.

      “I’m meeting my friends in Royal for lunch,” Miranda said. “I’ve told them all about the Royal Diner for years and now they want to try it out in person. Would you like to join us?”

      Miranda had been in Royal since a couple of days before the will reading, and in that time she and Irina had become friends. When Miranda was still married to Buck, the two women hadn’t really bonded. Irina was more shy back then, too. Less sure of herself. They actually had more in common than she would have thought. They were both divorced—though their situations were wildly different. They were both rebuilding their lives. And they both knew hidden truths about Buckley Blackwood. Each of them, in their own ways, owed Buck a lot.

      It was good to be able to talk about the older man with someone who understood. Almost no one in Royal knew the real Buck.

      In business, Buck had been ruthless, determined and unstoppable. But in private, the man had helped more people than anyone would guess. It really irritated Irina that his own children were clueless about that side of Buck. But she’d once promised him that she’d keep his secrets. Just because he was dead didn’t give her permission to talk. Did it?

      “Thank you, Miranda,” she said. “I really appreciate it. But I think I’m going to work on my book this morning. I’d like to finish the chapter at least.”

      She was so close to finishing the book she’d been driven to write. Her own personal background story was one she thought a lot of women could connect to. Maybe not the particulars of her experience, but the spirit of the story. Picking yourself up and starting over would be a clarion call to those who might be feeling hopeless.

      And an agent and a publisher had believed in her, too. She’d sold her book six months ago and it was still a thrill to her. Soon, she’d be a published author and then an immigration lawyer, and her own American dream story would be complete.

      Or as complete as it could be without the man she’d once believed to be the love of her life.

      Miranda smiled and nodded. “I get it. And I know Buck was proud of you for everything you’ve accomplished.”

      “Thank you,” she said. “That means a lot.”

      “And,” Miranda added as she picked up her bag, “if you’re willing, I’d love to read some of your book.”

      Irina almost choked. She hadn’t expected that rush of wild panic. Someone wanted to read what she’d written? Why was that terrifying? Soon it would be out on shelves and hopefully a lot of people would want to read it. But this was different. This was someone she knew. Yes, she’d submitted it to an agent and publisher, but that was business. Letting someone she knew and liked read it was something different.

      Miranda laughed. “Okay, never mind. I can see how unnerved you are at the idea.”

      “No,” Irina said, taking a step forward as she got a firm grip on the swirls of what felt like eagles in her stomach. Then she sighed. “All right, yes, I’m a little nervous at the thought. But I really would love for you to read the first chapter and tell me what you think.”

      It sounded terrifying, of course. But one day soon, everyone in Royal would see it, buy it, read it. It might be a good thing to get an idea of what people would think ahead of time.

      “Great!” Miranda gave her a quick hug. “I’m sure it’s wonderful, so don’t look so worried.”

      Irina laughed a little. “I think worrying is what I do best.”

      Smiling, Miranda said, “I’ll see you tonight. And remember, you’re not a maid here anymore, Irina. You’re a guest.”

      Technically. But Miranda now owned the lovely house and Irina was Buck’s guest, not hers. So she would pitch in and help out as much as she could.

      “Thank you. I appreciate that.” She gave a look around the great room, with its plush but homey atmosphere, and at the Christmas tree, which she personally decorated every year. “But I’ve worked here for more than seven years now. While I’m here, I’ll continue to help the housekeeper.”

      Miranda studied her for a long moment. “I get that. You don’t want to be beholden to anyone. You need to steer your own path. Pay your own way.”

      “Yes,” Irina said.

      “You know, I think you and I are very much alike.”

      Irina smiled. She’d had the same thought. “Have a good time.”

      “Right.” Miranda headed for the front door. “I’ll see you later.”

      Alone, Irina thought about their conversation. About the secrets she held. About promises made and about Kellan, still holding so much anger for his late father. And she made a decision.

      Working on the book would have to wait. First, she had to see Kellan. Tell him things he should know.

      The diner was kitschy, with the decor set firmly in the fifties—black-and-white tile floor, red faux leather booths and an actual jukebox on one wall. Lulu was charmed. The waitresses seemed to know everyone in there and the camera crew following Lulu and her friends didn’t intimidate anyone. Instead, the locals were interested, excited even.

      Except for one man.

      Of course, he was gorgeous. His brown eyes were flashing with irritation and his rumpled dark brown hair was a little too long. The collar of his dress shirt was unbuttoned and his dark red tie loosened. He had a sheaf of papers spread out over the table in front of him and a cup of coffee at his elbow. The hostile looks he was shooting everyone involved in her reality show left no doubt what he thought of any of them.

      Well, if he wanted privacy to work, Lulu told herself, he shouldn’t have come to a diner. The scowl on his face seemed to be a permanent fixture and she wondered idly why she found that appealing. A man that inherently cranky shouldn’t be so attractive. But he certainly was. He sipped his coffee, made a note on one of the papers and then frowned again at her group and the camera crew.

      Fee and the rest of the girls were oblivious, joking together about another day of shopping or perhaps a spa day at the Bellamy, where they were all staying. But Lulu couldn’t stop watching him. So she was aware when Miranda came into the diner and stopped at his table. Briefly, the scowl on his face lifted and she wondered how Miranda had managed that small miracle. While they talked, Lulu scooted out of the booth and walked up to join them. She heard her friend saying something about Buck’s will, but she missed the context because both people got quiet as soon as she arrived.

      “Hi, Miranda.” She smiled at her friend, then sent a deliberate wink at the crabby man frowning at her.

      “Lulu!” Miranda gave her a hug and grinned. “Did you guys have another fabulous morning of shopping?”

      “We did. It was wonderful. We went back to the Courtyard shops.” They’d all enjoyed it so much the day before, they’d returned to hit the stores they’d missed on their first visit.

      “And your camera crew loved it, too?” the man asked snidely, inserting himself into the conversation. “Get every little purchase covered, did they? Want to make sure America sees you spending your exes’ money.”

      “I’m sorry?” she asked, pointedly meeting his less-than-friendly stare.

      “That would be nice, but I doubt you are,” he said.

      “Um,” Miranda interrupted, confusion written plainly on her features. “Lulu Shepard, this is my ex-husband’s lawyer, Kace LeBlanc. Kace, Lulu.”

      “A lawyer,” Lulu said with feigned, over-the-top sorrow. “That explains it.”