Stacey Daniels knew it was ridiculous to be sitting on the couch bawling her eyes out. She should be thrilled to have some personal time for herself.

"I should be making an appointment for a pedicure, a manicure, and a haircut," she muttered.

She should be calling the hot UPS driver who delivered the pharmaceutical supplies to Bates' All Creatures Animal Hospital where she worked. He'd given her his card with his cell phone number on it after weeks of flirting. The accompanying wink had made the offer more than just a business one.

"I could be looking forward to a night of much-needed, no-strings-attached raunchy sex." She sniffled. "Hell, I could be having raunchy sex, right now."

Instead, she was a miserable lump, crying because her deadbeat ex-boyfriend had finally picked up their son for an overdue weekend visit. It was pitiful and slightly deranged, but she couldn't get over it.

Sinking deeper into her best friend's sofa, Stacey looked around the condo and was grateful to be house-sitting for her boss, Lyssa Bates. She didn't know how she would have managed being at her own home without Justin there. It would be too lonely. At least Lyssa had fish and a cat, though Jelly Bean was the meanest cat ever. A grumpy, hissing, tail-flicking beast who was presently sitting on the arm of the couch giving her the evil eye. Still, even his unpleasant company was better than being alone.

Of course, Stacey was realizing exactly how lonely she really was. At some point she'd stopped seeing herself as an individual woman and started herself only as "Justin's mom," which wasn't healthy, as her reaction this morning so aptly proved. She had no idea what to do with herself. How sad was that?

You have a right to be mad, the devil on her shoulder said.

She worked her ass off to make ends meet without a dime of child support and Tommy was the one who got take Justin skiing for his first time. Tommy got to be "cool." Tommy got the privilege of seeing Justin's face light up with joy and wonder. All because he'd had a twenty-dollar bill burning a hole in his pocket in Reno a year ago. A twenty he'd promptly put down as a bet that the Colts would go to the Super Bowl.