Claire de Lune (Claire de Lune #1)

“Meeting with a potential client. She’ll be back later this afternoon. And you’re right. I am tense. I didn’t sleep very well last night.” Lisbeth walked around Claire and put her tea mug in the sink. “Maybe I’ll go do some breathing exercises and see if I can control myself a little better.” She gave Claire a forced smile. “See you in a half hour, okay? We’ll leave after that?”


“Sure.” Claire snagged the remote and pointed it at the TV, wondering how Matthew was doing. If Lisbeth was this stressed about the situation, Dr. Engle must have gone freaking nuclear. “Have fun breathing and stuff.”

Claire sat at one of the little tables in the coffee shop’s front window, sipping a mocha and waiting for Emily. The shop was mostly empty. Claire closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window, enjoying the quiet. The little bell above the door chimed, and Claire opened her eyes, expecting to see Emily.

Instead, Victoria walked in. She looked over at Claire, recognition and then caution flashing across her face in quick succession.

“Um, hey,” Claire said carefully.

“Hey. Nice to see you, Claire. It’s been a while.” Victoria smiled, but her voice was guarded. She nodded at the counter. “Do you come here often?”

“Sort of. Yeah. I’m meeting a friend.” Claire squirmed in her seat. It was like running into one of her teachers, or something. She didn’t know what to say—everything she knew about Victoria was a secret. Claire couldn’t exactly ask her for fur-grooming tips in the middle of a public place.

Victoria nodded. “Well, I’d better get going. Tell your mother I said hello.”

The door opened and Emily came flying into the coffee shop, her car keys in one hand and her phone in the other.

Claire waved Emily over, then looked back up at Victoria. “I’ll tell her.”

Victoria shot her a tiny smile and headed for the counter.

Emily flopped into the chair across from Claire. “Who’s that?” She kept her voice low, but Claire knew Victoria could hear them.

“Someone my mom knows.” Claire shrugged. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Victoria glance over and give her a lightning-quick nod of approval. “So—what’s going on? Your message this morning was … odd.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t exactly free to talk. My mother’s been closer to me than my own damn shadow ever since they decided.”

The word made Claire’s mouth go dry. “Decided”?

“It’s over, Claire. My parents are taking me to my aunt’s house tomorrow. I thought I’d convinced them to let me stay, but after what happened to that Dave McKinney guy, they totally panicked.”

Claire leaned back in her seat, tension knotting her shoulders. “Wow. I … wow. Do you think you can calm them down again?”

Emily let out a bitter, choked-sounding little laugh. “No chance. They both had that look on their face when they told me—the one that means they don’t care if they are wrong, they’re doing this anyway.”

“Yeah, I know that look.” Claire sighed. “So, what are you going to do?”

Victoria headed past them, a paper coffee cup in each hand. She winked at Claire over the top of Emily’s head. Distracted, Claire twitched her fingers in a tiny wave.

“I guess I’m going to pack.” Emily sniffed. “Will you come help me?”

“Of course.” Claire pushed away her drink—she felt too awful about Emily leaving to finish it. And even worse than that was the fact that deep down, she was a little relieved. It’ll be so much easier to hide things from Emily if she’s hundreds of miles away. It made Claire sick that she was thinking things like that … even if it was true.

She ran a hand through her hair and forced herself to focus on Emily’s resigned-looking face.

“So, when are we packing? I need to call Lisbeth and tell her.”

“Now, if you can.” Emily looked over at the counter. “I’d better go get a cup of civilized coffee while I still can.”

Claire picked up her phone and dialed Lisbeth.

Emily held up a sequined tank top and stared at it regretfully. “I can’t imagine I’d have a single reason to wear this on the farm. You’d look great in it. Wanna borrow it while I’m gone?”

“Sure,” Claire said, putting down the magazine she’d been paging through. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m sure Matthew will love it.”

Claire rolled her eyes and Emily wadded up the shirt and threw it at her.

“What?” Claire smiled. “I just think sequins might be sort of … scratchy as far as Matthew is concerned.”

“Oooooooh.” Emily’s eyes lit up. “Are you telling me you’ve done more than just kiss him?”

Claire felt herself blush. She’d never really had a boyfriend before, and though she’d always been willing to listen to Emily’s play-by-play of her make-out sessions, she really didn’t feel like telling Emily everything about her and Matthew.

“It’s not—uh …” Claire paused.

“Oh, come on. We tell each other everything, right?”