Abby looked at her. “There’s just one thing here I don’t understand. If you wanted to leave Dad and you didn’t feel compelled to stick with the marriage because of Dawson and the twins, why in heaven’s name didn’t you file for divorce a long time ago?”

Bitterness edged Diana’s mouth. “In a word? Mother.”

“Why was she a factor? She never approved of Dad, anyway. I would have thought she would have been delighted to see you split.”

“Oh, yes,” Diana said. “She would have been thrilled. You want the truth? I didn’t leave Brandon years ago when I should have because I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of proving that she was right. Again.”

Diana went out into the hall. Abby listened to the fading echo of high heels on the tile floor.

Sam materialized in the doorway. “Everything okay in here?”

“Sure,” Abby said. “Just a little family chat. But I learned something tonight.”

“What’s that?”

“Even for a Strickland, it’s not always about the money.”

“Funny you should mention that. I just had a talk with your father and came to the conclusion that it’s not always about the money for him, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wanted to make sure that I knew you weren’t going to inherit a dime from the Strickland trust. He was trying to protect you from being married for your nonexistent money.”

“Oh.” Startled, Abby took a moment to process that. “Huh.”

“Can we leave now?”

“Yes,” Abby said. “We can leave. In fact, I can’t wait to get out of here.”

31

SAM GOT BEHIND THE WHEEL, BUT HE DID NOT IMMEDIATELY fire up the engine. He contemplated the warmly lit windows of the auditorium across the street. There was still a large crowd inside.

“Tell me about Kane Thurston,” he said.

Startled, Abby gave him a quick, searching look. “There’s not much to tell.” She buckled her seat belt. “He wasn’t the first man I’ve dated who thought I was in line for a share of the Strickland money. People make that mistake all the time.”

“Because everyone makes a show of pretending that you’re all just one big happy family?”

“The power of branding.”

“Who told Kane that you weren’t fated to inherit the Strickland family fortune?”

“I did,” Abby said. “As soon as I realized what he was after. Felt like an idiot for a while, because I can usually spot the con artists right away. But to give Kane his due, he is a very, very good con artist. He didn’t fool Gwen and Nick, though. They saw right through him the first time they met him and warned me.”

“You didn’t doubt their verdict?”

“No, although I went into denial for a while before I admitted to myself that they were right. In the end, I knew I had to trust Nick and Gwen. And once I started looking at Kane with clear eyes, I realized they were right. Sorry you got the lecture from Dad. I’ve tried to make it clear to everyone in the family that you are just a client, but they all seem to be assuming the worst-case scenario.”

“The worst-case scenario being that I might actually want to marry you?”

She winced. “I didn’t mean it quite like that. Sorry. It’s been a difficult evening.”

“I assume your stepmother wanted to talk to you about Dawson’s financial problems?”

“What else? She’s desperate to recover the family fortune, in part because she wants to end the marriage to Dad. She figures my father already has one foot out the door, which is a logical assumption. If the book and the TV series do take off, he’ll probably move on.”

“He did say something about that. I think he’s given up on plan A.”

“Which was?”

“Hoping that Orinda Strickland would kick the bucket first. He seems to think that if she wasn’t in the picture, he would be able to convince Diana to tear up the prenup.”

“Maybe once upon a time he could have done that. Dad has occasionally been known to use his knowledge of psychology to manipulate others. Got a hell of a track record in that department. But it’s too late now. Diana definitely wants out. The only reason she’s hesitating is because she does not want to end up broke.”

“Why did she stay with him this long?” Sam asked.

“Didn’t want to give her mother the satisfaction of being able to say I-told-you-so.” Abby shook her head. “Can you believe it? Spend nearly two decades with a man because you don’t want to admit your mother was right about him?”

Sam cranked the engine. “Families.”

“A constant source of entertainment.”

“They keep life interesting. You really think your dad hung around this long because of the Strickland money?”

“Sure. Even though he’s not an heir, it has certainly made life very comfortable for him and provided him with a lot of social connections.” Abby paused. “And to think that he doesn’t yet know that it’s gone. I wonder when they’ll give him the bad news?”

“Good question.”

Sam reversed the SUV out of the slot and drove onto the street, heading downtown. The lights of the city’s office buildings, hotels and apartment towers glittered like watery jewels through the rain-splashed windshield.

“Just one more question about Kane Thurston,” he said.

“What?”

“Was he ever there for breakfast?”

“Nope. Although I did meet him for brunch at a restaurant a few times. Does that count?”

“No,” he said. “Brunch in a restaurant doesn’t count.”

Abby’s phone chimed. She reached into her purse, grabbed the device and glanced at the caller ID.

“It’s Nick,” she said. Her tone was suddenly a few degrees brighter. She took the call. “Hey, Nick.”

Sam heard the easy familiarity and affection in her voice and felt a tug of simple, primal jealousy. Knowing Nick was gay did nothing to assuage the response. Abby was closely bonded with her friends. She’d had years to forge the connections among herself and Nick and Gwen. He, on the other hand, was a newcomer in her life, and as far as she was concerned, their relationship was not easy to define. The passion was high-energy, but he knew she did not fully trust the intimacy that it generated. It was all happening too fast for her.

She needed time to recognize and accept the bond between them, he thought. But meanwhile, he did not have to like the fact that he was playing second fiddle to a cat burglar and a psychic who read auras for a living, to say nothing of the dog.

“Are you sure?” Abby’s tone altered abruptly. Alarm edged her voice. She leaned forward in the seat, phone clamped to her ear. “Nick, wait, don’t hang up. What do you mean? Tell me what’s going on.…Okay, okay, I’ve got it. Code red.…Yes, he’s with me.…Yes. Ten minutes. I promise.”

She ended the connection and sat very still, phone clenched in one hand. She had been tense all evening, but what she was radiating now was off the charts.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

“There’s a bar on a side street half a block off Broadway,” she said urgently. “It’s not far from here. We need to go there right now. Nick is waiting.”

“What’s with ‘code red’?” Sam asked.

“It was the old signal that the three of us used when we were in the Summerlight Academy. It means what code red always means. Something very bad has happened.”

32

LANDER KNOX STUDIED THE BACK-COVER PHOTO ON HIS COPY of Families by Choice while he waited in line. The smiling faces of the Radwell family stirred the deep wellspring of hot acid inside him. It was all he could do not to hurl the book at the author’s head. Just one big happy family.

He took out the small bottle of acid-reducer pills and popped one into his mouth. The picture was deceptive, he reminded himself. Things were no longer quite so perfect for the Radwell clan, thanks to his financial games. The knowledge that he had caused some serious collateral damage soothed him.