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“What about it?” Juliet asked. Her fingers started toying with the cloth napkin in her lap. Not paper this time, so there wouldn’t be any impromptu jewelry, but that didn’t stop her from worrying the fabric. “It’s coming out next month.”
“I know. I saw an advanced reader’s copy bouncing around my magazine’s offices.”
Juliet’s gaze dashed around the table. “No one mentioned… I wasn’t completely certain any of you knew…”
Cassandra smiled. “Those cursed tubes of the Internet. Nobody has privacy anymore.”
Nikki’s voice was soft. “We’re very sorry for your loss.”
Across the table from Noah, Gabe shifted in his chair. “Uh, fill me in?”
“Oh.” Cassandra squirmed in hers. “I guess I didn’t tell you.”
“I guess not. Tell me what?”
“Well, uh…” Cassandra looked to Nikki in mute appeal, and then gave a little shrug. “Juliet’s husband died about a year ago, and, um…”
An awkward silence descended over the table. Cassandra tried again. “And, um, it must have been an especially tough time for Juliet because…” She glanced at her newfound sister and then back at Gabe, obviously uncomfortable with the subject matter. “Uh, because the press got involved and, they, um…”
Juliet jumped to her feet, bumping the table to set the cups rattling against their saucers. “They called me the Happy Widow,” she said, her voice tight.
Cassandra reached across the table. “Juliet—”
“And before that,” she told Gabe, ignoring the other woman, “the press called me the Deal Breaker. So you can take your pick. Or use both. I really couldn’t care less.”
Noah stared at her in surprise, noting the bright color in her cheeks and the telltale tension in her posture. Until this moment, she’d kept her feelings about those nasty nicknames buried beneath what must have been a blanket of snow. Now, however, she was experiencing a major melt-down. He rose, a wary eye on her. “Juliet…”
She ignored him, too. “Excuse me,” she said to the table at large as she grabbed a half-empty wine bottle by the neck. “And I’m sorry,” she added as she rushed for the kitchen.
Noah got to her first. “Whoa, whoa.” Under his hands, her shoulders were stiff. “You don’t have to apologize to anyone. Not for anything.”
Her fingers white-knuckled the wine bottle. “Not even to my—these two women who I’m sure are less than thrilled to find themselves related to an infamous widow?”
He squeezed her shoulders. “Juliet…”
“Face it, Noah. It’s ugly. Ugly and infuriating. I didn’t deserve it. Wayne deserved better.”
Now Cassandra rose. “Nothing about you is ugly. We don’t think anything like that.”
On the other side of the table, Nikki glared at Jay. “Look at what you’ve done. This is all your fault.”
“Hey—”
“If you hadn’t decided to bring up the book—”
“Hey—”
“Would someone please explain to me what’s going on?” Gabe asked again.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Cassandra shot Jay her own hostile look. “Ask Big Mouth over there.”
He appeared wounded. “You’re usually on my side, Cassandra.”
“You’re usually not so oafish.”
“Would someone please explain—”
“Fine.” Jay looked over at Gabe. “Juliet’s husband? He was General Wayne Weston.”
“Ah. Aaah.” The dark-haired man nodded, as if understanding was dawning.
“That’s right,” Jay nodded back. “You remember now. They called her the Deal Breaker when they married.”
Flames shot from Nikki’s two-toned eyes. “Did you have to say that stupid name again, Jay?”
“It’s not her fault, of course,” the man continued. “Though that Happy Widow claim was even worse.”
Nikki and Cassandra griped together. “Jay!”
“Jeesh.” He held up both hands. “It’s not my fault either. I’m just laying out the facts. You girls are so touchy.”
The two women met each other’s gazes. “He called us girls,” Nikki said.
Cassandra waved her on with a sweep of her hand. “You’re engaged to him, so I’ll let you kill him.”
Jay leaned away from the table as his fiancée grabbed up a stray fork.
“Good God,” Gabe muttered. “I think I’d rather be spending the evening with Cassandra’s cats.”
