weight. I count every calorie. I think it’s worth it, don’t you, Brad?”
Brad’s gaze wandered over Heather’s magnificent figure. “Sure, sweetheart.”
Heather beamed.
A waiter passed by with a dessert tray, and Sam resisted an urge to seize a slice of strawberry torte and stuff it down Heather’s throat. Instead she told herself that Heather probably hadn’t meant to imply that Sam was old and fat. Forcing herself to smile politely, she asked, “So, how did you two meet?”
“At the RiversWare Run,” Brad said. “Heather loves to run and enters competitions whenever she can.”
Heather sipped her drink. “Do you run, Samantha?”
“Not if I can avoid it.” Sam tried to remember exactly when the RiversWare Run had been. About four months ago, she was pretty sure. That wasn’t very long.
“Running doesn’t appeal to everyone,” Heather said in a kindly manner. “I like to try something different once in a while, too. Like in-line skating. I started just a few weeks ago. Brad says I’m a real fast learner.”
“Heather’s amazing on skates,” Brad interjected. “I’ve never seen anyone as graceful as she is.”
Heather smiled modestly. “In-line skating’s very easy. Even the biggest klutz imaginable can do it.”
“Sam can’t,” Brad announced cheerfully.
Sam’s fingernails curled into her napkin.
Heather’s eyes widened. “You can’t?”
Sam could barely stay upright on skates and usually wouldn’t have minded admitting it. But something about the blonde’s incredulous blue eyes made Sam say, “Of course I can.” She looked past Heather to the approaching waiter. “Oh, here comes our food.”
Brad wasn’t diverted, however. Releasing Heather’s hand so the waiter could put their plates down, he stared at Sam. “Since when? That time I took you skating, you almost fell on your face.”
“That was a long time ago. I’ve improved,” Sam lied. She remembered the time he referred to very well. It had been a high school fund-raiser, and she’d been falling all over the place until Brad came to her rescue. He’d helped her up and held her upright—until someone brushed by them, knocking her off balance. Legs and arms sprawling, they’d both ended up on the floor. Tangled together, they’d started laughing uncontrollably. By the end of the evening, they’d both had more bruises than two boxers—not to mention a bad case of the hiccups.
“Unfortunately, I can’t go skating very often,” Sam added as she cut a bite of chicken and swished it in mango-chili sauce. “Helping at Jeanette’s shop takes up all my time.”
“I work, too,” Heather said. “But I still find time to exercise.”
“Keeping fit is very important in Heather’s business,” Brad explained. “She’s an actress.”
Heather preened. “I just had a part in a special TV movie called Baywatch—the California Reunion.”
“Oh, really?” Sam had never watched the show, but she knew it was something about lifeguards at the beach. “That must have been exciting.”
“Yes, it was. David Hasselhoff himself rescued me when a great white shark attacked the swimmers in the middle of an earthquake right after a deranged yoga instructor blew up the pier. I didn’t have any speaking lines, but I did have to scream very loudly. Jim, the director, is editing the final cut of the movie right now, so I’m on call. That’s why I’m staying at the hotel across the street, because it’s close to the location shoot.”
“You’re not staying with Brad?”
“My house is too inconvenient,” Brad said.
Sam, chewing on a bite of risotto with pine nuts and green chilies, was surprised but strangely relieved. The thought of him living with Heather was very distasteful. The thought of him sleeping with her…
The rice and pine nuts in her stomach oscillated.
Forcing herself to keep her tone pleasant, Sam asked Heather, “When will the movie be on TV?”
“Not for several months,” Heather said. “But my agent says the offers will pour in once it airs. Not that I’ll accept any of them, of course.”
“Why not?” Sam asked.
“Because I’m marrying Brad. I want nothing more than to be his wife, to love him and support him with every fiber of my being. And, if God is willing, I will bear his children, the precious fruit of our deep and eternal love for each other.”
Sam smiled, thinking the blonde was joking. But her smile faded when she saw Brad wasn’t laughing. He was gazing tenderly at his fiance´e, who gazed back worshipfully.
Sam gagged on her mango-chili sauce.
Her cough broke the spell. “Are you all right?” Heather asked.
“Mmm.” She coughed once more to clear her throat and to prevent any resumption of adoring gazing. “Brad said you wanted me to design your dress.”
“Oh, yes,” Heather said. “It would mean so much to Brad and me. Do you think you can do it?”
“Of course,” Sam said automatically. “You must come to my sister’s shop tomorrow and we can look through the catalogs.”
Heather tapped a French-manicured nail against her chin. “Well…I hope you don’t mind…but I would really like something unique. Something that suits my personality.”
Something with lots of frills and lace. And maybe a big lollipop. The bitchy thought popped into Sam’s head before she could prevent it.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Heather said, laying down her fork. “I promised to call my agent about a possible part playing a housewife in a commercial. He thinks I would be perfect for it.” Her eyelashes fluttered in response to Brad’s warm look. “I’ll be back in a minute, darling.”
She rose and glided gracefully away.
Sam watched her go, wondering how on earth the girl got her hips to sway like that.
She peeked at Brad to see his reaction. To her surprise, he was looking straight at her, paying no attention to Heather’s hips. A crooked smile quirked the corner of his mouth.
“So, what do you think?” His gaze was strangely intent as he asked the question.
“She’s…” Sam paused, several unkind remarks hovering on her tongue. She took a deep breath. “She’s perfect,” she admitted. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy, Brad.”
Brad leaned back against his seat, his face expressionless for a long moment. Then he smiled. “She’s amazing, isn’t she? I couldn’t believe my luck when she said yes to my proposal.” He stirred some cream into his coffee. “What about you, Sam? Are you seeing anyone?”
“No,
