Fool Me Once (First Wives #1)

Lori slipped into a midcalf-length sundress and jeweled sandals. The sun had given her face more color than she normally had, so makeup consisted of mascara and lip gloss. Strange how living in Southern California didn’t add a glow to her face, yet less than three days on the Mediterranean had.

She glanced at the time when someone knocked on her door.

“You’re early,” she called out.

“It’s Trina.”

Lori hustled to the door to let her in.

“You look nice,” Trina said, closing the door behind her.

“It’s just dinner.” And she was more nervous than she cared to admit.

“If my opinion is wanted, I think Reed is a decent guy.”

“We’ve known him less than forty-eight hours.”

“And I’m sure there is a lot to know, but if this is a weeklong affair, what does it matter?”

Lori had been asking herself that question since she met the man. “You’re right.” She shook her head. “I’m overthinking this.”

“I’m glad you said that. It isn’t like you just buried your husband, or just divorced your husband . . . or had it bad for your ex-husband. You should be the first one from the First Wives Club that should be having a fling.”

Hearing Trina paint the truth in black and white cleared up her resolve. She’d go to dinner, see if any warning bells rang. Lori sat on the edge of her bed. “How are you holding up?”

A slow smile inched across Trina’s lips. “I forgot about Fedor for over an hour today.”

“Let me guess: somewhere between the lap dance and oiling Miguel?”

“Or the other way around.” Her smile fell. “I feel guilty.”

Lori reached out and grasped both of Trina’s hands, encouraged her to sit next to her on the bed. “Stop it. You have no reason to feel guilty. Fedor did this to himself. We may never know why he did what he did, but it was his choice.”

“He was my husband.”

“No. He was a contract. He may have been given the title of husband, but he wasn’t.”

“The world won’t think that.”

Lori leaned down until Trina met her eyes. “Which is why we’re miles away from his life and the details of his death. Find the strength it took for you to take the plunge into his world, and use it to catapult out of it.”

“I’m trying.”

“Good. Now do me a favor. Every time you think about Fedor as your husband, take that word out of your thoughts and put in business partner. You don’t owe your business partner who killed himself anything.”

Trina slapped her palms on her thighs and stood. “You’re right. He shouldn’t have done this to me. We had become friends, and friends don’t exit without an explanation.”

“He shouldn’t have!” Lori agreed.

Now that Trina was moving out of the denial stage of her grief, it was time for her to get mad. With any luck, this trip would help her move through the five stages quickly. The sooner she accepted Fedor’s death and the murky waters he left behind, the better.

A knock on the door brought Lori back to reality.

Trina kissed Lori’s cheek. “Go have fun. Shannon and I are going to check out the ice bar.”

“Brrr, that sounds cold.”

“If you need a cold shower later, join us,” Trina said.

Lori laughed as she opened her stateroom door.

Reed wore slacks and a button-up short sleeve shirt. His hair was wet, as if he’d just jumped from the shower. He’d shaved.

“Hi.”

His eyes swept her. “You look nice.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, three is a crowd.” Trina pushed past Reed. “You kids have fun. Don’t keep her out too late, we have an early morning,” she teased.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Trina giggled and scooted past him and into the hall.

Lori studied her feet, feeling a little bit like she had when she’d dated in high school and her dates had to meet her parents before taking her anywhere.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Let me grab my purse.”

“Do you know anything about French food?” Reed asked as they left the room.

“I know enough to avoid escargot.”

When his hand found the small of her back, her cheeks warmed. Crazy how a simple touch declared that she was with him . . . if only for a meal.

They worked their way through the halls and decks of the ship, which were a mix of everything from people still in bathing suits to others dressed to the nines.

The low lighting and music of the French themed restaurant certainly paved the way for romance. Couples filled most of the tables, whereas families spent most of their time in louder locations on the ship.

“Do you cruise often?” Lori asked him once they were seated.

“This is my second,” he told her. “What about you?”

“I’ve done my fair share.”

“With your friends?”

She shook her head, thinking of Trina and the others. “Not with . . .” she stopped herself. “With other friends.” She’d taken a one-on-one cruise with a previous Alliance bride in the past. This was the first time she had a group of four.

“Other friends who might have strangers taking pictures of them?”

The waiter saved her from having to answer his question. They ordered a bottle of wine and listened to the chef’s recommendations.

“Tell me about yourself,” Lori changed the subject.

He lifted one questioning eyebrow but didn’t bring up her travel companions again.

“What do you want to know?”

Everything . . . but then, if she started asking about what he did for a living, he’d ask her. “Tell me more about this philosophy of yours.”

“Which one?”

“Living life beyond your comfort zone.”

He leaned back. “That’s easy. As kids, we learned to take risks every day. Jumping into a lake without a life preserver and learning to swim because of it. Do you remember your first roller coaster?”

“Not really.”

“Do you remember being afraid to go on one?”

“Yeah. I still get that way.”

He lifted his hands in the air. “But you still go on them.”

“They’re fun.”

“The thrill comes from fear.”

“Like watching six grand ride on the color red.”

“Exactly.”

The waiter returned with the wine and took their order.

“Sometime between the age of eighteen and thirty we forget to take risks, and the fun in life is lost on us,” Reed told her.

“You’ve been skydiving, haven’t you?” Lori asked.

“More than once. You should try it sometime.”

“I’ll stick to the inside of airplanes, thank you.”

“Chicken.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “What is this, junior high?”

“Maybe. What are you afraid of?”

Lori lifted her wineglass. “Oh, I don’t know . . . hitting the ground at two hundred miles per hour.”

“It’s only about a hundred and twenty.”

“That sounds so much better.”

Reed had an addictive smile. “What’s the most adventurous thing you’ve ever done?”

Lori blinked . . . twice. “I traveled to China by myself.”