CHAPTER 8

Theresa McArthur turned the knobs on the shower and got in, the cold water shocking her skin and sending goose bumps all over her body.

She’d been stuck in meetings and forums all day for Dee Dee’s new product line for the salon, and she was exhausted.

When the water began to warm, she turned the dial all the way to cold, shivering under the freezing water. After several minutes, she got out and toweled off. She applied a thick creamy lotion all over her body, ignoring the huge scar on her left shoulder. She only thought about it when she was naked, so she threw her robe on and quickly left the bathroom.

It felt good to be in New York again. Being here made her wonder why she ever left.

Maxwell. He was why, and it was time to get him back again.

She sighed and threw herself over an armchair in the living room of her hotel suite. The room was great, no doubt about that. It looked out over downtown Manhattan, and the sparkling lights of the city twinkled beneath the moonlit sky. She itched to go out, but didn’t want to be alone; instead, she ordered dinner from room service.

She had been back at the salon for only a month, and already all the same old feelings for Maxwell were rushing back. She swore after what had happened between them that she’d never come back to Houston, but here she was accepting an offer of being assistant manager, working directly under Maxwell. Now with Sheila gone, she’d been asked to step in as creative director, a temporary position, she knew, but one she planned on filling well.

Being back in Houston also got her thinking about her past. She’d wanted to visit her father, let him know she was back in town, but she didn’t want to see Carol. She hoped she never saw her again. She touched her scar. Her breath quickened, and she willed herself to calm down; she was safe. I’m safe now, I’m safe now. She repeated the affirmation until her heart slowed down and she was breathing like a normal person again.