“He’s a football star,” Jenny reminded her, feeling defeated. She wished she’d remembered that important fact last night. “He’s a celebrity, and the world is his oyster. I bet he does this kind of thing all the time.”

“But not with you.”

“He has now.”

Emily gestured with a spread palm. “But, you’re not… You know.”

“I am now.”

Emily thwacked her head against the seatback. “This is ridiculous.”

“I’m over it.”

“You are not.”

“I am. I have no choice. What you told me last night was spot-on. And I promised myself if this didn’t work out, I’d date other men. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Pining away over Mitch Hayward has gotten me exactly nowhere in the past, and it will get me exactly nowhere in the future. I refuse to do something so illogical.”

Emily sat up straighter, eyes narrowing, forehead creasing. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.” Jenny had never been more serious in her life.

Emily smacked the dashboard. “Then let’s get going.”

“Where?”

“Take Bainbridge to Payton for Harper’s Boutique. You’re going to need a new wardrobe.”

Three

After an excruciatingly long day at work, followed by a grueling physiotherapy session for his injured shoulder, Mitch pulled his Corvette in front of the garage of his rented, split-level house. The pain in his shoulder was bad enough, but then there were some of Jenny’s words that he couldn’t seem to get out of his mind.

“We slipped up,” she’d said. “Hey, it happens.” As if it was the kind of thing that had happened to her in the past. As if anything like their lovemaking had ever happened to him.

Sure, he’d dated his share of women. He was on the road, in the public eye, invited to parties and publicity events where supermodels wanted to hobnob with athletes.