All the Way Read Free Page A

late.
    He was too late.
    Miranda removed his hand and pushed against his chest. He stepped back, and she moved around him. Silence blanketed the long hallway. Finally, she straightened her shoulders and spoke, her voice devoid of emotion.
    “Good-bye, Gavin.”
    She turned and walked away.
    About time he stared at a woman’s back and dealt with dismissal. His overwhelming arrogance stole her breath and her sanity, turning her into the tired, stereotypical representation of a woman scorned. With each stride to her table, her wrath rose and stripped away all of the surface layers she’d worked so hard to re-build.
    He probably believed a good explanation would make everything he’d done forgivable. Gavin always gained things too easily, whether it be women, sex, or love. How would it feel to have him finally experience real loss? Messy emotion?
    The sweet ache to get even pulsed in her gut. Too bad there wasn’t a way to teach him a well-earned lesson in humility.
    Miranda dragged in a breath and settled her composure. She refused to let the man ruin her evening. He’d ruined enough of her days to last a lifetime.
    She left the restaurant and didn’t look back.

Chapter Two
    The woman on stage moved toward the center. She flung her arms outward in a symbol of surrender, acceptance, power. Her voice, delicate as a spider’s web, skimmed over the room. She invited her audience to share her journey, to open their hearts and souls for this brief moment in time; to share the pain and pleasure of life. And, suddenly, the voice grew larger, booming and echoing off the walls as she challenged the Gods to one final battle. The music became her defender, swelling with majestic force, and the audience held their breath as they hoped. They knew the ending, and yet, a tiny voice whispered in their ears to wait. Perhaps, this time, love will conquer all. Even death.
    The last note of her aria rang through the air as she fought her fate. For one instant, Miranda believed the woman had won. Then she collapsed as the curtain crashed to the floor.
    Miranda sucked in a ragged breath. The thunderous applause of the audience comforted her as she brushed away the stray tear and remained seated in the darkness. Years ago, she vowed never to cry over life’s events, but allowed herself this one luxury. Weeping at the opera was entirely acceptable.
    “Are you okay?”
    She turned toward Andy with a smile. “I’m fine. I hope you weren’t too bored.”
    Her friend gathered his cashmere coat as the lights went up. “It was fine,” he responded gruffly.
    She wiggled herself into the sleeves of her lime green raincoat. “No matter how many times I see La Traviata , I always hope the ending will be different. Didn’t you think—” she stopped short when she caught the telltale dampness on her friend’s cheek. “Andy, you were crying.”
    He gave a disgusted snort and turned his back. “Don’t be ridiculous. Real men don’t cry.”
    She laughed and trotted behind as they left the Metropolitan Opera house. The chandeliers dripped with opulence and shimmered over the crowd as they fought their way down the elaborate staircase. The dark wine carpeting cushioned her step.
    “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” she sang. “You loved it and you were crying. Admit the truth, or I’ll tell Elaine you sobbed and caused a scene.”
    “The pasta sauce went to your brain,” he said.
    Miranda made a face as the icy blast of New York City air hit her full force.
    He pulled his lapels up around his neck. “Anyway, stop distracting me. You never told me what your boyfriend wanted to talk to you about.”
    “Ex-boyfriend.” She cinched the belt tighter as they headed toward the parking garage.
    “He looked like he wants to rekindle the romance. What’s the deal?”
    They ignored the flashing Don’t Walk sign and cut in front of a hurtling taxicab. The driver beeped and stuck up a middle finger, but she shrugged it off. She knew deep down the