The smell of cooking drifted into her room. She wandered out of the bedroom and found her best friend Kirsten in the kitchen, stirring a pot of congee.
Molly leaned against the doorframe, smiling. "Well, hello there, little fairy godmother."
"Your Highness." Kirsten curtsied dramatically. "Ready to wash up and eat?"
Molly was starving. She freshened up quickly and sat down at the table, eating while she talked. "Weren't you supposed to be in South District for that shoot?"
"Your mother-in-law was worried about you. Asked me to come keep an eye on you." Kirsten set a bowl of congee in front of her. "So... you and Miles. It's really happening?"
"Yeah."
"Six years of waiting, and this is how it ends?" Kirsten's voice rose with indignation. "If it weren't for you back then, Miles would be dead."
Molly watched her friend work herself up again. "I'm tired. Honestly, seeing how committed he is to Sibyl... I found it kind of moving."
"Moving? What about you? You were so young when you—can you really just walk away?"
Molly's lashes trembled. "The only one I can't walk away from is his mother."
That made Kirsten laugh despite herself. "Maybe the divorce is for the best. Harbor City's full of men better than Miles. Come out with me tonight—I'll find you a few."
"Deal." Molly didn't hesitate. "But they have to be good-looking."
She'd barely finished speaking when her phone rang. Mrs. Vance, asking her to come to the old estate for dinner and discuss how to divide the assets.
Molly picked up some pastries Mrs. Vance liked on the way over.
In the living room, both of Miles's parents were waiting, along with a lawyer.
"Molly dear, go drag that idiot son of mine down here," Mrs. Vance said.
Molly climbed the stairs and knocked on Miles's door. She waited. No answer.
She stepped inside. The room was empty. She was heading toward the study when a sound behind her made her turn.
Miles had just walked out of the bathroom—
Water still dripping from his body, his usually immaculate hair falling damp across his forehead. Droplets traced a path down from his hairline, sliding over his shoulders, trailing along the defined lines of his chest and abdomen before disappearing beneath the towel wrapped low around his hips...
Molly had always known he had a good body—the kind that looked lean in clothes but revealed solid muscle underneath.
Especially that waist. So narrow.