life? Deliciously, she thought how exciting it would be to celebrate her 39 th birthday on the French Riviera rather than in Boston. Her birthday was just two months away in May. Could she make this move happen in time? Or would she celebrate the swan song year of her thirties in an apartment she hated and at a job that made the word hate seem mild? At that moment, Belinda didn’t know how she was going to make it happen, but she knew she would. She had to. This May, she would blow out the candles on her birthday cake on a picnic blanket next to the Mediterranean Sea…
“Are you still there? Belinda?” Crystal queried, wondering if she had been too pushy.
“I’m here, Crystal. I was just thinking,” she replied in a daze.
“You were thinking---AND?” Crystal demanded impatiently.
“And you’re absolutely right. I’m going to do this. I’m going to move to Monaco and open a chocolate shop.”
Crystal’s scream of delight pierced Belinda’s ear drum from across the conti nents. Despite her ringing ear, Belinda smiled, feeling strongly in her heart that she was making the right decision.
“I can’t believe this! Oh, I’m so happy! Jean-Jacques and I will be there for you to make every detail picture perfect , I promise! Just go quit that heinous job and buy your plane ticket!”
“ Yes, I have to get a plane ticket. And there’s also the matter of going to the consulate and obtaining a visa…and I’m going to have to break the lease on my apartment…and put most of my stuff in storage or just donate it…and…” Belinda trailed off, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.
Perceiving her sister’s signature apprehension, Crystal assured, “Yes, those details will all be taken care of. When something’s meant to be, things have a way of taking care of themselves. And I really feel this is meant to be.”
“So do I, ” Belinda replied huskily, believing the words with every morsel of faith she possessed.
*****
A volatile Nor’easter struck during the night, dumping more than a foot of snow on New England. Crankily, Belinda trudged in her snow boots to clean off her car the next morning. Jerry, inconsiderate as ever, hadn’t called for a delayed opening, and she would have to hustle to make it to work in time. Grabbing a shovel and digging out the crippling snow that had buried her car’s tires, she fantasized about how she would break the news to Jerry later that morning. Each swipe she took with the brush at her windshield made her wickedly wish she were hitting Jerry’s hot head. After half an hour of breathless exertion, Belinda finally dug her car out of the snow. Sopping wet from head to toe, she turned the heat up to full blast in the car, now fantasizing about balmy days and nights on the French Riviera.
Chapter Two
“Where’s my coffee?” Jerry tapped a pen on his desk impatiently as Belinda eyed him with detachment. “I asked for a blonde roast with sugar substitute.”
Belinda was floored. Had the creep really expected her to make a coffee run in the aftermath of a colossal snowstorm? Then, it dawned on her: he was still capitalizing on the fact that her employee review was pending. Jerry generally didn’t ask her to fetch his morning java, but with her annual review creeping up, he had begun making all sorts of demeaning requests. The previous week Belinda had picked up the rat’s dry cleaning, delivered lunch to his office, and battled with the broke-down copy machine to make duplicates of his mortgage refinancing documents. This Monday morning, she was not inclined to do anything for the man. No, she would not do anything for him, but she would certainly tell him a mouthful…
He stared at her with patronizing gray eyes from across his enormous oak desk, not having the slightest clue that his power over her was about to come to an abrupt end. Biting on his pen, he ground out like coffee beans, “I’m starting