“Maybe he won’t come back.” Kimberly, her closest friend since law school, emerged from the cabin and sauntered over to Angelique, orange and yellow leaves crunching under her steps. “I still can’t understand why you didn’t give that demon dog to Gabe the Douchebag.”
Clad in leopard tights, Kimberly stood next to Angelique. Kimberly pulled her hot-pink mohair cardigan tighter, folding both arms across her well-endowed bust. A petite gal with spiked bleached-blonde hair, her excessive bust line didn’t exactly match her five-feet-two-inch frame, and when she wore a fitted shirt . . . well, armed and dangerous was the only way to describe her. Really, many a man had never been the same after seeing her in spandex workout clothes.
“Sarge isn’t a demon dog. He’s just a little spoiled,” Angelique said, as they both stared at the empty footbridge, Sarge long gone.
And who could blame her for that, really? He was the closest to a child she’d ever have, now that she planned to keep her body to herself and focus solely on a career.
She looked at the stuffed octopus and tossed it up, catching it again. “No way was I leaving Sergeant Schnitzel with her. Gabriel gave him to me right before I was diagnosed.” Angelique’s hand went to her chest and rested there. “That two-faced . . .”
Angelique caught herself. Gabriel and his new squeeze weren’t worth the energy it would take to stay angry. She drew in a deep breath, and the fresh mountain air filled her lungs and steadied her emotions. “She got everything else that was supposed to be mine—my fiancé, his baby in her womb, even the dream house he and I were building together.” Angelique’s fingers fisted around the fabric at her neck. She tucked the toy into the other robe pocket. “The dog is mine.”
“Not much of a prize, if you ask me.”
“It’s the principle of the matter,” Angelique said, adjusting the flaps of her robe. She cinched the belt tighter and retied it.
“Would’ve been a nice wedding gift. Sergeant Schnitzel could be chewing up the Cheerleader’s undies right now instead of yours.”
Since Gabriel’s new soon-to-be-wife was seven years younger than Angelique and perky from her twenty-four-year-old boobs all the way to her petite size five-and-a-half shoe, Kimberly had officially dubbed her the Cheerleader. Gabriel couldn’t have cheated with someone more different than Angelique if he’d tried. The Cheerleader was blonde, had hazel eyes, and was sweet. Or so she’d pretended to be. A sharp contrast to Angelique’s dark Sicilian features and barracuda personality.
Rolling one foot onto its side, Angelique looked down at her size nines.
“Well, I think he should be skewered and roasted over an open fire,” Kimberly announced. The small diamond in her nose glinted against the afternoon sun as she ran splayed fingers through her spiky hair.
“It’s not that big a deal. I just need to keep my lingerie put away where Sarge can’t get to it.”
“I meant Gabriel.”
Angelique threw her head back and laughed. “That’s why I keep you around.”
“Because I make you laugh?”
“No, because you’ll help me dispose of a body should the need ever arise.”
It was Kimberly’s turn to laugh. “What else are friends for? Just let me know, and I’ll bring the shovels.”
“Maybe I should go after him.” Angelique sighed, her gaze returning to the footbridge.
“Maybe you should relax and let him find his own way back home. You came to Red River to work on an easy case and do some more recuperating in the process.”
“Real estate development cases aren’t my field of expertise, but it’s pretty open-and-shut. The firm was doing me a favor. It’ll be like a three-month paid vacation while Gabriel’s wedding and honeymoon hype blows over.”
“After what you’ve been through, you deserve it.”
Right. The emotional scars of losing both breasts ran deeper than she’d ever expected.
Thank God she didn’t have to go through chemo, too. Losing her hair would’ve added insult to injury and probably pushed her over the edge. Reconstruction had been an even bigger horror. If she’d known how painful it was going to be, she’d never have done it. But she’d been scared to wake up without breasts. Terrified, in fact. And the thought of intimacy with Gabriel if she wasn’t a whole woman nearly had sent her plunging over an emotional cliff.
“Speaking of, I need to get busy and study the case file.” Angelique walked to her pearl-white SUV and opened the door to get her briefcase and a stack of correspondence from the firm.