Chasing Shadows (First Wives #3)(4)

A tiny twinge of pain hit the bridge of her nose. A barometer of sorts since it had been brutally broken. The weather was shifting. She didn’t need an overtanned meteorologist to tell her that.

She closed her eyes and recalled the bar as it had gone silent. Although she’d had a rush that had filled her ears with a roar, the bar had gone quiet.

Then he stood there.

He was as tall as he was broad. Amusement swam in his piercing eyes.

Her body responded to the stranger in the split second they held eye contact.

He wasn’t her type.

Too big.

Too hard.

Much too difficult to take down.

So why was she thinking about the stranger now?

The muscles deep inside her started to wave frantically. Oh, yeah . . . she was thinking about the well-cut stranger because it was the first time her body had heated in nearly a year.

She let the image of him fade. “Guess it’s good to know I’m not dead inside,” she said to herself.

Her phone buzzed in her purse.

A reminder she’d set for herself.

Go To BED! Appointment in the morning. 8 AM.

With a heavy sigh, Avery pushed away from her car and opened the door.

Adulting really did have its drawbacks.



“We can’t have the First Wives meeting next month. I’ll be swamped with last-minute wedding preparations. The bachelorette party doesn’t count, cuz that’s all about me,” Trina whined on the phone. “And we missed last quarter for Lori and Reed’s wedding.”

Avery tapped the pen she was holding against her open calendar. “It isn’t like we don’t all see each other, with everyone getting married every five minutes.” At least that’s what it felt like with two out of the four women in the club tying the knot within the same season. It was ironic, considering the basis of their club hinged on the fact they were all previously married and either divorced or, in Trina’s case, widowed.

“Oh, wait a minute. What are you doing next Thursday?” Trina asked.

Avery glanced at her schedule. “Nothing. I fly out Friday to Seattle to meet a client.”

“Perfect. I know Lori is in town. We just need to catch Shannon.”

“You’re coming to LA?”

“Yeah, Wade and I need to sign the prenup.”

Avery leaned back in her chair. “How does Wade feel about that?”

“He insisted. And it’s just smart. Not that there is any question that I’m not marrying him for his money or vice versa. It’s just too much money to leave in question should something happen to one of us.”

“Sounds like you’re drawing up a will instead of an agreement before you get married.”

“We plan on doing that once we’re back. Life was easier when I didn’t need to check so many boxes on my tax form.”

Avery rolled her eyes. “You’re marrying Mr. Country Western Superstar whose last single was number one for how many weeks?”

Trina laughed. “A few.”

“More like six, but who’s counting . . . and you’re so loaded, presidents call you to see which way you’re voting, and would you mind holding a fundraiser?”

“That was a governor, not the president.”

“Splitting hairs and you know it.”

Trina’s laughter grew. “God, I miss talking with you all the time.”

Yeah, Avery missed her friend, too. But since she became the other half of Wade Thomas, Trina was a little more preoccupied than when she was single. “It’s okay. The newness will wear off and I’ll be here.”

“God, I hope not. The sex is so good.”

“Now you’re just bragging.”

“It’s nice to have something to brag about. Seems like the only one who knew they had a functioning vagina was you.”

Avery looked at her dormant lap. “Glad we all have something to talk about, then,” she lied.

“Oh, is Shannon finally dating?”

“I don’t think pigs have learned to fly.” Avery leaned forward and circled Thursday. “I’ll call Shannon when I hang up with you.”

“Perfect.” Trina sighed. “Can you believe I’m getting married in a month?”

“I hope so, since I have a maid of honor dress hanging in my closet.”

“I’m so excited.”

And for the next thirty minutes, Trina relived every exciting moment so Avery could catch up.



The silence between the occasional noise of a fork touching a plate, or glass clinking against a table, was the only thing Avery could focus on.

Adeline sat across from her, perfectly alert, back straight, shoulders squared . . . fake smile in place. The proper English tea was her mom’s idea of a good time. They’d been meeting every other week for six months. Somehow, a friend joining them made enduring the two-and-a-half-, sometimes three-hour purgatory better. Today it was Margaret. Not Maggie, not Mags . . . Margaret. The stick up her ass was nearly as large as the one up Avery’s mom’s. Two women who lived in the same galaxy of one-upping the other would make most people squirm. Avery was simply happy the focus was off of her.

At least it had worked in the past.

“It’s been positively forever since I’ve seen you, Avery.”