didn’t matter.
“But why did you invite him?” Lianna pressed.
“It’ll be easier if we find a way to be friends. Because if we ever run into each other professionally...”
“That’s weak, Heather.” Lianna again. Sometimes Heather wondered how she’d remained friends with her for so long, but deep in her heart, she knew. Lianna understood her. Well enough to see when she was faltering—and to give her the hard truths when she needed them. Lianna had always been a source of strength.
Just as she’d been one of Lianna’s few sources of unconditional love.
“I heard he’s still in the area,” she said now, in her own defense. He’d sold the house they’d bought together, had paid Heather her share of the proceeds, which she’d used to buy the little bungalow within walking distance of the beach. She’d assumed he’d moved back closer to LA, but when she’d had lunch with a mutual friend from the city the month before, she’d found out differently.
Apparently he’d given up the apartment they’d kept in LA, too, but she assumed he’d bought another one there. Probably twice as nice.
Back when they’d been together, they’d spent some days in the city and some in Santa Raquel every week. Since the breakup, she’d quit staying in the city, choosing to make the hour-plus commute on the days she had to be in court. Or to interview someone who couldn’t come to her Santa Raquel office. She’d figured Cedar had done the opposite—left Santa Raquel, making the commute from LA for as long as he kept his Santa Raquel office. Apparently she’d been wrong on that one.
“Just being in the area doesn’t explain why he’d be on your guest list.” Lianna wasn’t dropping this.
“Because I’m over him.” The words sounded slightly pathetic. Her reasoning was not.
“Again, no reason to party with him.”
Raine’s hand was fidgeting against her thigh. A sign that her college friend was truly upset...and holding back. “What do you think?” Heather asked her.
“I don’t know,” Raine told her. “But I think it’s important that you do. So far, I’m not sure that’s the case.”
“I’m over him.” That was the reason. Period.
“Are you?”
“Of course!”
Raine, of all people, knew that.
“You said yourself that I’m a different person now than I was a year ago.”
Raine nodded. Licked her lips. Another sign of agitation.
Lianna’s gaze was softer than usual as she stood there, watching the two of them. Her silence was more telling in that moment than anything else. She clearly thought that this was bigger than frank talk was going to solve.
“He didn’t show, and I’m not even upset. What does that tell you?”
“That you didn’t expect to see him here.”
She hadn’t really. But she’d been prepared, just in case. And she would’ve been fine.
“I invited him because I am over him,” she said again. “Because I knew I could handle it. And because I’d like us to be able to be friendly. If he’s still in town, we’re bound to run into each other at some point.” As Raine had said, she was a criminologist with an undergraduate degree in psychology. A polygraphist who used the test as one of various methods of assessing the truthfulness of the people she tested. One of the skills that made her different from the rest was that she didn’t just use a predetermined set of questions. When something raised a dubious response, she listened to what wasn’t being said and asked more questions until she got a response that gave the signs of being truthful. The scientifically based insights she offered, coupled with the opinions she wrote, made her unique—and valuable. In the state of California, because of the track record she’d quickly built, she was considered an expert witness.
And Cedar defended criminals.
“Charles was okay with you inviting him?” Lianna asked.
“Yes.”
The girls exchanged another glance.
“Now what?”
“Don’t you find it the least bit odd that a guy doesn’t mind if his fiancée’s ex is at their engagement party?”
“Charles trusts me.” That part sounded a bit weak, even to her, but... “And I think he wants Cedar to see that I’ve moved on. He wants him to know that I’m with another man now.”
He hadn’t actually said so, but she’d read that into the conversation that had taken place between them. When she’d asked if it bothered him that she wanted to invite Cedar, he’d lied to her. He blinked more rapidly when he lied—making him an easy man to read.
One of the many things she loved about him.
She’d continued talking to him until she got to a semblance of the truth.
“Listen, you two, I promise you, I’m over Cedar Wilson. Completely. I’ll do whatever you need me to do to prove that to you.”
Instead of looking convinced, or even somewhat placated, her two best friends suddenly looked stricken.
“I’m guessing turning around ought to do it.” The voice came from behind her and Heather froze. If it was possible to live without a heartbeat, she was doing it.
She knew that voice. Had heard it in her dreams for months after he’d betrayed her.
And woken up with wet cheeks every time.
But no more. She’d cried her last tears for the man who’d purposely manipulated her, who’d used her skills to set a guilty man free.
I’M OVER CEDAR. COMPLETELY.
There she was. Heather Michaels. His Heather. Standing right in front of him.
Saying she was over him completely.
“Cedar! You made it. How are you?”
She sounded like her mother. Or any of the other thirty or forty voices coming from the front room. Superficial. Yet not ten minutes earlier, he’d been certain that the voices emanating from the party had to be sincere. Because the Heather he knew wouldn’t have been celebrating her engagement with her parent’s crowd.
What had they done to her?
Rather, was this what he’d done to her?
“I’m well, and you?”
Raine stood just off to her left. He wanted to catch the other woman’s eye. It was good to see her, too. She’d been Heather’s roommate when he and Heather first met. Had been there through all of their ups and downs.
It wouldn’t be good to be on the receiving end of one of those looks of disappointment he’d occasionally seen on her face in the past. When he’d shown up late. Or not at all. Without bothering to call and let Heather know.
He’d been all about saving his clients’ quality of life. At least that was how he’d described it. The way he’d thought about it. When he’d thought about it. If he’d ever thought about it.
“She’s great!” Lianna burst into the silence that had fallen, alerting him to the fact that he and Heather had been standing there, staring wordlessly at each other.
He could only imagine what she was getting from him. What “tells” he was sending.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, instinctively sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Feeling