out his hand, and for a moment, Jamie feared Rich wasn’t going to take it. He did so, but with ill grace. “I take it Jamie didn’t mention me,” he said sarcastically.

“Ah…no,” Floyd said, rubbing his palms together. He eyed the front door. “Listen, I was just leaving.”

“No need to rush,” Rich said, sitting down on the sofa and crossing his long legs. He stretched his arm against the back of the cushions, giving the impression that he had plenty of time to sit and chat. “I’m interested in hearing how the two of you spent the evening.” His smile lacked warmth or welcome.

“Rich,” Jamie said, stepping forward. She’d never seen him like this, so sarcastic and ill-mannered.

One look from him cut her to the quick. Rarely had anyone looked at her with such…disdain. He studied her, from her slippers to the blouse she’d pulled free from her skirt, and his eyes narrowed, damning her.

“Jamie’s an old friend,” Floyd explained. “I was in the bank this afternoon and…well, you see, my wife and I have separated, and Jamie—”

“So you’re married, too.”

“Too?” Frowning, Floyd turned to Jamie for an explanation.

“Yes,” Rich said in a deceptively calm voice. “Jamie and I’ve been married…what is it now, darling, a month?”

“Rich,” she warned him under her breath. He might be her legal husband, a man she’d known and respected for more than a decade, but seeing him behave like this, talk like this, he seemed like a total stranger.

“Jamie. My goodness,” Floyd said, sounding astonished. “You didn’t say a word about being married. Congratulations! I wish you’d said something earlier.”

“So do I,” Rich added caustically.

Once again Floyd glanced at the door. “I’d like to stay and chat, but I really should leave. My wife and I are going to meet and talk… Jamie was the one who suggested it. Well, actually, I came up with the idea of calling Carolyn, but Jamie helped me see that it was the right thing to do.” He spoke rapidly, the words coming out so fast they tumbled over one another. “I’ll see you later.”

Jamie held the door for him. “Thanks for dinner,” she said as graciously as the circumstances allowed.

“Thanks for dinner,” Rich mimicked derisively as Floyd went out the door.

Jamie felt a storm threatening. One of anger and frustration. The thundercloud was sitting directly behind her, and she did her best to restrain her indignation. After taking a moment to compose herself, she turned around. “Is something bothering you, Rich?” she asked in a level voice.

He leapt off the sofa as though he’d been sitting on a giant spring. “Is something bothering me?” he repeated coldly. “What do you think you’re doing, dating that joker?”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“I heard you thank him for dinner.” He spat out the words as though to have to say them was a detestable task. “At least you could’ve returned my phone calls.”

“I …haven’t checked my messages. Good grief, I didn’t get home until five minutes ago.” Moving across the room, she went to her phone to listen. Six messages, all from Rich, played back, each sounding progressively less patient and increasingly anxious. The last one had been to demand to know “where the hell” she was.

“When I couldn’t stand waiting for you to call, I drove over here to wait for you. Lo and behold, your car was in your parking space and you were here—with Floyd.”

“I can understand your concern,” Jamie said calmly, willing to grant him that much.

“You’re my wife, dammit! How am I supposed to feel when you turn up missing?” He raked his fingers through his hair and stalked to the opposite side of the room.

Jamie drew in a long, soothing breath, determined not to let this escalate into a full-fledged argument. “I was never missing. I’m sorry I worried you, Rich, but you’re overreacting, and frankly, it’s beginning to annoy me.”

“Annoy you? I’ve been pacing the floor for the past three hours….”

“I would have phoned.”

“You brought a man home with you!” He made it sound as though that was grounds for divorce.

“Floyd’s an old friend.”

The kettle whistled, and Jamie hurried into the kitchen and turned off the burner, all thought of tea forgotten. The boiling water bubbled from the spout, nearly scalding her. Rich had followed, stalking into the room behind her.

“Apparently you don’t have a problem letting old friends take you out to dinner,” he accused her, his words inflamed with impatience.

Jamie gritted her teeth, biting back an angry retort. “He needed someone to talk to, someone who’d listen to his problems. You’re making it sound as though I did something underhanded. I was just being a friend.”

“You’re a married woman,” Rich bellowed. He slammed his fist on the counter. “My wife. How do you think it makes me feel, knowing you chose to go out to dinner with another man instead of your own husband?”

“I didn’t choose Floyd over you! Good heavens, how was I supposed to know you wanted to take me to dinner? I’m not a mind reader.”

“If you’d come home after work the way you’re supposed to, you would have heard the first of my six messages.”

“That’s ridiculous! I can’t run my life according to your whims.” She’d managed to keep her temper intact, but she didn’t know how much longer her precarious hold would last.

“I thought you were different.” A spark of pain flashed in his eyes.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I would’ve trusted you with my life, but you’re like every other woman I’ve ever known. The minute my back’s turned, you think nothing of seeing someone else.”

The emptiness in his voice cut at Jamie’s heart. “That’s so unfair.”

“We’re married, and even that didn’t make a difference.” His eyes accused her of—what? Being unfaithful? That was completely irrational!

“This isn’t a real marriage and you know it,” she said heatedly. Her voice was shaking with the effort to keep from shouting. “You’re the one who insisted on the ceremony, but it was for convenience.”

“We’re married!”

“Maybe, but you have no right to storm into my home and insult my guests.”

“And you have no right to bring a man home with you.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Jamie couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. “Our marriage is in name only for…for obvious reasons.”

“We said our vows.”

“Don’t remind me.” The promises they’d made to each other continued to haunt her.

“Clearly someone has to.”

“Oh-h-h,” Jamie seethed. Tightening her fists at her sides, she exhaled sharply and resisted the urge to bang her cupboard doors to vent her frustration.

“Temper, temper.”

“I think you’d better leave before we say something we’ll regret.” Instinct had told her that getting married wouldn’t work, and she’d ignored it. Now she was suffering the consequences.

“Not on your life.”

“This is my home,” Jamie cried, quickly losing her grip on her rage. She’d never known Rich could be so unreasonable, so rude, so…impossible.

“You’re just like every other woman I’ve ever known,” Rich repeated in unflattering tones.

“And you’re just like every other man, so wrapped up in your own ego that it’d take a whack on the head with a two-by-four to see what’s right in front of your nose.”

“It wasn’t me who went out behind your back,” he shouted. He leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms.

“Why do you care if I had dinner with a dozen men?” she demanded. “It never bothered you before!”

“We weren’t married before.”

“I’m not your possession,” she said. “You have no right, husband or not, to tell me who I can see and who I can’t.”