IN A LITTLE CORNER OF MY HEART

BY

LILLIAN K. DUNCAN

DEDICATIONS

THIS AND ALL THAT I DO IS

FOR GOD'S GLORY

TO RONNY, NOW I KNOW WHY YOU

OCCUPIED A LITTLE CORNER OF MY HEART

FOR SO MANY YEARS.

CHAPTER ONE

Ramona clenched her eyes shut at the annoying buzzing of the hotel's alarm clock. She just needed five more minutes of sleep. She groped around for the snooze button but then her mind slowly came awake and she remembered where she was and why. She was instantly awake.

Ramona's blue eyes flew open at the insistent ringing of the hotel room's alarm clock. She opened her eyes fully and she looked at the clock, hoping that this was the first time it had gone off. She had a nasty habit of hitting that snooze button without actually waking up. She smiled. It hadn't gone off before so she was safe and up with plenty of time to get ready for the big day.

She would have taken bets that she wouldn't have slept a wink the night before but she had and surprisingly well. She stretched allowing her body to catch up with her already alert mind. She extended her body to its full length of five feet. Well, it was five feet if she exaggerated just a bit. She smiled and savored the moment. This was the day that she'd been working towards for so long. It was hard to believe that the day had finally come.

She sat up, her feet dangling off the bed. Her face lit up with a goofy grin. She jumped off the bed. She didn't have time to be dawdling. Even though she had a habit of being late, she refused to be late that day. She simply wouldn't allow herself to be late on the most important day of her life.

The silly grin persisted throughout the shower. She turned the shower knobs as far as they would go. She luxuriated in the billows of steamy heat. The stinging rays of heat pulsated through her body helping to wake her up. She sang a Springsteen song that she knew most of the words, off key as usual.

This was her day and no one could take that away from her. This would be a perfect day. She'd worked so hard and given up so much to get here but it had been worth it. Every date she'd turned down, every party she hadn't gone to, every vacation she'd passed up but none of that mattered now that she'd finally succeeded.

She'd always dreamed of being an author but it had seemed an impossible dream to a poor girl growing up in rural Ohio. She had loved books from the moment she could read. She was practically just a baby when she began toting her books with her wherever she went and she still did. She was rarely without a book to read when she had a few spare minutes.

Her girlfriends had heroines such as Jackie Kennedy, but hers had been Laura Ingles Wilder, Pearl Buck, and Louisa May Alcott. She imagined what it must be like to see your name on the cover of a book but her practical side won out and she'd become a teacher instead.

She'd traded in her dreams for the security of a regular paycheck and a bad marriage and what a bad marriage it had been. The thought of her marriage made her shake her head. Even six years after the divorce, she was still amazed at how she'd managed to ruin her life so thoroughly and how she'd completely lost sight of the person that she was during her marriage. She'd always considered herself intelligent but she'd had to rethink that position after she finally found the courage to leave her husband with God's help.

It wasn't the bad marriage that disturbed her. That happened to so many women. So often that people were rarely even surprised by divorce now. It was the fact of how long she'd let the abuse continue and how thoroughly she had convinced herself that she wasn't being abused.

She wasn't the first woman to find herself in an intolerable situation in her marriage but she'd let it continue for eighteen years. That was what disturbed her.

It was as if her brain had taken a hiatus as far as her marriage was concerned. She'd married a man that she thought she was madly in love with only to be betrayed again and again. Yet she'd chosen to ignore that behavior and make herself believe that he really did love her.

He would tearfully tell her after each of his affairs that it would never happen again, that he loved her, that he needed her, that he wanted a life with her. Yeah, right. He needed her so much that he had another woman moved into her house the day after she moved out. That's how much he'd loved her and needed her and wanted a life with her.

In the end, she didn't even like the man he'd become but that didn't stop her from trying to save her marriage. She refused to give up. As her marriage worsened, the more desperate she'd become to save it. She would do anything, believe anything, go anywhere to make him happy but nothing did.

In moments of lucidity, she knew that it was futile to keep trying. It took two people to save a marriage but it didn't stop her from continuing the fantasy that she really did have a good marriage and that someday he would love her the way she loved him.

She'd been such an idiot..

Ramona shuddered, in spite of the steamy water, at the memory of how she'd finally found the strength to leave. It was only after she had turned back to God that she'd found the courage to leave. Afterwards, she'd muddled along for months barely able to function still wanting him but knowing that she just couldn't go back.

She'd wanted to come to the conclusion that the idea of love was a fairy tale but the romantic in her couldn't quite believe it. She knew there was real love out there and that some people were lucky enough to find it. She just didn't happen to be one of the lucky ones.

One day she looked in the mirror and just couldn't stand the person she'd become. She made the decision to take back her life, to make it her own again. Ramona began reading all the self-help books that she could find, watching Oprah and other talk shows trying to understand why she'd messed up her life so completely.

One day, Oprah had a guest on who'd written a book about simplifying your life as a way to find happiness. She'd bought the book the next day and began reading it. When Ramona got to the section about creativity, it hit her like a ton of bricks. She needed to write.

She sat down at her computer and began to make up a story. She didn't know where it came from but her fingers flew across the keyboard. She didn't know what she was going to say until she saw it on the screen. She wrote late into the night but woke up feeling energized.

In the morning, when she reread with the practiced eye of a life long reader, and she was surprised to find that it wasn't too bad. She felt proud of her creative endeavor. She shared it with a few friends who'd loved it and encouraged her to write more. It was the first time in a very long time that she'd felt proud of anything she'd done.

That had been almost five years ago.

She began writing seriously, always dreaming of the day she would become published. That dream sustained her through sleepless nights, lonely holidays, weekends and summers. At night, she didn't fantasize of a man's arms around her but her name on the cover of a book and now it was finally going to happen. She felt a tingle of excitement. She would finally see her name on the cover of a book.

There'd been more times than she could remember when she wanted to give up. It seemed unobtainable. She'd sent out so many letters to so many agents and publishers that she wondered if she were single handedly keeping the postal service in business.

Billows of steam pulsated from the shower nozzle. She turned slowly allowing herself to be drenched. Streams of water ran in her eyes blurring her vision. She felt along the shelf until her hand found the shampoo bottle. She poured the vanilla scented shampoo on her red curls then reversed the water control. Cold water stung her body awake. She turned her face upwards allowing the water to clean away the cobwebs of the night's sleep.

She stepped out of the shower feeling awake and energized, ready to face the day, her day. She shook off the water and grabbed for a towel. The towel was thick and luxuriant with the hotel's insignia on it. She frowned at the insignia. She'd been more than a little surprised when her agent had told her that the publishing company was footing the bill at the five star hotel for the week.

Book publishers were notoriously cheap and they certainly didn't cater to their newest and as yet unproven writers. Her agent, Walt, had been a bit vague about it when she'd questioned him on the matter, simply telling her not to complain about treatment usually reserved for only the top writers in the industry.

She gave the insignia a last look. Something felt odd about the whole situation but she wasn't about to complain about the star treatment. She gave a shrug and put the matter out of her mind. This was to be a day of only happy thoughts. She told herself to stop being paranoid and looking for problems where there were none.

She walked to her suitcase and took out her Bible. It had been her constant companion since she'd gone back to her childhood religion. It had strengthened her and given her the courage to keep going after her divorce but even more important, it had helped her find real joy and peace again.

After her morning devotions, she walked to the hotel closet. She'd bought what she thought was the perfect suit but now it didn't seem so perfect. The steel gray suit was tailored and formal looking and very boring, she decided. It was completely opposite her usual style. It had seemed absolutely perfect in the store but now she couldn't understand what had possessed her to try it on let alone actually buy the thing.

She frowned and began to rummage through the hotel closet looking at the other clothes she'd brought with her but nothing seemed right. They were more to her liking but far too casual for such a significant meeting. She shrugged and slipped on the power suit. It would have to do.

Her hair, which she preferred to call strawberry blonde, contrasted perfectly with the steel gray material. The gray brought out the blueness of her eyes. The tailored suit showed off the waist she worked so hard to keep. Being short and loving to eat meant she either had to work out or look like her grandmother. She chose to workout.

Ramona looked at the clock and grimaced. Time to stop dawdling or she really would be late. She gathered up her still damp hair and pulled it back into a large antique brass barrette letting the curls cascade down her back. She knew she was too old to wear her hair so long but she didn't have the heart to cut it. Women in her age bracket should wear short chic styles not the unmanageable mop that adorned her head.

She carefully applied her makeup, just the way the make up consultant at the department store had demonstrated. She watched in amazement as her freckles disappeared supplanted with the clear creamy complexion she should have been born with. She looked in the mirror, surprised at the image that stared back. She'd been replaced with a sophisticated clone of herself. Her blue eyes sparkled with anticipation at the day ahead.

Her eyes darted to the clock. Somehow she had managed to fritter away the time and now she really was behind schedule. She would have to skip breakfast. Her stomach growled in protest but there was nothing that could be done. Ramona walked out of her hotel and into the streets of New York City.

CHAPTER TWO

The handsome blond man sat behind the desk scowling at the phone. His amber eyes grew darker with every word as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. It was obvious that he wasn't happy with whomever was on the other end of the line.

His fist slammed against the desk. "Martha." He bellowed. "It was your alcoholic daughter that managed to get herself and my daughter killed along with an innocent family. I won't have anything to do with this lawsuit. It's not as if you need the money. Just let it go, Martha." He forced himself to speak in a calmer voice. "I know you loved her but this won't bring her or Lacey back."

He slammed the phone down and paced around his tiny cubicle of an office like a caged tiger but that didn't ease the pain. It had been more than a year since his precious daughter was killed in that awful accident but whenever he said her name, the pain felt as if he'd only found out seconds before.

He picked up the chair and smashed it to the floor, pieces of wood flew through the air in all directions. A smell of wood permeated his office. His breathing was ragged and he forced himself to calm down. He knew from months of experience that nothing could make him feel better, not breaking a chair, not crying alone at night in his bed, not cursing God.

Nothing would bring Lacey back and so for months he'd sleepwalked through each day barely able to function. His boss had finally insisted he start therapy or quit his job. He'd chosen to keep his job.

He went back to the desk and opened a drawer and picked up a picture frame. He lovingly touched the silver framed picture of his daughter. His eyes filled with tears at the sight of the beautiful little girl with golden curls and the trusting blue eyes. She had trusted him to keep her safe and he had failed her. "I'm sorry, Lacey. I'm so sorry, Baby. Daddy loves you and always will."

He attempted to choke back the sobs that bubbled up but failed as he failed every morning so he sobbed. After a few minutes, he stopped and opened the drawer and reluctantly put the picture away. He ran his finger over the girl's angelic smile before he closed it away for the day.

He wiped away the tears and took several deep cleansing breaths. He allowed himself those few minutes each day to wallow in his self-pity and self-loathing. Then, he would put it away in the drawer with the picture and get on with his day and his life, such as it was.

It had been his therapist's idea and it seemed to be working. He was finally smiling again. He was even dating some. Not that it meant anything to him but it did help to fill the long lonely hours after work.

For months after the death of his daughter, he had been immobilized by grief and anger. The grief and anger were still there but he was back at his job and beginning to heal. Today was supposed to be a good day for him but his ex-mother-in-law had managed to ruin that but her announcement that she was suing someone and wanted him to participate in the lawsuit. He shook his head in disgust. He would have nothing to do with such a ridiculous idea.

Time to get to work. From a financial point of view, he didn't need a job but, oh how, he needed his job. It was helping him to regain his sanity. He had good days and bad days. This would be a good day. He smiled. He'd been looking forward to it for the past few months.

When Adam saw Mona's name during the monthly meeting where they discussed whether to take on a new project, he couldn't believe that it could be the same Ramona Meyers he'd known, fell in love with, and then been dumb enough to lose but it had been the very same Ramona Meyers.

He'd been in love with her or as in love as a twenty year old boy can be but he'd blown his chance and their paths had never crossed since not that he hadn't tried. He'd gone to social events, even his class reunions, hoping to run into her but it hadn't happened. He'd been too cowardly to just call her up. It was as if she just dropped off the face of the earth. He'd eventually married someone else.

Adam had called in a few favors and managed to be named her editor even though it wasn't in the usual genre that he worked with. He'd arranged for her to stay in one of the best hotels in the city the past few days at his own expense. Then, as a surprise, he was planning on taking her upstate to his cottage to finish the editing that needed to be done.

It was all work that could have been done from her own home using computers and faxes without a trip to New York City but he'd thought it would be fun to see her again and he needed some fun. He was ready for some fun. Not that he had any romantic notions about her. She was, no doubt, happily married with a brood of her own kids.

When he'd told his boss, Ben, about his plans, he'd agreed to them even though they weren't the usual treatment for a beginner writer. Truth be told, Ben was just happy to see Adam excited about a project. Adam had figured his boss would be a good sport about it and he had been. Especially when he found out it wouldn't cost him or the company a penny and it would make the company look good besides.

It would be good for Adam to spend time with someone from home. They could laugh and talk over old memories and maybe for awhile he might feel like the other Adam. The Adam that existed before the horrible accident.

Adam sighed and looked at the pieces of wood scattered about his office. It wasn't like him to lose control. He left his desk and began to pick up the broken pieces of the chair. He wished that it could be that easy to clean up his own life.

CHAPTER THREE

Ramona may have grown up in rural Ohio but she'd seen enough of the world to consider herself fairly sophisticated. She'd lived in Cleveland for many years and had traveled to many places including Paris, Mexico City, Rome and London. She was not a country bumpkin who'd just fallen off the turnip truck. Even so, she'd never experienced anything quite like the streets of New York during rush hour on the first work day of the week.

There were cars as far as Ramona could see in every direction with bicycles and motorcycles weaving in and out of them. Horns were blaring, tires were squealing, and voices were yelling. Waves of people kept coming down the street with no end in sight. People jostled each other on the crowded sidewalks as they hurried off to work.

It took fifteen minutes but she finally managed to hail down a cab. The cab chugged along at a snail's pace through the congested streets. Ramona took turns looking at her watch and then gawking at the sights around her.

There were people of every imaginable shape, size, and color. Some were wearing business clothes while others wore traditional garb from their native lands. She could only shake her head at the clothes the young people wore. As a teacher, she'd thought she'd become immune to teenagers and their ridiculous fashions but she had been wrong.

Even though it was morning, venders were already setting up their portable wagons with food from around the world. Her mouth salivated at the smells that assaulted her as they inched through the city. She wished she'd made the time for breakfast. Her stomach rumbled in protest at the fragrant smells. She saw signs announcing hot dogs, french fries, hamburgers, gyros, souvlaki, crepes, fish and chips, and any other food that any one could possible crave.

The cab finally pulled up in front of the building. She hadn't been sure if the taxi driver had understood her English when she'd given him the address of the building but apparently he had. She looked at her watch, she was already three minutes late.

"Fifty-five dollar." The driver announced in a loud voice.

At the hotel, he'd told her it would be thirty-five. Ramona with hands on hips opened her mouth to protest but then closed it. She didn't have the time to waste arguing. She dug around in her purse and threw the extra money at him. As she walked away, she heard him yell a rude word and then something about a tip. She wanted to go back and give him a piece of her mind but she forced herself to focus on the issue at hand which was to get to her publisher's office without being any later than she already was.

She pushed her way through the mob of people and into the building. She smoothed her hair down, surprised to find that it was still mostly in place. Only a few strands had managed to free themselves.

She followed the other people coming in and found the elevator where dozens of others were already standing and waiting but she figured she would still be one of the last ones to squeeze on. The elevator doors opened and people rudely shoved past her crowding in front of her. The doors closed without her. She looked in frustration as more people crowded around her waiting for the next elevator.

She took a look at her watch again. The minutes were ticking away. She was now almost ten minutes late. She saw there was no way she was going to make the next set of elevators either. Too many people had already shoved past her. She shook her head at the rude behaviors. This would never happen in Cleveland.

She only needed to go to the third floor. She looked around for stairs, a little exercise never hurt. Ramona was out of breath and a few more of the crimson strands had escaped by the time she reached the third floor.

She took a moment to tuck them all back in their rightful place. It served her right for forgetting to pack her mousse. Her hair could be very stubborn at times and it seemed the more important the occasion the more stubborn it could be.

After she'd gotten herself together she began searching for the office. She found it without a problem. At least, something was going her way, she thought. She checked her watch once more. She was now seventeen minutes late.

She felt her anxiety level rising. She hated being late and yet she always managed to be late to appointments. She was sure a shrink would have a logical explanation for her. She told herself to calm down. It wasn't the end of the world. It wasn't as if they would change their mind about her book because she was a few minutes late. She made a face at the thought. At least, she hoped that wouldn't happen.

Ramona stopped and gathered herself together before going in. She was about to fulfill her life long ambition and nothing could stop her now. No reason to be nervous. She took a deep breath and opened the door. All the hustle, bustle and madness of the city melted away as the door clicked quietly behind her.

Classical music filled the room. The office was carpeted in a lovely beige with walls that matched with only a few pieces of tasteful art breaking up the softness of the beige. The lights were soft not the hard unflattering glare of flourescent lights. The room even smelled calm. Her heart slowed down a few beats but not nearly enough.

"Good morning." The woman behind the desk was holding a phone to her ear. She wore a tan suit that blended in with the beige room. "It's okay, I'm on hold. I have been for ten minutes now." She explained with a gentle smile. The woman was somewhere in her fifties, Ramona guessed. She had short dark hair and kind eyes. "You must be Ramona Myers. They're waiting for you inside." She motioned toward a door with her elbow.

Ramona nodded. "Yes, I am. I'm late." She immediately felt stupid for telling the woman. The woman obviously knew that Ramona was late, an appointment book sat opened in front of her.

"Don't worry about it, hon." The secretary leaned closer. "Take a deep breath. Let me give you a piece of advice. I know you new authors are always so grateful but remember they're going to be making money off of you. You are part of the team, a really important part. Don't let them push you around."

She looked at the phone with disgust and then hung up. "I have a policy of not holding more than fifteen minutes even if I am talking to Spielberg's people." She rolled her eyes and gave a hearty laugh that came out sounding like a bark. She held out her hand.

"I'm Paula. Congratulations on getting published. I read your book. It was good. I'm always here so if you ever have a question, feel free to call me. Now you go on in there, hon, and don't you even think about apologizing. You just give them some attitude. You just start complaining about the rotten cab drivers in this town. It works every time." She winked at Ramona and then turned back to answer the phone that was ringing once again.

Ramona walked toward the door but hesitated. She was suddenly terrified. Her mouth was dry and her stomach was doing such violent somersaults that she thought she might be sick. She just knew she was going to make a fool of herself.

She lifted her hand to knock but remembered Paula's advice so instead she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, gave her head a toss and walked in like she owned the place. The two men sitting on opposite sides of the desk looked up.

She started to apologize for being late but stopped, instead thinking attitude with a capital A. "I know I'm late but my cab was so slow and I'm pretty sure that he might have cheated me."

The man behind the desk stood up. "At least he got you here, that's more than you can count on in this city. Hello, I'm Benjamin Downs." He held out a well-manicured hand. It was a firm but warm handshake.

So, this was Benjamin Downs, the man that was making her dreams come true. She'd only heard of him from her agent who happened to be the other man sitting in the room. Benjamin looked just the way you'd expect a successful publisher to look, a great suit, an even greater haircut with black hair and a sprinkling of gray, tall and tanned. He wasn't handsome in the classic sense but he oozed confidence, classiness, warmth and power and that made for an appealing package.

Ramona was suddenly glad that she'd worn the power suit even if it felt tight and uncomfortable. She knew she looked good. She smiled back with a confidence that she didn't feel. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Downs." She turned to the other man in the room. "Good morning, Walt."

Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson was her agent but he went by Walt. He'd joked that with a name like Ralph Waldo Emerson, he had no choice but to go into the book business and since he had no talent for writing he'd become a literary agent instead..

He was short, thin, balding with glasses and his prominent Adam's apple bobbed as he spoke. He looked remarkably like Don Knotts. Walt smiled at her. "Hello, Ramona. How was your hotel?"

"It was great."

The two men exchanged glances and gave each other a knowing look. She didn't like the way it made her feel. She felt like the odd man out as if they knew a secret and she didn't. They all sat back down and Benjamin Downs smiled at her. He looked like the cat that had eaten the canary.

She wondered what was up. She sat down next to Walt, grateful for one familiar face in the room. She'd talk to him on the phone several times and finally met him the night before. He seemed like an old friend now. Her pulse was racing but she forced herself to look calm.

Mr. Downs was all business as he handed her a final contract. She'd signed an earlier contract but her agent had renegotiated a few minor points. Her head began to swirl as words were tossed about that had no meaning for her. After about thirty minutes, the new contract was signed and Benjamin Downs hit a button on the intercom.

"We're ready for you."

The voice answered. "I'll be right there." Ramona's head jerked up at the sound of the voice but Benjamin began speaking and she focused her attention on what he was saying but failed. She looked back at the intercom trying to place the voice. There was something about that voice.

"Ramona, your editor will be your contact person here but don't hesitate to call Paula if you run into a problem. She is a force to be reckoned with by anyone in this city. If she can't handle it, she'll let me know." Benjamin leaned toward her in a conspiratorial manner. "To tell you the truth, she scares me most of the time."

They all chuckled. Ramona couldn't help but notice Benjamin Down's piercing green eyes. They sparkled with intelligence and good humor. They looked as sharp as an eagle and probably missed as little as the eyes of an eagle. An eagle could see a field mouse from a mile up in the sky. This was the feeling she got from Benjamin Downs. He didn't miss much, no doubt the key to his success.

Ramona's stomach fluttered. She could feel herself getting choked up. She told herself to stop it. The last thing she wanted to do was get emotional in front of two men that she barely knew. The emotions subsided a bit.

After all those years of sitting at her computer writing and rewriting and rewriting again, she was getting her book published. She'd turned down dates, parties, invitations for weekend jaunts to this place and that. Instead, she'd preferred to spend most of her free time writing.

Her friends had accused her of being a recluse and anti-social. They hadn't taken her writing seriously. They'd just assumed it was a hobby, something to keep her busy after her divorce. They'd scoffed when she told them she needed to write instead of go to dinner.

They hadn't understood her commitment to writing. Of course, now they were all very excited and happy for her. They didn't seem to remember that they had been Doubting Thomases and Thomasinas at one time.

She looked back at the intercom. It sat quietly now but she tried to recapture the sound of that voice. There was something about that voice. She was sure that she knew that voice from somewhere but that was impossible. She didn't know any editors or she might have gotten published sooner. Connections always helped in any business and certainly that was even more true in the publishing business.

The door opened and she stood up to greet her editor. She turned toward the man with a warm smile but the smile froze on her face.

CHAPTER FOUR

Adam looked at the sophisticated woman standing before him and felt a twinge of disappointment. He knew it was ludicrous but somehow he'd expected to the see the eighteen-year-old Mona standing in the room waiting for him. This woman was very beautiful indeed but she wasn't the girl he remembered.

That girl was a free spirit with an infectious laugh that you would do anything, no matter how ridiculous and silly, just to hear again. Her smile could make you dizzy. That girl would have jumped in to his arms and squealed with delight. Instead, this woman stood staring at him with a snide look that resembled a smile.

This woman was dressed in a somber business suit, her hair pulled back in a no nonsense style and even her freckles were gone. He shrugged inwardly. Oh, well, it was absurd to have thought that she wouldn't have changed. He'd changed more than he liked to think about.

Ramona's smile remained frozen and now she knew she absolutely was going to be sick. She sat back down. She prayed a silent prayer for strength. Her knees felt too shaky to hold her up. She could feel all eyes on her and knew she needed to do something or say something, not just sit there with a stupid smile pasted on her face.

She opened her mouth but no words came out. She managed to stand back up albeit with shaky legs. She looked at the three men in the room. They all looked back at her with goofy grins on their faces. It was obvious they were all in on this horrible joke, not that she found anything even remotely funny about the situation.

A fleeting thought came to her, even though her brain didn't seem to be functioning at the moment. Maybe, she wasn't going to get published after all. Maybe, the whole thing had been some elaborate hoax. Perhaps, her ex-husband had orchestrated it as some bizarre form of revenge. He was still furious at her for daring to leave him.

Adam gave a little chuckle. "I know I should have called to warn you but I thought it would be more fun this way. I wanted to see your reaction."

More fun for whom, she wanted to scream. Certainly not for her. Hadn't he had enough fun humiliating her all those years ago, making her the laughing stock of their home town? Did he have to do it again and on this day of all days? This was to have been her day, not his. How dare he ruin her day.

"Adam, I'm stunned. I'm just speechless. I just don't know what to say." There were many things she wanted to say but this was neither the place nor the time. She had fantasized many times about what she would say when the day came that she finally saw him. At one time, she'd known the speech she would give him word for word but that was a long time ago.

She'd gotten over him a long time ago but still she'd like to give him a piece of her mind. And now he stood before her and she couldn't say any of those things. Her shock was quickly being replaced with the old anger and resentment that she'd thought she'd left behind years ago.

She smiled sweetly and daintily held out a hand to him, not because she wanted to but she didn't know what else to do. They were all looking at her waiting for her to do something. He looked the same only older but certainly no wiser, she thought to herself. His dark sandy blonde hair was more stylish but not even a hint of gray could be seen. He was such an egotist that he probably colored it. He wore jeans and a sweater that emphasized his muscles and a flat stomach. She couldn't help but notice how well-defined his muscles were. He must spend most of his time at some gym working out.

She looked into his eyes. His eyes had always been the key to reading his moods. His brown eyes changed colors reflecting his feelings. Right then, they were the color of chocolate ice cream, a happy color. He ignored her outstretched hand and instead opened both of his arms to her as if she should just walk in to them like she had so many years ago.

That wasn't going to happen that day or any other day. She'd learned her lesson about trusting Adam Miles. She stood her ground so he walked to her and hugged her. She stiffened as his arms went around her. Anger seethed inside her.

He felt her tense up as he hugged her. He felt a sense of disappointment. This cold woman was definitely not the warm fun loving friend of his youth. Nevertheless, his voice oozed charm as he spoke. "It's been a long time, huh, Mona?"

She flicked an imaginary piece of lint off her skirt, then looked up to meet his questioning eyes. "Yes, a very long time, Adam. You certainly did manage to surprise me." She said in a cool voice being sure to keep her tumultuous emotions hidden.

She turned to Walt and Benjamin. "Adam and I grew up in the same small town together but I suspect you might already know that. His sister and I were best friends. I spent so much time at their house that we practically grew up as sister and brother."

"Well, I don't know about brother and sister, Mona." Adam interjected with a teasing tone.

She ignored his teasing. "I go by Ramona now."

"Well, that's going to be a point under discussion but we'll save it for later."

Adam gave her a smile that said he was in control and the thought infuriated her because she knew it was true. It wasn't fair, she'd worked very hard to get to this point. He didn't have the right to take that from her.

Benjamin gave her a captivating smile. "Yes, we know that you and Adam were friends. We were all in on the surprise. Adam told me that you two were old high school friends but he didn't tell me just how beautiful you were. If I'd known that I might have had him change his plans and keep you in the city so I could get to know you better."

Ramona wondered what he meant by plans Adam had made but she flashed Benjamin a thousand watt smile and looked up at him through her lowered lashes hating herself as she shamelessly flirted with the man. "I would have loved that. I've never been to New York before except as a stopover. It would be great to see a New Yorker's New York, Mr. Downs.."

"Call me Ben. Everyone does. We don't like to be too formal here."

"Okay, Ben." She heard the simper in her voice but couldn't help herself. Adam Miles needn't think that he meant anything to her, then or now. She had no feelings for him except, perhaps, some leftover anger but not even much of that. He wasn't worth the energy. She'd laid those feelings to rest long ago. She may have thought of him now and then and wondered what her life would have been like had they married, but then she would push those thoughts to a small corner of her heart.

Ramona threw a cold glance in Adam's direction before she turned back all smiles to Benjamin. She moved a step closer to Benjamin and gave his arm a light touch.

"What kind of plans are you talking about, Ben?" She asked lightly but with a sense of foreboding. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like those plans any more than she had liked her surprise.

"I'll let Adam tell you since it's his surprise."

"Another surprise. I don't think I can take another one." She gave a sultry laugh to show that she was joking. Inside, she cringed wondering what kind of plans Adam had made for her.

Adam watched the exchanged and realized that not only had she changed physically but she seemed to be a conniving wench who was more than willing to use her feminine wiles to get what she wanted and she had plenty of feminine wiles. He had to admit to himself that she had become a beautiful woman.

Not that it mattered to him how she lived her life but she'd always been such a sweet honest person. He was appalled to see just how much she'd changed.

"I took the liberty of making plans for us to work upstate in a cottage, Mona. I thought you would be more comfortable there instead of in a hotel room in the city."

"It's Ramona." She reminded him. The last thing she wanted was to spend a week in a cottage with Adam Miles, her first love and the first man to break her heart.

"Not for long." Adam flashed her a beguiling smile. "We think Mona Myers has a better ring to it." He turned from her and looked back at his boss as if the matter of her name were settled.

Benjamin smiled down at Ramona. "Is that alright with you, Ramona? About the cottage, I mean?"

The men all turned to look at her. Here was her chance to put a stop to this. Her face felt hot and she forced herself not to stammer. "It's fine, just fine. It's not a problem at all. It's just that I thought I would be spending the week here in New York and..." Her voice trailed off. She didn't know what else to say.

"I can cancel the plans if you prefer staying in the city, Mona." Adam said in a smooth tone that only managed to infuriate Ramona.

"No, that's fine. It's not a problem at all." She said cooly and flicked another imaginary hair off her suit to give her some where to look other than into his warm deep brown eyes that tugged at her heartstrings. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of thinking that she had any feelings for him. "Just give me directions and I'll get there but there could be a problem with the name." She looked back at Adam with challenge in her eyes. "I'm rather partial to Ramona Myers."

He shook his head. "Well, I ran the possibilities past a lot of people and we all agree that Mona Myers is the way to go. It's the sort of name that a reader can remember."

She looked at her agent with exasperation. "Don't I have some say about this?"

Walt's eyes bulged. He didn't like confrontation. "Of course, you do. Of course, you do but I have to agree with them. Mona Meyers has a nice ring to it." He patted her shoulder as he spoke. "I'm sure the two of you will be able to work this out, being old friends and all."

Adam interrupted with a grin that so aggravated her that she fought an urge to slap his face. "I'm sure we will, Walt. And no need for directions, I rented a car. It will drive you back to the hotel so you can pack your things. Take your time and pick me up here when you're ready to leave."

She glowered at him while he gazed at her sweetly completely oblivious to her emotional state. Could he really be this obtuse? He was just trying to torment her, she decided but then realized she was being ridiculous.

He had no idea how she was feeling. After all, they hadn't seen each other in years. He couldn't know just how much he had hurt her. She hadn't even known that she was still angry at him until he'd waltzed in to the room a few minutes before just the way he'd waltzed out of her life years ago, without any warning.

"That's not going to work." She said it more sharply than she'd meant to. Benjamin Downs' eagle eyes narrowed at the tone of her voice. She made an effort to normalize her tone. She didn't want him to think anything was wrong. She knew she was being silly. "I made lunch plans and I just can't break them. Just give me directions and I'll get there." Then she turned back to Benjamin with another one of those charming smiles. "But if you think I should, I can cancel my plans."

He smiled back at her warmly. "No reason to do that. Just keep the car and get there when you get there and Adam can find his own way there. If that's okay with you, Adam?"

They all turned to look at Adam. Ramona saw that smirk she knew so well. It was the same look she'd seen a thousand times when he got his way. There was nothing she could do about it. She wanted her book published and if that meant dealing with the devil himself then that was what she was prepared to do.

CHAPTER FIVE

Three hours later, Mona threw herself into the back of the waiting limo, still furious at the circumstances she found herself in and wondering how it had happened. She'd spent the past three hours, not at a lunch date as she'd told the men, but pacing her hotel room. Trying to calm herself down and trying to understand why she was so upset about the situation anyway.

She was amazed at all the feelings that a five minute meeting with Adam Miles had managed to bring to the surface. It didn't make sense to her why she was so upset. Still, she'd kept trying to figure a graceful way out of this situation without actually letting Adam know that she was upset at seeing him again after all these years.

She didn't know how this could have happened. It was just unbelievable that here she was ready to fulfill her lifelong dream of getting a book published and who should be her editor but the first man that broke her heart. It really was a small world, after all.

She didn't want Adam Miles to be her editor. She didn't want Adam Miles to have that kind of power over her. She didn't want Adam Miles in her life again. He'd been there once and it hadn't turned out well for her and there was no reason to think he'd changed.

She had no desire to get involved with another man that would be bad for her. She'd had her share of abusive relationships and she was done with it. She wasn't like a lot of women that kept repeating the same mistake over and over.

Even after three hours of pacing, she was still wound up. She took a deep breath and tried to relax. She looked around at the limo Adam had rented for her. She couldn't help but be impressed with it.

The limo was bordering on hedonistic, leather seats, a built-in car phone, a wet bar, and a TV with a VCR, a refrigerator with snacks. She rubbed her hands against the buttery soft seats that were the color of burgundy wine and decided she could get use to this kind of treatment. Of course, Benjamin Downs had warned her not to get use to this kind of star treatment before she'd left his office. He'd explained this week was really a gift from Adam not from the company.

She wondered why Adam was being so sweet to her. What did he want from her this time? He, no doubt, was just being nice to her, a girl from his home town. He probably didn't even remember that they'd gone out together and it had only been a few times. It probably hadn't even been important to him.

He had always been a nice guy. Everyone said so. No one had a bad thing to say about Adam, except Ramona, of course. She could say a lot of nasty things about him. How he'd stolen her heart and then stomped on it breaking it into a million pieces. At the time, she was sure she'd never love again but eventually she'd gotten over him and gotten on with her life.

She never completely forgot about him as much as she tried to. There was always that small corner of her heart that he occupied. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply several times. She felt her heart rate drop a bit. She tried to come up with a logical reason why she was so disturbed at seeing Adam again. True, he had acted like a snake in the grass but it had all happened so many years ago. There was no reason to feel any animosity toward him now.

They'd both been young and foolish. They'd both gone on to live their own lives without each other. It wasn't his fault that she had messed hers up. Mistakes of youth are to be forgiven and she'd thought she'd done that years ago.

She knew her emotional reaction was ridiculous and way over the top considering how long ago it had all happened but she couldn't stop the feelings. It was as if he'd opened a dam and she was trying to stop it with her finger. And it wasn't working.

She would just have to deal with this. She promised herself she wouldn't allow her emotions to interfere with the job ahead. Nothing would interfere with her book getting published, not even a jerk like Adam Miles. There was nothing to be done about it but make the best of a bad situation and she had no illusions that for her this was a bad situation.

She thought back to the visceral reaction she'd had when Adam walked into the room that morning. She told herself that the strong emotional reaction had just been surprise, nothing more. She hadn't been prepared to see him. She hadn't seen him in almost thirty years. In fact, she'd gone out of her way to make sure that she didn't see him. She'd avoided class reunions or going back to her hometown for fear of seeing him.

Now, that she had time to process the shock, she knew there were no leftover feelings for him. How could there be? He meant nothing to her now. Certainly, from time to time she wondered what her life might have been like had she made different choices but that didn't mean that she still had feelings for him.

She hadn't meant anything to him anyway. He had certainly proven that. She'd been young and naive but he'd helped teach her a valuable lesson. She decided she just needed closure. She'd never confronted him, never told him how he'd hurt her. She decided that was what all this emotion was about. She just needed closure.

She smiled grimly. Actually, the week might be very good for her, she decided. She would be able to exorcize this particular demon from her past. She would finally get closure and that was really all she needed from Adam Miles, some closure. He wasn't important to her and hadn't been for a long long time. She didn't still care about him. She didn't even know him. She didn't even know what kind of person he'd become.

With that thought, she leaned back to relax and enjoy the ride but jerked back up. It occurred to her that she needed to write while her emotions were still raw. Writing it all down would help with closure and hopefully get rid of some of the emotion bubbling inside her.

Writing had become her own personal form of therapy and it could possibly even make a great story. She could expand it, add some interesting events and quirky characters and it could become her second book but for now she needed to write the story the way it had happened so long ago or, at least, the way she remembered it happening.

She reached for her laptop.

"Adam, Adam. Leave us alone." The two ten year old girls screamed and giggled from their perch in the big apple tree. "We're going to tell." Each girl grabbed a green apple from the leafy branches of the tree and pelted Adam with them. Adam continued throwing the dead snake at them while they squealed in disgust.

Adam was the older brother of Becky. The tree belonged to Mona and had belonged to her for an entire three days. They'd been best friends since the moment her parents had moved into the house three days before.

They were complete opposites of each other but nevertheless had become instant friends. Becky was tall even at the age of eight. Mona was short, so short that she had to roll up her pants when her Mom didn't hem them quick enough to suit her. Becky was feminine to the point of being fragile and Mona was a tomboy who thought nothing of getting into fights with boys that teased her, especially when they teased her because of her height. Becky's hair's was so blonde it could only be described as white and Mona's was bright red.

That first summer wore on and the three children were inseparable playing together from sunup to sundown coming in only when their parents forced them to but as with all good things, the summer came to an end.

The season changed from the hot sunny days of summer to the cool days of autumn. As the autumn leaves changed from green to orange, red, yellow and brown, so did the friendship of the three children, never to return to those halcyon days of that first golden summer.

Adam was promoted to junior high and was too busy and way too cool to notice the little girls left behind in elementary school except to tease them mercilessly when he had nothing better to do with his time.

But the girls remained best friends.

As Mona wrote those last words, she felt the tears threatening as the often did when she thought of Becky. She opened the bar that was built into the back of the front seat and found a bottle of wine. She chose burgundy to match the color of the seats of the limo. She looked at the label. It looked like the good stuff not that she knew what she was doing. She poured it into a crystal goblet. She tapped her nail on it and heard the ping of expensive crystal. It was definitely the good stuff.

The red liquid swirled against her tongue. It trickled down her throat, drop by drop. She savored the tartness. She didn't drink often but did enjoy good wine. She leaned back and closed her eyes, taking another sip. She didn't want to think about Susanna. This story was about Adam not Susanna.

It didn't surprise her that thoughts of Susanna still saddened her. Susanna had been the best friend she'd ever had and Ramona had never gotten over the feeling that she had somehow failed Susanna in some way.

She opened her eyes, sat back up and took a deep breath. She knew she had to write about Susanna. Susanna was part of the story and Ramona would not leave her out of the story in spite of the pain. A writer has to be true to the story. She poured more wine.

If she was going to tell the story, then she would tell all of the story.

It was the summer of 1969. Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. It was the year of Aquarius, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and Easy Rider. Vietnam, Ho Chi Minh and Chappaquiddick. Ugly hurtful words were screamed across dinner tables as different generations shook their head in disgust at the other's ideas. The sixties may have been coming to an end but not the unrest or the social changes that they'd ushered in were just beginning.

All Susanna could talk about that summer was a music festival somewhere in New York. She asked her parents to let her go. They said no. She begged her parents. They said no. She told me she was going anyway and asked me to go. I said no.

I wished I'd said yes, Ramona thought to herself as she poured more wine. The older mature Ramona knew that it probably wouldn't have made a difference but she couldn't help but wonder.

I was sleeping when the phone rang that morning in August and I heard my mother yell my name from downstairs. I tried to ignore her but she kept yelling so I got up and put on my pink robe and pink fuzzy slippers and padded down the steps with a grumpy look on my face.

She handed me the phone with a worried look.

"Mona, this is Mrs. Miles. Is Susanna there with you?"

I looked at my mom with confusion but she just glared back. "No, she's not here."

"Do you know where she is?"

"No. Why?"

"She's not in her bed and it doesn't look as if she slept in it last night. I didn't even know she was upset. Did she say anything to you?"

"No, she didn't." I was awake now and worried. Susanna was rebellious by nature and tended to get into trouble. She was the one that had gone skinny dipping. She was the one that had tried marijuana. She was the one that had gotten drunk. She was the one that had begun to experiment with sex. "Let me call some of our friends and then I'll call you back."

I spent the next thirty minutes calling but no one knew where Susanna was or where she might be. I ran upstairs, dressed and ran across the yard.. Adam was crossing their yard and heading in the direction of ours.

We met at the old apple tree where years before he'd thrown snakes at us. I sat down in the old tire swing that was still tied to the branch. No one ever used it any more but my dad refused to take it down. Adam threw himself on the ground and leaned against the trunk.

"Hi Mona. What is going on?" He quickly looked behind him to make sure neither of his parents were outside and heard him curse. "Where is she?"

"I don't know. I really don't." Susanna had run away a few other times but it had always been to a friend's house and I always knew where she was each time so I could let her family know that she was okay. After a day or so, she would cool down and go home.

"Did she have another fight with your Mom and Dad?"

He shook his head. His sandy blonde hair fell in his face as he did. "Not that I know of. Unless they had it when I was at work. She didn't say anything at all to you?" He didn't sound like he believed me.

I had been moving my feet in the grass to move the swing but I stopped and looked at him. "I'm not lying, Adam. I'm not stupid. I would tell where she was if I knew." I yelled at him. "Haven't I always told before?"

He brushed his hair out of his eyes. His hair was chin length and only one the many things he managed to argue with his father about. "All right, all right. Don't get yourself all worked up."

"Don't tell me what to do." I screamed back at him. He gave me the finger which I chose to ignore. Instead I begin to twirl in the tire swing so he couldn't see that he'd hurt my feelings. I had such a crush on him but I hadn't even told Susanna about it and I sure didn't want him to know that he could make me cry.

He was so cool, so groovy. He played in a rock band with some other guys and sometimes on weekends they played at dances at the YMCA. Susanna and I always went but we'd make sure we told them how awful they were afterwards.

We talked for a few more minutes and he said he was going to go look for her. I wanted to go with him but he said no and I said that was fine with me. I didn't really want to go with him anyway. I went back inside to face the inquisition that was waiting for me from my mom. She finally stopped bugging me when she was satisfied that I was telling her the truth when I said I didn't know where Susanna was.

I turned on the TV and watched soap operas and games shows all afternoon. During commercials I would run over to the Miles to see if they had heard from Susanna or I would call another friend to see if they'd heard from her. They hadn't. Nobody had. No one had any idea where Susanna was.

As the afternoon wore on, my stomach began to knot up with worry. No one knew where Susanna was or where she might be. It wasn't like her to be so inconsiderate. She could be stubborn and bratty at times but she loved her parents. She wouldn't make them worry like this.

We sat down to dinner though none of us were hungry. My parents were as worried as I was. No one spoke much and we could hear Walter Cronkite giving the day's news on the tv set in the other room. We heard the weekly body count of the war. Then I heard him talking about a rock concert on a farm in New York where thousands and thousands of people were showing up.

I jumped up out of my seat knocking my chair over in the process. I ran to the living room without turning it upright. I could hear my mother yelling at me to pick up the chair but I ignored her. Walter Cronkite was talking about all these people showing up at a farm for some music festival. There wasn't anywhere for the kids to sleep or eat. Some cop talked about safety and health issues and the fact that they were sure many of the kids showing up were runaways but there were so many they couldn't do anything about it.

By then, my parents were standing beside me. They were staring at me instead of the TV set. I licked my lips. I didn't know what to do. Should I tell them what I thought or just ignore it? They were still watching me.

I pointed to the TV set. "I think that's where Susanna is."

Of course, there was whole different story on now so they had no idea what I was talking about. After I explained it to them, we all walked over together to the Miles' house. They were at their dinner table too but no one was talking or eating. Mrs. Miles eyes were red from crying.

I explained about the music festival in New York. No one argued with me after I told them. That was a scary moment when we all realized that Susanna was, no doubt, on her way to this Woodstock place or already there.

We sat in their living room as Mr. Miles called the police of our town hoping they could help him find Susanna. They were very apologetic but said the only thing they could do was take a missing persons report. They couldn't really help him except to give him the number of the police in New York.

It took over thirty minutes of constantly dialing the number but finally they were able to get through. Those police said the same thing they'd said on the TV news. There were just too many kids. There was no way they could go looking for Susanna but they took down her name and a description and promised they would call if they happened to find her.

Adam hadn't said a word the whole time we were there except to agree with me. He'd just sat quietly, listening to his father argue with the police about looking for Susanna. But now he brushed his hair out of his face. "I think I should go up there and try and find her."

All four parents looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.

Mr. Miles was the first to react. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm going up there, not you."

"Dad, think about it. No one is going to talk to you or help you find her. They're all hippies and flower children up there. They won't talk to you but they will me. I'll just tell them I got split up from my girlfriend and have they seen her."

They all grumbled about how it wouldn't be safe up there and my parents had the nerve to put in their two cents as if it were any of their business. I finally had heard enough. "I'm going, too."

Now they all turned on me, including Adam. Yelling and screaming that it was a ridiculous idea but I held firm. In the end, it was decided that Adam and I would both go and that both our fathers would go, too. When we got there, the fathers would go looking for her and Adam and I would stay together looking for her. The mothers would wait at the houses hoping she would call. Susanna never called.

Mona stopped typing, saved what she'd written and poured a bit more wine. She didn't want to write any more. She didn't want to think about it. Oh, why hadn't she gone with Susanna. Maybe, things would have been different if only Mona had gone with her but she'd been too afraid, too much of a goody goody to go with her. She'd let her best friend down. She took another drink, not really tasting the wine.

We drove through the night and arrived at Woodstock early Saturday morning. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen before or since. There were more people than I'd ever seen in one place. People were sleeping in sleeping bags, blankets, lawn chairs, even on the ground. Some had clothes on, many did not.

It was wet and muddy and no one seemed to care. Some people were sleeping but most people were dancing or listening to the music that blared from the stage even at that early hour. Adam and my father set their watches and agreed to meet back at the entrance in three hours whether any of us had found Susanna or not. My father gave me a stern warning not to leave Adam's side which I solemnly promised.

Adam grabbed my hand and we walked through the crowd checking the faces of each of the girls. Every so often Adam would stop and show Susanna's picture but no one ever admitted to seeing her.

Everywhere we walked people were high and offered us every kind of drug imaginable. Most of them I had never heard of before. Some of the more practical people offered us food but we weren't hungry. People were dancing naked in the early morning drizzle. More than once we stepped over people passed out. People were having sex with each other out in the open not seeming to care who saw them. For three hours we walked through the throngs of people but found no sign of Susanna.

We met back at the entrance, checked in with the fathers who'd had no better luck and we began the trek again in different directions. My feet hurt but I didn't complain. I wanted to find Susanna. It was raining harder but none of the people there seemed to care. Everyone seemed happy. The music kept going and the people kept dancing.

Adam kept hold of my hand. I loved the way my hand felt in his. The warmth of his hand spread through my body. I pretended that we were boyfriend and girlfriend, just there to have fun like all the rest.

Out of nowhere a naked girl came running up to me. She grabbed me by the arm. Her nails dug into my flesh. I squealed in surprise and pain. "Help me. Help me." She cried over and over. Soon, we were surrounded by a group of people that assured me they were her friends. They weren't trying to hurt her, she'd just gotten hold of some bad acid and was freaking out.

A group of paramedics pushed their way through the circle of people and talked gently to the girl until she meekly followed behind them. One of the medics noticed the blood on my arms and told us to follow him. They would clean that up for me. We followed the workers and the girl without saying a word to each other. My stomach began to hurt but I wouldn't let myself think about why.

It took awhile but we eventually ended up at the first-aid station, if you could call the makeshift van that. We stood around until someone finally noticed us. A woman with a grim look came up to us.

"Is one of you sick or what?" She didn't have time for niceties. I pointed to the blood on my arm feeling foolish. They were people there a lot worse off than me but the woman left and was back in a moment wiping my arm with rubbing alcohol.

Adam pulled out the picture of Susanna and held it out to the woman. "We're looking for her. She's my sister. She ran away. Have you seen her?"

The woman took the picture out of his hand and looked at it. She looked up after several long moments and then back at the picture, then back at us. "This is your sister."

Adam nodded and I could only stare at the tired looking woman. My stomach hurt even worse than before. I knew she was going to say something that I didn't want to hear.

"We sent her to the hospital early this morning."

"What was wrong with her?" Adam asked. "Was it drugs?"

She patted Adam's shoulder. "I think you better get to the hospital, son." Was all the woman would say before she turned to help someone else.

Adam grabbed my hand and we started running back toward the gate. I couldn't run as fast so Adam was really pulling me along, urging me to go faster.

"What are we going to do, Adam?" I gasped out between breaths. "We can't just leave without our parents."

As if on cue, we heard my father yelling my name. We ran to them and told them what we'd found out. Susanna's Dad let out a small moan but soon we were all running back to the car. We all felt an urgency to get to that hospital as soon as possible. No one spoke on the way to the hospital. Adam still held my hand in the car.

We found the hospital without too much trouble. It was a madhouse. The little country hospital had run out of space hours before. They were not equipped to deal with this many people needing medical attention, most due to drugs but not all.

The halls were lined with beds. Kids were moaning and many of the them were strapped in their beds screaming. Doctors and nurses were running from bed to bed trying to do what they could. Everyone ignored us as we tried to ask questions.

I began to walk down the hall looking at each bed, seeing if it was Susanna. Susanna's father went to look for a doctor. It felt like a dream. Everything was moving in slow motion. I could hear my dad calling me back to him but I ignored him and kept walking from bed to bed.

And then, I was at the end of the hallway. There were only a few more beds left, heading the other direction. The people in those beds were not moving. As I got closer, I saw the sheets that were draped over the bodies. I walked up to the first bed and lifted the sheet.

I started crying. It wasn't Susanna but it was someone's best friend, it was someone's daughter. I wiped at the tears but they kept coming. I walked to the next bed. I touched the sheet. Electric shocks made their way up my body. I felt as if I were floating above all the pandemonium. I knew what I would find when I lifted up that sheet. I didn't want to look but someone had to find Susanna. She needed to go home so her Mom would stop worrying. I lifted the sheet up. From far away, I heard screaming and then the walls began to weave back and forth and then it got dark. I felt myself falling but could do nothing to help myself.

It was only later that we found out that it had been a drug overdose.

Ramona sat staring at the words she'd written, haunted by the memories they'd brought back. It had been a horrible time for her. It wasn't fair to lose your best friend to death when you were only fourteen. That wasn't the way life was supposed to happen.

"Ma'am. We're almost there." The driver's voiced jerked her back to the present. She'd become completely immersed in the past. It was if the present had fallen away leaving only Susanna and that stretcher. Ramona hit the enter button, then picked up the wine bottle but to her astonishment it was empty.

She looked around the limo to see where it had spilled. It hadn't. Then, she felt the light-headiness and realized with a sinking feeling that she must have drank the whole bottle herself. That wasn't a good thing since she rarely drank more than a glass of wine at dinner.

CHAPTER SIX

Adam stood in the kitchen gazing at the spectacular view below him. The cottage was built in to the mountain side and overlooked a lake. He never tired of looking at the view. Each season in the Adirondacks was beautiful and unique.

After Lacy had died, it had taken months before he could find the courage to come up without her. His therapist had urged him to go but he'd kept finding excuses not to. Finally, his therapist had ordered him to come up and so he had.

He'd been terrified at the thought of coming up without Lacy but when Adam had arrived, he'd been delighted to find wonderful memories of the times they'd shared. He'd found his daughter again.

It wasn't until that first trip back to the cottage that he'd been able to remember his daughter with joy and not just the pain of losing her. It had been one of his first steps back from the deep pit of grief he'd fallen into.

The cottage had belonged to his wife and her family before he'd married her but she had rarely come up with Lacy and him. It bored her, not enough bars or nightclubs to suit her taste. She preferred the New York club scene to life with Adam and Lacy.

In the summer Lacy and he would come up on a regular basis. He had taught Lacy how to ride a bike here. Every Christmas, they had a tradition of coming up to the cottage and go caroling with other neighbors and then back to someone's house for hot chocolate and cookies. He'd been glad that he could give some experience of what it was like to grow up in a small town rather than New York City.

He checked on the cake that was baking. It was his mother's recipe and had been a favorite of Mona's when they'd been younger. Mona had been a chocoholic before the word had been invented. The cake looked delicious. He would frost it later after it had cooled.

He heard a car pulling up. Perfect timing.

He opened the door just in time to see Mona falling flat on her face. She always had been a little klutzy. He rushed over to the car to help her. Adam leaned down to help her but recoiled, shocked at the smell of alcohol. She reeked of booze.

He was horrified. She'd changed even more than he realized. She must be an alcoholic to be falling down drunk this early in the day. What had he gotten himself in to? He shook his head in disgust and reached down to help her up. She pulled away.

"You're too drunk to stand up." He yelled losing his patience with her.

"I am not drunk." The words came out slurred. She pulled away from him but only managed to fall back down.

"Mona, let me help you up."

"I don't need your help and my name is Ramona, Ramona, Ramona" She yelled back at him. "And it's going to stay Ramona. You can't tell me what to do." She hiccuped on the last word.

He looked at her in amazement. Tears were streaming down her face. What was wrong with her? He shook his head, feeling nauseated at the sight of his old friend drunk on the ground. This was going to be one very long week. How had she even finished a book if she was this big of a mess?

Of course, he'd found that the more creative a person was the more baggage they brought with them. And there was no doubt that Ramona had a great deal of talent and apparently a great deal of baggage.

It wasn't his job to hold their hands but he usually ended up doing just that. But he refused to do that with Mona. She may have talent, Adam thought, but he refused to deal with this with her of all people. He'd spent enough time dealing with drunks to last him several lifetimes. All he'd wanted was a fun week with an old friend. He sighed. He guessed that wasn't going to happen now.

He took his hands off her. "Fine with me." He yelled back and stormed in the house. The door banged shut. Ramona laid her head back down on the frozen ground.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ramona woke up confused and not sure why she was in a strange bed in a strange room with a strange feeling in her stomach. Her head throbbed, her mouth tasted of dirt. She sat up and opened her eyes but the room was spinning. She fell back on the bed with a moan and squeezed her eyes tight, hoping that the spinning motion would stop.

She slowly opened them again. The ceiling above her was swirling into some very strange patterns. Her mouth began to water and her stomach clamped tight. She jumped up off the bed and looked around. She headed for the first door she saw. Luckily, it was the right room, the bathroom.

Afterwards, she slowly made her way back to the bed and laid back down. She either fell asleep or passed out. She wasn't sure which it was and at that point she didn't care.

The second time she woke up, she opened her eyes and looked around the room without feeling as if she were on a carousel. A picture of her falling from the limo and laying on the ground flashed in her mind. Horrified, the memories seeped back in to her fogged up brain.

"Oh, no" She moaned. How could she have been so stupid? She rarely drank and never to excess. She sat up and groggily noticed that she wore nothing but bra and panties. It was just like Adam to take advantage of her in a drunken state. The thought was too repulsive to even put in to words. She refused to even think it.

She stood up and looked around the room, spied her purse. She rummaged through it until she found what she was looking for. Aspirin. She poured four of them in her hand and went for water.

She quickly swallowed the aspirin with some water and splashed water on her face. She looked up and saw her reflection in the mirror. She needed more than cold water to face Adam. She jumped into the shower and turned it on full force, alternating between hot and cold. She toweled herself off and slipped on a pair of black stretchy pants and a big T-shirt from her luggage. She felt better but not much.

She didn't remember bringing in her luggage but it was sitting in the room near the bed. She didn't even remember bringing herself in. It must have been Adam even after she'd been so rude to him. She smiled. He had always been a nice guy. Then she frowned. That nice guy had broken her heart.

She dried her hair as best she could with another towel. She wondered if there was anyway she could sneak out of the house and slink off into the darkness never to be heard from again.

She was so embarrassed, no that was too mild of a word. Humiliated, disgraced, mortified were much better choices but still only scratched the surface. She didn't know how she could walk out there and face Adam but she had no choice.

She remembered the secretary's advice, have some attitude. That was what she needed, more attitude. She gave her head a fling, took a deep breath and walked out hoping she could find some of that attitude. She would need it to face Adam.

She opened the door and walked to a winding staircase. She looked down. Adam was on a love seat in front of a fireplace. He didn't notice her walking down the steps or, perhaps, he was just ignoring her. The room was dark except for a reading lamp that sat beside Adam. He was absorbed in reading a manuscript.

Her manuscript, no doubt. She wanted to cry. How could she have blown this opportunity? What had possessed her to get falling down drunk? She just didn't do things like that and now she'd done it when so much was riding on keeping a good relationship with Adam.

Adam's eyes left the manuscript and followed her down the steps. By the light of the fireplace, his eyes shone black. She knew what that meant. He was angry.

"Hi," She managed to say.

"Well, well. I guess you decided to join the living again." His snide voice grated on her nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. "Or should I say the sober."

She flung her head at him as if she didn't care and walked over to the fireplace where a fire was lit to take the chill off the April evening. Fingers of reds, oranges, and yellows danced against the dark walls creating a glow in the darkened room. She turned her back to Adam and warmed her hands.

After a moment, she turned back to him. He took off his reading glasses and just stared letting her squirm.

Attitude, she told herself. She gave a little shrug. "I'm sorry." She said being sure not to sound too apologetic. "I don't know what happened. I was writing on my laptop and drank a little wine but I guess I drank more than I realized."

"I guess so." He said dryly. He had no plans to help her out of this hole she'd dug for herself. Writing was a serious business. They had a lot of work to get done that week and he wanted her to know that if she had a drinking problem she would need to keep it under control while they were working

"What's that supposed to mean? I said I was sorry about what happened."

"I don't really care if you're sorry or not."

She was surprised at the bitterness she heard in his voice. She'd expected a little anger but not the intensity she heard in his voice. She ignored him and turned back to the fire. He wasn't going to make this easy but she deserved his anger. It was nothing compared the anger she felt for herself.

After a few moments, she turned back to him.

Attitude, she told herself. She gave a little shrug. "I said I was sorry." She said being careful not to sound too apologetic. "I feel totally ashamed but I can't change what I did. If you don't want to accept my apology, that is certainly your choice." As she put her hands on her hips, her damp hair fell in her face. She used one of her hands to push it off her face and then both hands were back on her hips.

He felt a tug at his heart, this was the spirited girl he remembered.

He kept his own voice neutral. "I just didn't realize you had a drinking problem."

"Don't be ridiculous. I do not have a drinking problem, Adam." She told herself to stop being defensive but it wasn't easy to do. He didn't know her and he had no right to make that kind of a judgement based on one incident.

His fingers tapped the manuscript that he still held on his lap. " I can't... no let me put it another way. I won't work with a drunk."

"I am not a drunk but you're just as much an idiot as you ever were."

Now, she was beginning to get under his skin. "Me, me the idiot. I'm not the one that..." He stopped and looked at her. He refused to be sucked into an alcoholic's convoluted argument ever again. He stood up and threw his hands up in surrender.

"You're right, I am the idiot, an idiot to be looking forward to working with you this week and looking forward to helping you with your book and looking forward to renewing an old friendship that got lost somewhere along the way."

She bit her lip trying to stop herself from reacting to his words but she lost the battle. She took a few steps toward him. "Old friendship that got lost along the way." She yelled. It hurt her head but she didn't care. "How sweet that you can arrange the past to suit the way you want it to be rather than the way it was."

He turned back to her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I am not one of your books that you can edit so you come out looking like the good guy."

He started to say something but abruptly stopped. Just like a drunk, he thought. When confronted, they would always manage to turn it around and put the other person on the defensive. Just like his ex-wife but he wasn't going to have any part of it

He stood up and walked to the foot of the steps. "There's food in the refrigerator. In the morning, I will call Benjamin to let him know this isn't working." Without even so much as a glance in her direction, he turned and walked up the steps. He called back to her. "But don't worry I won't tell him you're a drunk."

"I am not a drunk." She screamed but he only kept walking up the winding staircase. She stood with her back to the hot fire and watched him leave. "I am not an alcoholic, you arrogant idiot. I had a little bit too much drink. It's not like I killed anybody."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. He heard the phone ringing and the police saying there'd been an accident. He saw the tiny casket that belonged to his daughter as it was lowered in to the frozen January ground. A small moan escaped his lips.

He gasped for air but there wasn't any in the room. He doubled over but managed to sit on the step rather than fall down the steps. He began to hyperventilate.

"What's wrong, Adam?" Ramona rushed to his side. He shoved her aside. She touched his arm. "Adam, should I call a doctor? Are you having a heart attack?"

She started for the phone but he grabbed hold of her arm. "It's okay." He choked out.

Ramona stopped moving and looked at him questioningly.

"Water." He managed to choke out between gasps. She raced for the kitchen.

She handed him the glass and he took a small sip and forced himself to breathe slowly. This wasn't his first anxiety attack. His doctor was helping him to learn how to control them. After a few moments, his breathing returned to normal. He looked back at Ramona.

"I'm fine."

"I think we should go to the hospital. I think you are having a heart attack." Her cheeks were red and her own breathing was a bit ragged.

"I'm fine." He forced a grim smile to prove it. "It was just an anxiety attack."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I get them from time to time since..." He stopped. He had no desire to talk about the death of his beloved daughter at the hands of her drunken mother to another drunk.

"Since when?"

"Since I got my promotion." He shrugged. "No big deal."

She searched his brown eyes that looked amber in the warm glow of the fireplace. She may not have seen him for more than twenty years but she knew that he was lying. He seemed so sad but it was obvious that he didn't want to share it with her. It wasn't her place to poke in to his business.

"No big deal." She gave him a punch in the arm. "You almost gave me the heart attack."

"Sorry."

"It's okay as long as you really are okay."

He held up his finger with a boy scout oath. "I promise."

"Fine. Is this argument over or what?" She asked with a crooked grin.

It reminded him of the girl he'd once loved but he knew that girl was gone replaced by a drunk. "Yes, it's over." He spoke softly and kindly. No need to hurt her. "Perhaps, we should just call Benjamin up and tell him it's not going to work out. That you will be needing a new editor."

She blinked back tears. That was fine with her. She hadn't wanted to work with him anyway. Now, she wouldn't have to deal with Adam. That was what she'd wanted to begin with.

"Sure. I'm sure that will be for the best."

"Good night, Mona." He said it softly but she could still hear the sadness.

She went to the kitchen to search for something to eat. She sat at the counter forcing herself to eat a peanut butter sandwich even though she wasn't hungry. She needed some food in her stomach. She felt better after she'd eaten but was more confused than ever.

She tried to take her mind off Adam and the feelings he kept stirring up in her. She looked around the room. It was an old-fashioned looking kitchen but with every modern convenience known to man. Microwaves, food processors, and other assorted appliances were lined up on the butcher block counter tops. The one wall of the kitchen was encased in glass with a sliding door that led out to a deck

She cleaned up her mess from the peanut butter sandwiches. He wouldn't be able to call her slob and a drunk. Then, she walked over and slid open the sliding glass door that led out to the deck from the kitchen.

She shivered from the chill of the April night but the fresh air felt wonderful. She felt an ease up of her headache. The night sky was spectacular, not a cloud in sight. There were no city lights to dim its beauty. The stars twinkled against the black velvet sky. Each constellation set up on its own easel. The moonlight exposed a shimmering lake below the house. She leaned against the wooden rail wondering how she'd managed to mess up the day so spectacularly.

She wanted to cry. This wasn't the way it was supposed to have happened. It was to have been a perfect day. She wanted to blame Adam but she was adult enough to recognize that

she'd messed up the day herself. She had no one to blame but herself.

A part of her was very angry at Adam. How dare he accuse her of being a drunk? He didn't know anything about her or her life. He'd betrayed her years ago and never had the guts to even apologize for what he'd done. On the other hand, the other part of her could see that the assumption was understandable considering what had happened earlier in the day.

Either way it didn't matter. She wouldn't have to work with him now so it had all worked out for the best. She thought about Adam and that sad look in his eyes. Something was bothering him and she wanted to help him. No matter whether he thought she was a drunk or not.

She paced the length of the deck debating whether she should go up to his bedroom and try to have a civil discussion about the day and what was bothering him. In the end, she decided that it would be better leave things the way they were.

In the morning, she would get a new editor and could forget she'd ever seen Adam Miles again. She could put the turmoil aside that he'd stirred up inside her. She had a new life and she didn't need ghosts from her past popping up. She needed to focus on her new career, not the past.

The cold forced her back into the house but she wasn't sleepy. She paused in front of a door that probably was Adam's room. She could hear music coming from behind the door. It was a haunting melody. She was tempted to knock and apologize once again for the mess she'd made that day and be more sincere about it. Instead, she went to her own bedroom and plugged in her laptop.

She began typing.

It was an unseasonably hot day in May. I was sitting on the tire swing trying to cool off. My father still refused to take the silly swing down. I'd come to realize that the tire swing symbolized my own childhood and he was reluctant to see it end. But my childhood would end whether he wanted it to or not. I was growing up.

I would be finishing up my junior year of high school in just a few short weeks. Next year, I would graduate with the class of 1973. There was a raging debate in our house about whether I was going to college or not going to college. Screaming had become the norm at the dinner table on a fairly regular basis.

I didn't want to go to college and my parents were refusing to listen to my viewpoint. I tried to explain to them I didn't want to waste four more years in school. I wanted to get out in the world and begin my real life and I didn't need a college education to do that. They disagreed and very noisily disagreed. I had no idea who would win.

I saw Adam walking across his old yard and toward me and my tree. I shook my head and thought I was hallucinating from the heat. The Miles family had moved out of the house and the area two years ago after Susanna's death. There were just too many memories for Mrs. Miles to cope with. I hadn't seen Adam since the day they'd moved out almost three years ago.

"Hi, Mona."

"Hi, Adam. I thought I was seeing things." I dragged my feet across the dirt and twirled on the swing trying not to show how pleased I was to see him. I was long over the crush on him but I missed him and Susanna both.

"Nope, it's me. I walked through the yard to surprise you and here I am." He gave me that same sweet smile that I loved to see. His hair was still blonde but even longer than the last time I'd seen him. It touched his shoulders and he had a mustache as well. He looked so grown up. He stood there and put his hands in his pockets then took them out.

I wondered why he was nervous. "How was your first year of college?"

"I flunked out."

"You're kidding." I screeched. He was so smart, there was no way I could believe that.

He shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. "I guess I partied too much." He ran his hands through his long locks. "I got my draft notice."

"Oh, no. " Those were words that no one wanted to hear. Everyone was sick of the war and only the most ardent hawks still thought we should be in Viet Nam. "What are you going to do?"

"I signed up for the Air Force. They let you do that, you know. That way I can pick my job."

"Oh, Adam." It was the only thing I could think to say. "Your Mom and Dad must be really freaked out."

"Yeah, I don't know if they're more upset that I got kicked out of school or that I got drafted. You can take that worried look off your face. I'll be fine."

"Don't tell me what to do, Adam Miles." I used a nasty tone but he knew I was kidding and we both laughed.

"I'll be fine." He repeated it as if he were trying to make himself believe it.

"Of course, you will be. You'll be great." I stood up and gave him a punch in the arm. "Just stop that partying."

"Funny, that's exactly what my mom said."

We talked a few more minutes and then he went inside to say hello to my parents. I walked out on the front porch with him. He walked down two of the steps to leave but then turned back around. He leaned over and kissed my cheek. He handed me a piece of paper.

"This is my address. You can write me if you want to. No big deal." And then he turned and he did leave. Over the next two years, we wrote back and forth. Gradually our letters took on a more intimate nature.

I'd dated in high school but nothing serious. Once I went away to college, I became more sexual but refused to go all the way with them. I told myself there was no particular reason why I didn't, just that I wasn't ready to.

It was the mid-seventies and the sexual revolution was in full swing. No one actually believed you had to wait until marriage before having sex and I didn't believe it either but still I waited. I just didn't know what it was that I was waiting for.

Then, I received Adam's letter that said he would be coming home for leave in a few weeks and that he hoped we could see each other while he was home and he made it obvious that he meant dating not just friends.

Now, I knew what I'd been waiting for. It was time for me to lose my virginity and I wanted Adam to be the one, my first love. I wasn't one for taking chances so I went to the doctor and got a prescription for birth control pills. I didn't want any surprises. I wasn't under any illusions that Adam and I were in love or anything like that. I certainly didn't want to complicate his life or mine with a pregnancy.

We weren't in love but there was a strong bond between us. We shared a past. I thought I could trust him. I knew he cared about me and that he wouldn't hurt me.

Ramona stopped writing and looked at the words she'd written. How stupid and naive she'd been back then. She'd been so wrong about being able to trust Adam or any man, if truth be told. She'd believed that he wouldn't hurt her but she had been wrong. She closed her eyes and willed the memories to go away.

Her whole generation had been wrong. They'd thought you could separate sex from love. They had been wrong. It was easy to see that now as an adult and the mess that young people were in, thanks to her generation's attitudes about sex. She knew now that her religious training had been right. Sex was very special and should be saved for marriage.

She didn't want to think about it any more that night. She undressed and hoped she could get to sleep. Her body and soul were exhausted from all the emotions the day's events had stirred up. She fell asleep within seconds of putting her head on the pillow.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Adam opened his eyes but knew that he must still be asleep and dreaming. He hadn't smelled a breakfast like that in years. His ex-wife didn't believe in cooking and he refused to hire a cook even if she could afford it to pay for it.

He sniffed. He recognized the bacon and eggs but knew he was dreaming when he detected the aroma of his Mom's homemade biscuits. He sat up but could still smell the heavenly aroma. Penance, no doubt, for her drunken display of the day before. Classic behaviors of an alcoholic he thought bitterly.

He wasn't getting sucked into that cycle.

"Never again. " He muttered as he stomped off to the bathroom.

He'd had enough of that in his marriage and his acceptance of the behaviors had cost him the life of his daughter. He would never forgive himself for not keeping her safe and he would never again forgive a drunk for any misdeeds..

He took a deep sniff, on the other hand, he wasn't stupid and he hated the thought of wasting food that smelled that good. Her back was turned to him as he entered the kitchen. He leaned against the doorway watching her. Her curly red hair was hanging loose down her back.

He imagined running his hands through those endless curls. Then, he frowned and told himself to stop it. This was not the girl he'd know before. This was a grown woman with a drinking problem. He didn't even want to be friends with her so he needed to stop having romantic thoughts about her.

Still he smiled as he watched her move with ease around the kitchen as if she'd been using it forever. Her body swayed with the gracefulness of a dancer. She was wearing some clingy purple pants and an T-shirt from a Springsteen concert.

The years had only made her more beautiful, more desirable. Too bad, she was a drunk. She turned to face him. Her eyes were clear and bright, no sign of the hangover that she must be experiencing. She gave a squeal of surprise when she noticed him. "Oops, you startled me. I didn't hear you come in." She smiled cheerfully.

"Morning." He barked at her.

She ignored his tone and remained cheerful. She would act cheerful if it killed her. "Good morning, Adam. I hope you're feeling better this morning. You had me worried last night."

He knew what was coming next, the con job. She would tell him how sorry she was and if he would just give her one more chance, she'd prove that she didn't have a drinking problem. It didn't matter who the drunk was, it was always the same. He'd learned that in Alanon.

He'd heard tearful story after tearful story as he attended the meetings, desperate to somehow find the way to help his wife. It was always the same. The family was the victim of the selfish behavior of the drunk and yet it was always so hard to leave them. He'd finally done it but he'd still been under the mistaken belief that it wouldn't be good to cut her out of their daughter's life completely.

That had been a fatal mistake for his daughter.

He didn't return the smile. "What's all this?" He gestured to the stove.

"I'm an early riser. I figured it was the least I could do after the mess I made of yesterday. Sit down and eat while it's hot."

He took a deep breath and put his daughter out of his mind. It wasn't Mona's fault and he had no reason to blame her for it even if she were a drunk. He sat down while she put bowls of food on the table. Bacon, scrambled eggs, hash browns, pancakes and yes, even biscuits.

"Milk or juice?" She asked.

He was dishing food out on his plate. Without stopping what he was doing, he answered with a mouthful of bacon. "Both."

"You got it." She set them down beside him and went to where her own plate sat. He was surprised as she took a little of everything, though not nearly as much as him.

They ate in silence for several minutes. She finally looked up from plate. "I'm really sorry about yesterday. I don't even know what happened. I was writing in the limo and didn't notice how much I was drinking. I can't tell you how embarrassed and sorry I am."

She sounded so sincere and he wished he could believe her. Before he had a chance to say anything, she continued talking. "I don't blame you at all for not wanting to work with me. After yesterday, I wouldn't want to work with me either. No hard feelings." She held out her hand and her head was tilted as she did. Her soft blue eyes gazed at him. She even had her freckles back that morning. She was making this hard for him.

He took hold of her hand and shook, he was surprised at the tingle he felt when he touched her. "Sure, no hard feelings. " He said it gruffly, "I mean you can unders..."

"Oh, I understand perfectly, Adam. Don't worry about it."

He realized he was still holding her hand. He dropped it. He noticed her blue eyes were twinkling. They were clear and showed no signs of the hangover she should have.

"Why don't you have a hangover?"

She shrugged. "Probably has something to do with the fact that I haven't gotten that drunk in about..." She tapped her index finger to her head as she thought. "In about six years. I was drowning my sorrows about my husband and his latest bimbo and what they were probably out doing instead of him being home with me, his loving and dutiful wife. In my drunken stupor, I took some sleeping pills to help me sleep. I was lucky. That was one night he actually came home early. I was even luckier that he noticed something was wrong with me."

"Bad marriage, huh?"

"Very bad."

"So, what happened that night?" He told himself he was just curious not that he cared about Mona.

"He saw the pill bottle and the wine glass and decided that maybe I should go to the hospital so he called and ambulance. It was a very close call. When I left the hospital, I didn't go home. Best decision of my life."

"He sounds like a real prince."

She laughed. "No, I wouldn't say that at all but the truth is he only did what I let him do. I didn't have to stay and tolerate the behavior. I have no one to blame but myself. I'm just glad that he came home that night and found me." She shrugged. "I haven't had more than a glass of wine since that night, Adam. Not even to celebrate my divorce when it was final and believe me I needed a few drinks that night."

He looked in to her clear blue eyes that sparkled. He wanted to believe her.

"You really haven't gotten drunk in six years?"

She held up two fingers. "Really, truly. I swear on my honor as a Girl Scout."

"You were never a Girl Scout, Mona."

She laughed again. "Oops, you're right. I forgot that you would know that."

Something tugged at him. Against his better judgement, he almost believed her. He wanted to believe her. After all, this was Mona, not some stranger. "So, you don't have a drinking problem?"

She laughed with what could only be called a hearty laugh, making him feel foolish for asking the question.

"No but I can sure understand why you think so after yesterday." She turned and looked at him. "The truth is I'm deeply committed to my faith. Adam, it's okay, really. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. If we were strangers and I'd acted that way, you wouldn't even think twice about not working with me. It was totally unprofessional of me."

"But we're not strangers." His voice was soft and it sent shivers straight up her spine. She turned away not wanting him to see how that soft sexy voice affected her.

"Mona, look at me." It wasn't a request but she didn't want him to see the feelings reflected in her eyes. She put a few more things in the refrigerator giving herself time to gather herself. When she turned to him, her eyes were bright and clear.

"What?"

He spoke slowly, enunciating each word. "Tell me the truth, Mona. Do you have a drinking problem? This isn't about work, it's about friendship." He watched her intently looking for all the signs of evasion he knew so well.

She looked back her blue eyes meeting his dark eyes, wanting to get lost in them but she knew that time had come and gone many years before. The thought surprised her but she pushed it away. "Honestly, I don't have a drinking problem, Adam but thanks for being worried. It was just bad judgement on my part."

"I'll work with you either way. I just want to help you if you need it."

Instead of answering she turned and walked out of the room. She returned a few moments later and handed him some papers. She didn't say anything at first and when she saw that he was reading them, she very softly said. "This was what I was writing yesterday on the drive up. I guess that's why I didn't notice how much I was drinking."

She turned to the sink and began washing the dishes but she could hearing his breathing over the sound of running water. Suddenly, she felt his warm breath on her neck. Much to her consternation, she wanted to lean back against him, to feel his arms go around her to comfort her. She told herself to stop it. She wasn't a lovesick teenager any longer and she shouldn't acting like one.

"Why didn't you tell me this yesterday?" Each hot puff of air on her neck sent shivers through her. She managed to maneuver around and take a few steps back to put some distance between them. She had to lift her neck up to see his eyes.

"Because I felt like such a fool. Why do you think?" She stepped back another step giving herself breathing space. His body drew her to him like a magnet. She needed to stay out of his electromagnetic force field.

He thought for several long moments. His dark brown troubled eyes cleared up to the color of milk chocolate. "Let's just forget the whole thing and get down to work."

She frowned. This wasn't at all what she'd wanted to happen but there was no graceful way to get out of it now that he was willing to forgive her drunkenness of the day before. She owed him the same by forgetting about the pain he'd caused her decades ago. She gave an inward shrug. There was no reason why they couldn't work together as friends.

"What's wrong now?" He asked in exasperation as he registered the frown on her face.

"Nothing at all. Why do you ask?"

"The look on your face."

She shook her head and smiled. " I was just thinking about Susanna."

"Do you think her about her much?"

"Not so much any more and I try to stay focused on the happy memories." She said honestly. "But seeing you yesterday brought back the memories. I miss her so much. I miss the double dates we should have had, I miss being in her wedding and her being in mine. I miss our kids growing up together." She wiped at the tear that trickled down her cheek.

"I know." He said with a tired expression on his face. He touched the tear on her cheek. His therapist kept telling him that his choice of women who needed rescuing had to do with the fact that he kept trying to rescue his sister. He hadn't believe it before but now he could see that it made some sense.

He gave her a playful punch on her arm. "So, are we going to work together or not?"

"If you're sure? Don't feel you have to do this." She could do this, she told herself. It was ridiculous to be having such emotional reactions to this man. She didn't even know the man standing before her. She knew the child he'd been, just as he'd known her as a child. All those feelings and reactions belonged to another person in another lifetime.

CHAPTER NINE

"That's just the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" She screeched, her red hair flying in every direction as she shook her head. He turned away from her to hide the smile that lurked. She looked so cute but he was sure she wouldn't appreciate him saying so right at the moment.

"I don't think so at all and I don't believe that stupidest is even a word, Ms. Writer."

She gave her head a toss. "It must be since I used it."

She looked so adorable. Her red curls bouncing as she moved her head from side to side for emphasis. Her blue eyes blazing and her finger pointed at him trying to make him see her side of things as she paced around the living room. Her face was flushed with excitement making her freckles even more pronounced.

They'd been arguing for the past fifteen minutes. The raging debate was over not just a passage but a secondary story line that he wanted cut from the book.

"Mona, it's a good story line. You can always use it in another book but this book is too long and we have to cut some major portions out. This would be a good way to do it."

"I know." She moaned as she flopped down on the floor in front of the fireplace. She sat cross-legged with her head between her legs. "I know but I really like that story line."

All he could see was hair and legs and he couldn't help but appreciate both. He'd been wrong when he'd first seen her at the office. She hadn't really changed all that much. She was still passionate about the things she believed in and right now that happened to be an expendable story line.

"Can't you see my point here, Mona? That story line isn't connected to anything else in the story. It's not that it isn't a great story line. It just doesn't belong in this story."

She looked up and stuck her tongue out. "I know when I'm being patronized."

He chuckled. "Actually, it is a great story line." He spoke in an exaggerated tone. " I think it should be the basis of your next book."

"Fine, Adam." She made a gagging sound, then finished her sentence. "You're the boss."

"That's exactly what I love to hear." He smiled innocently at her. "Since you are in such an accommodating mood, I have another topic that I need to bring up."

She rolled her eyes but said nothing.

"You seem very attached to using Ramona Myers but I've got to tell you. I think Mona Meyers just sounds better. It's easier for people to remember."

"No, no, no." She jumped up. "I know it's just a romance but I want to be taken seriously. Do you think people would take Stevie King seriously or Johnny Kellerman or...or..." She stood up to pace warming up to her topic. "Or Bobby Lou Stevenson."

"Bobby Lou?"

"Aha! I got you. Robert Louis Stevenson." She stuck her finger at him to emphasize her point.

"That's just ridiculous and you know it."

She sat down beside him on the love seat. Ramona's stomach growled. She looked up in surprised and rubbed her stomach.

"I guess I'm hungry." She looked up at the clock on the fireplace mantle, surprised to discover that more than five hours had passed since breakfast. Adam set the manuscript down.

"Time for a break. Why don't you go take a walk to clear your head? I'll get something ready for lunch and then afterwards you can work on that change that you did agree to."

"I can help with lunch."

"No, you can't." He spoke in a firm tone. "First of all, you cooked breakfast and second of all, it may not feel like it now but this is hard work and you need to refresh yourself for the afternoon so you can do your rewrite."

"Fine with me." She headed for the door.

"Better put on a sweater, it's cooler out there than it looks."

She turned and gave him a crooked smile that melted his heart. "Don't tell me what to do, Adam Miles." But she did go back to her room and get the sweater.

CHAPTER TEN

Ramona walked out in to the bright April sunshine but realized Adam had been very right about the chill. It was so typical of April weather. Mother Nature couldn't decide if it was spring or winter. The trees had buds on them but thanks to the current cold spell more of them were on the ground than on the tree.

She walked along a stone pathway that winded back and forth but eventually went down the hill to the lake that she had noticed the night before from the deck. She walked down glad for the pathway since the hill was quite steep. At the bottom of the hill she turned and looked back toward the cottage.

There were other cottages scattered about the hillside. Most were built into the hillside using brown siding to camouflage them. She pulled her sweater tighter around her and continued to walk down the cobblestone path that led to the lake. The wind snapped at her face and her hair was going every which way. She did, indeed, have a slight headache but the fresh air was beginning to clear it away.

She watched as the sunshine danced its way across the rippling waters of the peanut-shaped lake. Ramona let out a sigh. This day was going much better than she had expected after the mess she'd made the first night and she had enjoyed working with Adam the past two days.

She decided the week would go fast enough as long as things kept going the way they were that morning. Putting the past behind her allowed her to enjoy Adam's company. She smiled. She had forgotten how much fun she use to have with him.

The wind picked up and she started back up the hill. Halfway up, she'd wished she hadn't gone to the lake. What had felt steep going down actually felt vertical going back up. She stopped at the midway point. She was winded. She vowed to get back to her running the next morning.

When she arrived back at the cottage, Adam was standing by the stove wearing a ruffled apron. He was holding a spatula and was frosting a cake. She giggled at the sight.

He gave an imaginary fluff of his hair. "What is so amusing?"

Another giggle. "You look just like your mother standing there."

"Well, there are worse people in the world to look like, young lady." He said in a perfect imitation of his mother's southern drawl.

"I suppose so, Mrs. Miles and I hate to admit it but you were right. I did need some fresh air. I feel much better now."

"And you did need that sweater, didn't you?" He asked with a knowing smirk.

"Does it really matter who's right or wrong in the big scheme of life?" She made an expansive motion with her hands.

"Yes, it does matter. Tell me." He demanded.

She arched her eyebrows. "Nope, not going to say it."

He advanced toward her holding the frosting-laden spatula as if it were a sword.. "Say it."

She squealed and took several steps back. "No, and you can't make me."

That was all he needed to hear. His slow advance suddenly turned into a leap and he was in front of her. She tried to run but his long legs got to her before she could take more than a few steps. He grabbed hold of her with both hands, holding the spatula only inches from her face.

"Tell me and I won't do it." He spoke in a sugary sweet voice and waved the spatula that dripped chocolate frosting.

"Are you sure? I don't know if you can be trusted. Do you promise?"

"I promise." He stopped waving the spatula.

"Fine." She pronounced in a truculent voice. "You were right. I needed the sweater."

Just as she finished saying the last word, he made his move. Quick as lightening, the spatula headed for her face. She tried to dodge it but it hit its mark, her nose then her cheeks..

"I lied."

He began to laugh. Ramona punched him in the stomach. "I will get you back for that Adam Miles. You are still the bully that you were when you were fourteen years old."

"And don't forget it." Without thinking, he leaned close to her and licked a spot of the frosting off her cheek. They both looked shocked by the action and both became intensely aware of their bodies pressed against each other. He let go of her instantly and she stepped back but still had a smile on her face. No reason to overreact to it, she told herself sternly. It was just two old friends having fun. It meant nothing..

"I'm going to go get cleaned up for lunch." She said with all the dignity of royalty. She heard him laughing as she walked up the winding staircase. Once in the room and away from Adam, she released the breath she'd been holding. She washed her face and traced the spot where his tongue had been. It still tingled.

That had been a mistake, just a mistake during a playful moment. She told herself and if she'd felt something akin to desire it was only a physical reaction. She didn't need or want a man in her life at this point in her life. Men were just a complication.

She'd given everything to her marriage and it hadn't been enough. She couldn't go through that again. She just needed to think of Adam as her old buddy not an old flame. She'd been with him all morning and it hadn't been a problem. She just need to take control of these fantasies and she would be able to make it through the week without making a fool of herself.

She was here to do a job. A job that meant everything to her. She wouldn't blow it by making more of the situation than it was. He was an old friend and now he was helping her book to be the best that it could be. That was all there was to it. He'd already broken her heart once and that was more than enough for her.

He managed to look contrite when she reentered the kitchen. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't resist." He held up the chocolate frosted cake. "But I did bake you your favorite. It's my mom's recipe."

"It is not."

"Is."

"MMMM." She licked her lips. "This was always my favorite." She eyed the cake wondering if she could start with desert.

"I know." He handed her the cake plate with a knife. There were two saucers and two glasses of milk already sitting on the table. "I called Mom and got it from her last week. She was so excited that we would be working together."

"Now?" She questioned as she eyed the cake.

"Of course, we'll have something healthy later."

They sat down. With great ceremony, she took a bite. She moaned with delight. He wondered if she knew how erotic she sounded. She seemed completely unaware of her effect on him.

She looked up from her plate and asked, "Now, I know you didn't have time to bake this while I was out walking. So, how did this happen?"

"I baked it the day you came up but didn't have time to frost it. Then, of course, when you arrived you were falling down drunk and I didn't think that would be the best time to give the cake to you."

"I wasn't falling down drunk." She protested.

"You fell flat on your face." He smiled evilly at her.

"I simply stumbled when I got out of the car." She took another bite then reached for the glass of milk.

"If you say so." He mumbled between mouthfuls.

"Well, maybe I was a little drunk but I thought you said you wouldn't mention it again."

"I know but its just too good." He gave her that charming smile. "And I can't wait until the pictures are developed."

Her mouth dropped open. You're kidding." She poked at him with the fork. "You better be kidding." He started laughing. "Yes, I'm kidding."

"Are you sure?" She looked at him doubtfully.

"I promise."

"That's what you said about the frosting."

"Was it?" He gave her a charming smile. "Oh, well, it's true this time. I'd forgotten just how gullible you are and how much fun it is to tease you."

"I am not gullible, I trust people. There's a difference." She finished the last of her cake and reached over with her fork and began to take little bites of his.

"Not much any more. I've found that if you trust people they will usually disappoint you sooner or later." He said ruefully. He pointed to the cake. "Would you like another piece?"

"No, yours will do just fine." She pulled his saucer over and ate his last bite. She looked back up at him. "When did you get so cynical about people, Adam?"

"When I grew up."

"When was that?" She asked softly. She watched as his brown eyes clouded over to the color of mud.

"It doesn't matter."

She wouldn't let him brush the topic away. "Yes, it does matter. At least to me, it does. Tell me the story of your life, Adam."

He chuckled. "It's so boring you would be asleep before I got to age thirty."

"Try me." She insisted.

He looked at her for a moment, seriously considering telling her about his marriage and his child but decided against it. There was no reason to depress her with the sad story, especially since they seemed to be having such fun.

"Another time, Mona. Why don't you finish telling me yours?"

"No way." She gave him a wicked smile. "But I will tell you this. When you least expect it, Adam Miles, I will get you back. I am not the patsy I once was."

"You have never been smart enough or fast enough to get one over on me." He challenged her.

"We shall see."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

After lunch, Ramona went up to her own room to work on the changes that they agreed on. She spent the afternoon hard at work on her laptop. She was pleased about the changes and though she would never tell Adam. She thought he was right about omitting the story line they'd argued over earlier and she really could use it as a basis of another story.

She hit the print button and laid on the bed to take a nap but her mind kept going back to the past. She sighed and opened her eyes, giving her laptop a hateful stare. She walked back to the desk and opened the file she'd named Adamstory. She read through what she'd already written and was surprised to see that it actually made sense considering she'd written it as she was getting looped. She read the last few sentences she'd written.

I thought I could trust him. I knew he cared about me and that he wouldn't hurt me. That's why I chose him to be the man to give my virginity to.

Boy, had she been wrong about that. She closed her eyes and let herself slip back in time remembering the feelings of the innocent eighteen year old girl that she'd been. She felt the pain of the heartbreak and the loss of her innocence.

Tears trickled down her nose. She took deep breaths but kept her eyes close feeling the anger and the sorrow. It was time to let go of the past. She wanted to erase that anger from her heart. She couldn't get rid of the feelings without experiencing the feelings. She'd never allowed herself to admit that Adam had hurt her. She'd just tossed the experience out and started dating every man that asked her out.

She thought of Adam, the twenty year old. She thought of Mona, the eighteen year old. She whispered the words that she'd needed to say for more than two decades. "I forgive you, Adam." More tears trickled and she said the words again. She sat quietly letting the emotions roll over her like ocean waves. After several minutes her breathing returned to normal. She smiled. She took a deep breath and began to type.

The timing was perfect. The doctor said the birth control pills would be effective by the time Adam got home. As the weekend approached, my excitement and my nervousness increased. I was excited about seeing Adam again after all this time and about the new aspect our re