Page 42 of Raising the Stakes

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“What’s not true?”

“That I’m not married anymore.” It couldn’t hurt to admit just this much, could it? “I still am,” Dawn said in a small voice.

“What? Well, then, that’s the first step. Get a divorce.”

Get a divorce. Dawn didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Cassie made it sound so simple, but she could never get a divorce. You had to file papers for a divorce. They would be sent to Harman. He’d know where she was. Where Tommy was. And he’d come after her and her baby.

“It’s not that easy.” She dumped the empty cans in the sink, rinsed them and propped them, upside down, on the drain board. “My husband would never give me a divorce.”

“You mean, you’re terrified of asking him for one.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I wasn’t born yesterday. I don’t know why it took me so long to figure it out. You never date. You jump if a guy so much as looks at you.”

“I don’t.”

“You do. You get this phony smile on your face—”

“Would you prefer I slug him? I don’t have a phony smile, I have a polite one. You’re the one who told me that was the way to go, remember?”

“I didn’t tell you to treat perfectly nice guys like they were Jack the Ripper.”

“Dammit, Cassie—”

“Dammit, Dawn, you’re too young to lock yourself away like this.” Cassie took a breath. “Oh, hell. Okay, I’m out of line. I know I am. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be,” Dawn said, trying not to sound stiff and knowing that she wasn’t succeeding. “We’re friends. You can say whatever you want.”

“That’s why I said it. Because we’re friends, but the truth is, it’s none of my business.” Cassie carried the box containing the uneaten pizza to the trash can, hesitated, and put it into the fridge instead. “I don’t know what made me say all this tonight. Well, maybe I do. It’s the way you looked when I asked you about your knight.”

“My what?”

“Your knight in shining armor.”

“Do you know why armor shines?” Dawn said sharply. “It’s plated with tin. Shoots a big hole right in that `knight-in-shining-armor’ theory, doesn’t it? I mean, a tin-plated knight doesn’t sound half as romantic.”

“So call him your Good Samaritan. Who cares about names? I’m simply telling you that you said he was okay looking, but your eyes said something else.”

Dawn grabbed the sponge and scrubbed the table free of nonexistent crumbs. “Great. Now you’re into reading eyes.”

“Look, I don’t care. Deny it. Pretend you’re living in a convent but do yourself a favor, okay? Dig a six-foot-deep hole in the front yard, right next to that pathetic thing you call a shrub—”

“It’s an indigo!”

“Yeah, well, whatever it is, dig that hole and put your memories of the SOB you married inside it. Shovel the dirt back in, jump up and down on it a couple of times and you’ll be rid of him once and for all. And do it before he completely poisons your life.”

“Who would believe it?” Dawn threw her arms wide. “Oprah comes to Las Vegas,” she said dramatically. “Tune in tomorrow while she solves the world’s problems.”

“It’s good advice and you know it.”

“Honest to God, Cassie…”

“Yes?”

The women glared at each other. Then Dawn felt her eyes fill with angry tears. She tried blinking them back but they flowed down her cheeks. She saw the stunned look on Cassie’s face and then the words she

’d never spoken to anyone burst from her lips.


Tags: Sandra Marton Billionaire Romance