Blue Dahlia

there wasn’t a single barrier to get over, not really. It wasn’t that we never fought or had problems, but it was all relatively simple for us.”
    “And the longer you live, the more complicated life gets.”
    “Yes. I’m afraid of being in love again, and of crossing that line from this is mine to this is ours. That sounds incredibly selfish when I say it out loud.”
    “Maybe, but I’d say it’s pretty normal.”
    “Maybe. Roz, my mother was—is—a mess. I know, in my head, that a lot of the decisions I’ve made have been because I knew they were the exact opposite of what she’d have done. That’s pathetic.”
    “I don’t know that it is, not if those decisions were right for you.”
    “They were. They have been. But I don’t want to step away from something that might be wonderful just because I know my mother would leap forward without a second thought.”
    “Honey, I can look at you and remember what it was like, and the both of us can look at Hayley and wonder how she has the courage and fortitude to raise that baby on her own.”
    Stella let out a little laugh. “God, isn’t that the truth?”
    “And since it’s turned out the three of us have connected as friends, we can give each other all kinds of support and advice and shoulders to cry on. But the fact is, each one of us has to get through what we get through. Me, I expect you’ll figure this out soon enough. Figuring out how to make things come out right’s what you do.”
    She set the thermos lid on the desk, gave Stella two light pats on the cheek. “Well, I’m going to scoot home and clean up a bit.”
    “Thanks, Roz. Really. If Hayley’s doing all right once I get them home, I’ll leave David in charge. I know we’re shorthanded around here today.”
    “No, you stay home with her and Lily. Harper can handle things here. It’s not every day you bring a new baby home.”

    AND THAT WAS SOMETHING ROZ CONSIDERED AS SHE hunted for parking near Mitchell Carnegie’s downtown apartment. It had been a good many years since there had been an infant in Harper House. Just how would the Harper Bride deal with that?
    How would they all deal with it?
    How would she herself handle the idea of her firstborn falling for that sweet single mother and her tiny girl? She doubted that Harper knew he was sliding in that direction, and surely Hayley was clueless. But a mother knew such things; a mother could read them on her son’s face.
    Something else to think about some other time, she decided, and cursed ripely at the lack of parking.
    She had to hoof it nearly three blocks and cursed again because she’d felt obliged to wear heels. Now her feet were going to hurt, and she’d have to waste more time changing into comfortable clothes once this meeting was done.
    She was going to be late, which she deplored, and she was going to arrive hot and sweaty.
    She would have loved to have passed the meeting on to Stella. But it wasn’t the sort of thing she could ask a manager to do. It dealt with her home, her family. She’d taken this particular aspect of it for granted for far too long.
    She paused at the corner to wait for the light.
    “Roz!”
    The voice on the single syllable had her hackles rising. Her face was cold as hell frozen over as she turned and stared at—stared through—the slim, handsome man striding quickly toward her in glossy Ferragamos.
    “I thought that was you. Nobody else could look so lovely and cool on a hot afternoon.”
    He reached out, this man she’d once been foolish enough to marry, and gripped her hand in both of his. “Don’t you look gorgeous!”
    “You’re going to want to let go of my hand, Bryce, or you’re going to find yourself facedown and eating sidewalk. The only one who’ll be embarrassed by that eventuality is yourself.”
    His face, with its smooth tan and clear features, hardened. “I’d hoped, after all this time, we could be friends.”
    “We’re not friends, and never will be.” Quite deliberately, she took a tissue out of her purse and wiped the hand he’d touched. “I don’t count lying, cheating sons of bitches among my friends.”
    “A man just can’t make a mistake or find forgiveness with a woman like you.”
    “That’s exactly right. I believe that’s the first time you’ve been exactly right in your whole miserable life.”
    She started across the street, more resigned than surprised when he fell into step beside her. He wore a pale gray suit, Italian in