Page 8 of Malibu Heat


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It didn’t hurt that her family lived across the country.

He’d hit lotto.

When they boarded the plane for their Hawaiian honeymoon, Stella was floating.

When they moved into their Malibu home, she was still floating.

When she wanted to decorate their new house, John put her on a tight budget.

She considered it a challenge, and still she floated.

John started coming home late—or not at all.

She floated a little less.

Then came the long business trips.

Her feet began to hit the ground.

Just as her father had been, John was the boss.

Sighing heavily and pulling the covers back up to her chin, she wondered if there was any hope of happiness in her future.










TIA AND JERRY

TIA PRODDED THE SLEEPINGman beside her. He groaned, turned over, and laid still. She prodded again.

“Scott!”

The body moved, and a pair of bloodshot eyes squinted up at her.

“What time is it?” he grunted. “I think I drank too much last night.”

“Almost seven. You’ve got to get up and get out of here before Vera arrives.”

“Christ. Who cares about the damn maid?”

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