Surrender My Heart. Kayla Perrin

Deanna said as she turned and began walking toward another display of hats. “That’s my two cents…but I’m not talking about it.”

      Natalie stopped dead in her tracks. As the reality of what Deanna had said hit her, she felt her stomach roil.

      “I’m sorry,” Deanna went on, catching Natalie’s expression. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m probably wrong…”

      “Actually, you’re probably right.” Natalie walked past her sister to the window, where something had caught her eye. Some sort of commotion. She saw a woman with a microphone and was instantly worried.

      But when she got to the window, she saw that the woman was approaching a tall, gorgeous man who had just stepped out of a black 7 Series BMW with dark, tinted windows.

      “What is it?” Deanna asked, coming to stand beside Natalie and also looking out the window.

      “I saw a reporter outside. For a minute, I thought…” Her voice trailed off, the idea suddenly seeming stupid to her. “As if I’m that important.”

      “Ooh, I see you ladies are checking out Michael Jones,” came a woman’s dreamy voice.

      Natalie and Deanna turned to see Edna, the hat designer and shop owner, standing next to them. You would think that the fifty-something redhead had been hit by Cupid’s arrow, that’s how enamored she looked.

      And for a long moment, Natalie allowed herself to enjoy the view of one of the finest men she had seen in ages. Tall, at least six foot three, with a cool confidence that oozed sex appeal. Black slacks covered a seriously fit behind, and hugged thighs that were muscular and strong. His well-sculpted biceps were revealed beneath the hem of his expensive-looking short-sleeved shirt. Having been married to Vance Cooper, Natalie recognized high-priced clothing even without seeing a label. And from the man’s fine Italian shoes to his dark sunglasses, everything on Michael’s body was undoubtedly created by a renowned designer.

      Natalie cleared her throat and said, “I wasn’t checking him out.” She pretended to be intrigued by a felt pink cowgirl hat. “Just wondering what was with the reporter.”

      “That’s probably just a random woman with a store-bought microphone, hoping to get close to Michael,” the shop owner said with a giggle. “Michael Jones is one of the star’s of this city’s NFL team, and women do anything to get to him. Wide receiver. Very talented.”

      Of course, Natalie thought, wondering how she hadn’t pegged him as a professional athlete. I’m sure he’s very talented in many ways, was her next sour thought.

      “He comes by here quite often, because he’s got a restaurant a few doors over,” the designer went on. “A soul food place. Bought it for his cousin to run, and unlike some of those other stuck-up athletes, he drops by a lot. It thrills the fans.”

      “I’m sure,” Natalie quipped. Then she promptly turned around. The brother was fine…no doubt about it…but she was in no mood to ogle a professional athlete.

      “Sorry to talk your ear off,” Edna said. “I’ll leave you to your shopping. I guess I’m as guilty as all the other women in this town. When Michael Jones comes around, I have to get a glimpse.”

      “I can see why,” Deanna said.

      Edna shrugged sheepishly, then added, “I’m here if you need any help.”

      “We’re good,” Natalie told her. Moving away from the window, she saw another interesting hat. She picked up the baseball styled cap adorned with gems and glitter. The word love was written in glitter, which only made Natalie think about Vance again.

      “Pregnant,” she mumbled to herself. “My God, it makes sense.”

      “I was only speculating,” Deanna said. “Which was really silly. Because without any pr—”

      “I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Natalie went on, as though Deanna had just confirmed that she had heard rumors Olivia was pregnant. “Seriously, I shouldn’t be surprised. Vance is capable of anything.”

      “Me and my big mouth,” Deanna said. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to talk about Vance. You’re only getting more upset.”

      “How can I not be upset? Why else would Vance divorce me without even the courtesy of letting me know ahead of time? Obviously because he got that tramp pregnant.”

      “That hat I like,” Deanna said, trying to change the subject. “Yeah, real different.”

      “I’m taking it.” Natalie walked back to the large purple one and picked that up, as well. Then she picked up a white cloth hat she hadn’t even tried on and walked with the items toward the front register.

      “Lovely choices,” the designer told her. “Now, I don’t know if you had a chance to see the fascinators I have in this corner. Those are the little hats that rest on the front of your head. They became real popular after the royal wedding. A lot of ladies are wearing them to church. They’re not nearly as hot in the summer. The one with the blue feathers is made from the feathers of my friend’s tiger macaw—”

      “I’ll take it,” Natalie said. “And give me that black fancy one with the jewels and netting.”

      “Where are you going to wear that?” Deanna asked in a low tone.

      “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe Vance’s funeral?”

      “Oh, boy,” Deanna said.

      “Did you say you’re going to a funeral?” Edna asked, her face twisting with concern.

      “My aunt recently passed,” Deanna quickly said before Natalie could speak. “My sister was saying this would have been a nice fascinator to wear to the funeral.”

      “Or any funeral,” Natalie added.

      Not that she wished Vance dead.

      Well, not particularly. She didn’t plan to participate in a voodoo ritual to ensure his painful demise.

      The purchases paid for, Deanna all but hustled Natalie out of the store. “Retail therapy is over. I say we go home, and you get into a hot bath—”

      “Natalie Cooper?”

      At the sound of her name, Natalie instinctively turned. It took her a moment to recognize that the woman moving toward her was the same one who had earlier approached Michael Jones. Natalie’s eyes went lower, to the microphone the woman had in her hand.

      “How do you feel about the news that your barely ex-husband has just gotten engaged?”

      Natalie was too stupefied to speak.

      “You did hear, didn’t you?” the woman asked, sounding almost gleeful. “The ink is barely dry on your divorce papers, yet Vance has already proposed to Olivia Markson. From what I understand, she was your former best friend, right?”

      “Don’t you have anything better to do?” Deanna asked, stepping in front of Natalie.

      “Please don’t sensationalize this story,” Natalie said. “No one in Cleveland cares about me and Vance.”

      “But the people of San Antonio most certainly do.”

      “San Antonio?” Natalie asked, not understanding.

      “I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself. I’m Hyacinth Hamilton, from the San Antonio Times.”

      A reporter from San Antonio was here? A reporter had tracked her down in her uncle’s hometown? Natalie glanced around nervously, wondering if there were more reporters lurking nearby. When she and Vance had announced their separation two months ago, the reporters had converged like vultures.

      “So how do you feel about what’s transpired?” the reporter went on.

      “I—I—” Natalie’s head was spinning. God help her, she didn’t