The Edge of Eternity. Amanda Stevens

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      “I’m fine,” Elizabeth assured her. She even managed to muster up a smile. “I just need some fresh air. I’ll be back in a little while.”

      Frankie nodded. “I’ll see you back at the shop. Lizzy…” She reached out and put her hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “It really is going to be okay, you know.”

      “I know.”

      But it wasn’t okay. No matter how many times Elizabeth tried to tell herself otherwise, her life was never going to be okay again. Her son was dead and her husband was seeing another woman.

      As she stared at the restaurant, a breeze from the water drifted through her hair, lifting it as though an invisible hand caressed it.

      Shivering uncontrollably, Elizabeth turned and walked away.

      Chapter Two

      She’d been waiting in the coffee shop across from Paul’s building for nearly half an hour when she finally spotted his silver Lexus pull into the attached parking garage.

      Giving him a few more minutes, Elizabeth finished her coffee, then tossed the disposable cup in the trash can as she left the shop and crossed the street to the office building. When she got off the elevator on the thirty-second floor, the receptionist greeted her warmly.

      “Elizabeth! I was just thinking the other day how long it’s been since I’ve seen you. How are you?”

      “I’m fine, Angie, thanks. And you?”

      “Can’t complain,” the older woman said with a smile.

      “How’s your mother?” Elizabeth asked. “The last time we spoke, she was going in for surgery. A problem with her back, wasn’t it?”

      “Oh, goodness me, that was ages ago. How nice of you to remember. Mother’s doing well for someone her age. She’s eighty-six, you know. She’ll probably outlive me, the rate she’s going. I’ll be sure and tell her you asked about her.”

      “Yes, please give her my best.” Elizabeth paused. “Is my— Is Paul in?”

      “I just saw him come back from lunch a few minutes ago. Do you want me to ring him?”

      “I’d rather just go on back, if that’s okay.”

      “Oh, sure.” Angie waved toward the corridor to the right of her desk. “You know the way.”

      Elizabeth rounded the corner to Paul’s office, then stopped dead. The redhead from the restaurant sat behind the desk outside Paul’s door. She was on the phone, and when Elizabeth first saw her, she wanted to turn and walk quickly away. But the woman glanced up just then and her smile disappeared. She recognized Elizabeth. It was there in her eyes, but for some reason she pretended not to.

      “Yes? May I help you?” she asked briskly.

      “I’d like to see Mr. Blackstone.”

      She reached for the phone. “Your name?”

      “Elizabeth Blackstone.”

      “Oh, Mrs. Blackstone…I didn’t know it was you.” The woman stared at Elizabeth in a way that was completely unnerving. A mixture of curiosity, disdain and…pity. Or perhaps that was only her imagination, Elizabeth decided.

      “No reason you should. I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”

      The woman stood and offered Elizabeth her hand. “I’m Nina Wilson. Paul’s—Mr. Blackstone’s assistant.”

      Elizabeth reluctantly took her hand, wondering what had happened to Paul’s last assistant, Ariel. She’d been young and attractive, too, but happily married, with two kids. This woman’s left hand was bare, and judging by her trim, shapely figure, Elizabeth seriously doubted that she’d had children. At least, not recently.

      “Is my husband in?” Why hadn’t she just called him Paul? Elizabeth wondered. Was she still trying to stake her claim? If so, how pathetic was that?

      “I’ll buzz him and tell him you’re here.” Another emotion glimmered in the woman’s eyes, one Elizabeth couldn’t define this time.

      “No, don’t bother,” Elizabeth said with a cool smile. “I’ll just pop in for a moment.”

      She could feel the woman’s gaze on her as she walked away and she knew that if she turned, Nina Wilson would be staring at her.

      Elizabeth knocked, then waited for Paul to say, “Come in,” before she opened the door and stepped inside. He was standing at the wall of windows, looking out at the mountains. Hands shoved in his pockets, he appeared to be a million miles away.

      “Did Carter ever call back?” he asked absently.

      Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I guess you were expecting someone else.”

      At the sound of her voice he spun, a look of astonishment flashing across his handsome features.

      It wasn’t fair, Elizabeth thought fleetingly. It wasn’t fair that after everything they’d been through, after all the grief and hurt and bitterness of the past eighteen months, he still had the power to take her breath away.

      “Elizabeth! What are you…what brings you by here?”

      He chose his words carefully around her, Elizabeth noticed. They’d both been walking on eggshells for so long, she wondered if either of them even knew how to relax anymore.

      Coming over to stand behind his desk, his gray eyes raked her curiously. And no wonder. She hadn’t been in his office in over a year. Not since before the accident.

      “I was out walking, taking advantage of the beautiful weather, and I found myself near your building,” she tried to say in a normal voice. But what was normal these days? “I decided to drop by and see if you have dinner plans.” Oh, God. She hadn’t meant it to sound that way, as if she were asking him out.

      He lifted a brow as he regarded her across the expanse of the desk. For the longest moment he said nothing, and Elizabeth rushed to explain, “There’s…something I need to talk to you about.”

      “I see.” His gaze flickered, but she didn’t have a clue what he was thinking. He seemed so remote, so cold. Nothing at all like the man who had barely let her out of bed on their honeymoon.

      She didn’t want to remember their honeymoon now, though. Or the night they’d made Damon. Not with Nina Wilson sitting right outside Paul’s door.

      “Shall I pick up something on my way home?” he finally asked.

      “No, I’ll cook.” It would give her something to do for the rest of the afternoon.

      “Are you sure?”

      She hadn’t cooked in months, but Elizabeth found herself looking forward to the prospect. “I’ll enjoy puttering around the kitchen again.”

      “In that case, what time?”

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