After a restless night, Chris took extra care with her makeup, applying a slash of eyeliner and a coating of black mascara. She pulled on a brilliant yellow sweatshirt over a black unitard, then stepped into a pair of calf-high soft black leather boots and looked at herself sternly in the oval mirror over her bureau. “Good heavens,” she complained, “I look like a bumblebee.”

“Chris,” Edna called sharply from the foot of the stairs. “You’re ten minutes behind schedule. Get a move on, or you’ll be late.”

Ten minutes late is fine with me, Chris thought as she ambled down the stairs. I can grab a cup of coffee and skip the egg and my chances of running into Kenneth Knight will be enormously lessened. She stopped short at the sight of the man standing in her dining room. Nothing in the past three weeks had prepared her for Ken Callahan Knight in a suit. His lustrous black hair had been cut and perfectly coiffed. Blue-black eyes dominated a clean-shaven face that was set in calm determination. He wore a custom-tailored, European-cut suit that accented his trim waist and narrow hips. The cast had been removed from his arm, compounding the feeling that this was not Ken Callahan at all.

His eyes raked her from head to toe. “That outfit is sexy as hell, but you remind me of a bumblebee.”

“Oh sh-” Chris saw Aunt Edna turn from the stove and look at her sidewise.

“Shelled peas!” Chris ground out.

“You’re gonna be late,” Edna told her. She handed Chris a plateful of egg and a cup of coffee.

“She can eat it in the car.” Ken steered Chris to the front door. He slung her skate bag over his shoulder and held the egg while she shrugged into her jacket. “I have to catch an early flight to New York,” he said, shoving her out the door. “I’ll drop you off on the way.”

Chris slid self-consciously into the plush interior of the Mercedes. Please, she prayed to herself, don’t spill any egg.

The engine purred to life. Chris watched, fascinated, as Ken eased the powerful car into traffic. She had never noticed before how beautiful his hands were. Perfectly manicured nails and long tapered fingers that were adept at driving expensive cars and wielding the reigns of corporate power. “What happened to the cast?”

“I had it removed. It was a little early, but if I’m careful it should be okay.” He stopped for a traffic light and motioned to the glove compartment. “Open the glove compartment and take out the envelope.”

Chris turned the manila envelope over in her hand. A set of keys fell out.

“I’m going to be gone all week. I’m leaving this car at the airport, and that leaves you with no transportation.”

“Bitsy will-”

“Bitsy is very nice and a good friend, but there’s no reason to impose on her. Our deal was that I rent a room from you, and you get to use my truck. I’m trading the truck in for a more practical car. My caretaker said he’d have the car brought out to you this afternoon.”

“The truck was fine.”

“It was a pain in the…bananas. I tried to take Edna shopping once and thought I was going to need a forklift to get her into the front seat. And it doesn’t hold a week’s worth of groceries. You have to put them in the back, and they roll around.”

But it was our truck! she wanted to shout. Dammit, that truck belonged to Ken Callahan. She glared at the man sitting next to her as if he were a murderer.

“Good Lord,” Ken whistled, “why are you wearing your Lizzie Borden look?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

He pulled off Reynolds Road into the rink parking lot and parked the car. He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. “Are you sentimental about the truck?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hmmmm.” He dabbed gently at her eye. “Then how about telling me what this great big tear is all about.”

Chris sniffed. “It’s about nothing. My eyes always water when I don’t have time for coffee in the morning.”

“And your voice gets husky.”

“That’s right.”

Ken smiled and kissed her. The kiss was soft and warm. It said hello, good-bye, and I love you. He sighed and looked at the slim gold watch on his wrist. “I’m sorry, but if I don’t hurry I’ll miss my flight.”

Chris grabbed her bag from the back and bolted from the car. “Have a nice trip,” she called crankily. She pushed through the glass doors and when she was sure she was alone in the vestibule she kicked the trash receptacle, sending it sprawling into the lobby. She stood horrified for a moment before picking the can up and returning it to its proper place.

“The wind,” she explained to no one in particular. From across the room Bitsy rolled her eyes. “Yes,” she told Bitsy on her way to the coaches’ lounge. “He’s still living in my house.”

Edna picked at the Sunday pot roast. “Hmmph,” she said, “it just isn’t the same without Ken. I don’t even feel like eating.”

Lucy mushed her mashed potatoes into a pancake and made a road through it. “Yeah. No one tells me monster stories anymore. Boy, he knew some really scary stories, Mommy.”

Chris stabbed another slice of beef and slapped it onto her plate. “Well, his absence doesn’t affect my appetite. Honestly! The man was only here for three weeks. It isn’t as if he were a relative or an old friend.” She forked a piece of meat into her mouth and was unable to swallow. All her fears were coming true. When Lucy’s father had walked out, the heartache had been a living, all-consuming pain. Chris had gotten through it and grown stronger because of it, but she didn’t want to subject her daughter, or even her aunt, to the misery of having a loved one wrenched away. And this man showed all the earmarks of future grief. He’d been Ken Knight for only two days and already he was off on a week-long business trip.

Chris chewed her meat carefully and made another attempt to swallow. They’d all been so happy without him. Why did this have to happen? All because of her crummy car. She hated cars. And she especially hated the brand-new silver four-door Mercedes sedan that was sitting sedately in front of her house. He must have a whole fleet of them, she thought. A different color for each day of the week.

“I don’t know what you’re so cranky about,” Edna declared, shaking her napkin for emphasis. “Here you have a good man who loves you and wants to do nice things for you, and you don’t even want to admit you miss him. Ken Callahan What’s-his-name is the best thing that ever happened to you.”

Chris flipped her hand into the air. “You see? You can’t even remember his right name.”

“Who cares. It’s only a silly name. The man’s a hunk. He’s loaded with money. And he’s real nice. I don’t care if his name is Dumbo.”

Lucy giggled. “Dumbo. Can you imagine somebody named Dumbo. They’d have to have real big ears.”

Edna looked at Lucy. “Talk about somebody having big ears.”

“I think it’s time to change the subject.”

Lucy pushed a pea along the road in her mashed potatoes. “Vroom vroom vroom.”

“Is that a car going through a mountain pass?” Chris asked.

“Yup. It’s going to Boston to go to Easterns.”

Edna beamed. “Isn’t that cute?”

Lucy pushed her mouth into a pout. “Wish I could go to Easterns.”

“So do I, pumpkin, but I’ll be too busy to be any fun. And I don’t think you can afford to miss much more school.”

“Will Patti win?”

“She won’t win, but she might come in third or fourth. That would be good enough to send her to Nationals.”

“When’s her long program?” Edna wanted to know. “I gotta admit, I’d like to see her skate, too.”

“Her long program is on Saturday. I’ll bring back a video for you.” Chris gathered the plates and carried them to the kitchen. Edna followed her. “Aunt Edna,” Chris told her quietly, “when I get back from Boston, I don’t want to find Ken here. If we haven’t got the money to return to him, then give him a promissory note. Take out a short-term loan from the bank. I don’t care how you do it. I want him out of this house.”