started drinking after the sun set.
DWAI. That didn’t make sense for the woman he’d known. Then again, he hadn’t known Karan in a long time. He had heard she’d gotten divorced again, which was probably why she was back in Bluestone Mountain. Maybe the divorce had driven her to drink.
Had she cared that much for husband number two?
Charles couldn’t reconcile that with the woman he’d known. Karan didn’t care about anyone but herself. She used men then jettisoned them. Charles had come home from the hospital one day to find a key in an envelope and a storage facility filled with everything he owned. Jack Sloan hadn’t fared much better—only he’d been smart enough not to marry her, so he hadn’t had to retain an attorney and sign papers.
But DWAI? Was it possible, by some miracle, Karan had actually cared for husband number two?
The way she hadn’t cared for him.
“So how does this work in your field, Rhonda?” He did not want to be thinking about Karan, feelings he didn’t know he still had being dredged up without permission. So what if she cared for her second husband? “Do we have conflict of interest?”
With any luck they could get out of this whole alternative sentence thing. Let Jack handle Karan and her grief instead of dumping the problem onto New Hope. Charles had done his time. He’d earned a break from Karan and her drama. For the rest of his life.
“I don’t see conflict, but there’s only one ethical thing to do.” Depressing a button on the intercom, Rhonda said, “Lori, you can show my appointment in now.”
“Damn it.” He couldn’t get away without running into Karan in the outer office.
Rhonda shrugged. “Nothing left to do but deal with her.”
Deal with Karan…wasn’t he supposed to be fishing?
CHAPTER THREE
KARAN FLIPPED PAGE AFTER PAGE of the celebrity magazine, trying to interest herself in the current state of high-profile marriages and who had or hadn’t been invited to the latest A-list playgroup outing. But she couldn’t seem to get past the fact that she was inside the childhood home of the woman who’d managed to get Jack down the aisle.
Frankie Cesarini. Ugh. The very thought of her was enough to make Karan twitch. Fortunately, they’d had only limited contact since Frankie had come back to town.
Of course, Karan could have gotten Jack down the aisle years ago, if she’d wanted to be a cop’s wife. No, thank you. Still, to her knowledge, Jack hadn’t even come close to marriage in all the years since Karan had dumped him. The man obviously had never gotten over losing her. Who could blame him? They’d been so good together. With her by his side, he could have been running for senate himself by now.
What admittedly surprised her was who had finally gotten a ring on his finger—a woman who’d once been the antithesis of everything Karan considered relevant. No family. No money. No friends. No chic whatsoever.
Nowadays Susanna worked for Jack’s new wife and swore the woman resembled nothing of the girl who’d once been nothing more than bad hair and a smart mouth. Karan had trouble believing that and would have dismissed the possibility as nonsense from any other source. But she couldn’t dismiss the reality of this house. Or the fact that she was inside it and would be for another three hundred and fifty-nine hours and forty-six minutes.
From what she understood, the entire structure had been extensively renovated, which meant she couldn’t blame the generic furnishings on Jack’s new wife. The outside wasn’t bad. The house itself was a three-story Victorian with lots of windows and gingerbread trim. Fresh paint, new windows and proper landscaping had only brought out the character. Karan did wonder if there had been conflict involved with the hamlet of Bluestone Mountain purchasing the police chief’s wife’s childhood home.
Wouldn’t surprise her in the least. Also wouldn’t surprise her to learn there hadn’t been a cop in town willing to drag the police chief before a judge. As if that would have done any good with a judge like Wannabe Jenny. She, like the rest of the girls at Ashokan High, had thought the sun rose and set on the former football star.
How could Karan have forgotten how much she hated this town?
A door cracked open and a woman close to her age appeared. “Dr. Camden will see you now if you’ll follow me.”
Only fifteen minutes late. Any other doctor and Karan would have waited closer to an hour, so no complaints here. She cautioned herself to start finding reasons to smile through this nightmare, no matter how small. Guaranteed there would be precious few in the weeks ahead.
Tossing the magazine onto a table, she started her trek into hell bravely, glancing at the woman’s name badge.
“You’re a volunteer,” she said. “Is your job greeting the visitors?” Playing hostess for the duration of her sentence might not be too terrible. She could deal with people.
The woman smiled. “That among other things. Switch board detail and lots of administrative duties for the counselors.”
“I see.” Karan wasn’t interested.
They entered a smaller reception area and the woman went straight to the door marked Director, tapped lightly and pushed it open. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Karan smiled. Then, taking a deep breath, she moved past the woman and into the office, ready to deal with this situation head-on.
The sooner she started the sooner she’d finish.
Karan noticed the blonde woman standing behind the desk, but it was the man in front of the desk who stopped her cold.
“Charles?”
He looked the way he always did. So handsome that the very sight of him startled her. There was just something about his chiseled features, the way his dark eyes contrasted with his lighter hair. Not blond, but not quite brown, either. A sandy in between. His closely trimmed beard and mustache only emphasized the maleness of his face.
His expression was the same, too. So arrogant that she crashed right back to reality.
Dr. Disdain, she’d once called him. At least that had been his attitude toward her.
“Karan.” He didn’t even have the grace to utter any social niceties. No “Pleased to see you.” No “You look well.”
Of course not. The man stood there looking as if he was above everyone and everything and wished he was anywhere in the world rather than facing her.
Karan’s feelings might have been hurt had she not been so surprised to see him. And had she cared what he thought about her. She didn’t.
Of course, she wasn’t rude. “I’m surprised to see you. What are you doing here?”
“I’m Dr. Camden, Karan. Please call me Rhonda.” The blonde behind the desk extended her hand. “Turns out we have an unexpected situation.”
She shook the doctor’s hand. Rhonda wasn’t a natural blonde like Karan herself, but Karan did approve of the highlighting job. Skillfully done to
