The Promise of Provence (Love in Provence Book 1) Read Free Page A

Pride, anger, hurt prevailed.
    First she decided she needed to call a locksmith, one who would be there that day. Next, a lawyer. She recalled a card she had in her drawer. A friend of Molly’s needed a divorce lawyer a while ago, and James had suggested this one, who it turned out was away until Monday. Katherine wondered whether hiring her was really a good idea but couldn’t think of anyone else. Then again, with a touch of irony she thought, the woman was highly recommended.
    She lay back in bed for half an hour, numb, and then threw on some workout clothes before halfheartedly running a comb through her shoulder-length blond hair.
    In the kitchen, a wave of nausea washed over her again—partly from the hangover but more so from the gut-wrenching anguish that hit her as she stared at the roses on the island and the note on the floor. Feeling faint, she picked the biggest glass from the cupboard. Pressing the crushed-ice button on the fridge door, she half filled the glass and then topped it up with water.
    She drained it in a few gulps. The cold began to clear her head and, with deep breaths, she felt some balance returning. Pouring a refill, she jumped as the doorbell rang.
    Moving about his work very efficiently, the locksmith took just over an hour to replace three locks and show Katherine how to reset the combination for the garage.
    Turning her new front door lock, she watched him drive off, then without a thought, climbed the stairs to the bedroom, fell into bed, and pulled the covers over her head. Tomorrow would be here all too soon.

    Around noon the next day, Katherine dragged herself out from under the duvet and lay staring at the ceiling. Still in her workout clothes, she had slept fitfully for almost twenty-four hours, alternately quietly crying during her wakeful times or simply feeling drained.
    She knew she wanted to get up but couldn’t think of a good reason why. What’s the point? she asked as she slowly sat up.
    Picking up the phone, she heard the insistent beeping that indicated messages were waiting.
    She called the office first, confirming she was still not well.
    Her mom needed to know she was okay. That would be her next call after she listened to the messages.
    Her cousin Andrea, who was also her very dear and only truly close friend, had left a message. “Hey there, lovebirds! Hope you had a beautiful anniversary evening at the Old Mill. Don’t forget we’re expecting you for lunch on Sunday. Are you bringing your bikes? We thought we might drag you over to a neighbor’s pumpkin patch so you can help pick out the perfect ones to carve for Halloween.”
    She swallowed hard, fighting that stabbing pain again. She would have to respond.
    The final message was from her next oldest and only other friend, Molly (the Moaner, as James had dubbed her, and not without reason), apologizing for forgetting their anniversary, and sending belated good wishes.
    “Oh God,” Kat groaned, realizing she was soon going to have to find words to tell those closest to her what had happened.
    Briefly she again considered talking to James. It felt instinctive, like the right thing to do. She shook that thought off. The finality of his words in that damn note cut through, and she knew there was no going back.
    Taking a deep breath, she counted to ten to slow her heart rate. Then she forced some normalcy into her voice and phoned her mother.
    “Hi, Anyu.”
    “Katica, how are you now?”
    “I’m feeling much better today, but I’m not going to work. I thought I might pop over later this afternoon.”
    “Of course, come for tea. Come whenever. If James is working late, stay for dinner.”
    “I’ll come around four and we’ll have tea.”
    Swinging her feet gently to the floor, she pushed herself up, stretched long and hard, and headed for the shower.

    Before Katherine got into her car, she took a quick inventory in the garage. She couldn’t believe James hadn’t taken his prized possession with him: