It All Began in Monte Carlo by Elizabeth Adler Page A

Europeans do, an ‘arrangement.’ He travels a lot, but there are many things, when he is here, that we like to do together. Special things,” she added with a reminiscent little smile. “But then, there are also many things Iprefer to do on my own. So, what about you, Sunny Alvarez? Why don’t you tell me your story? I’m here just for you, just to listen to you.”
    â€œOh my God,” Sunny said, suddenly so grateful to have someone—anyone—to talk to that the story simply came spilling out: about Mac Reilly, TV’s star detective. All of it. All the hurt. All the pain. All the love. “And all for nothing.”
    â€œBut you’re so wonderful, so beautiful,” Kitty breathed admiringly. “How could Mac
not
want you?”
    Sunny choked back more tears. She hid her face in Tesoro’s already tear-damp fur, aware that the eyes of the beautiful Indian woman were also on her.
    â€œBut now you tell me, Kitty,” she said, speaking as she always did as the thought flashed into her head. “With all your friends, what are
you
doing, alone in a hotel bar on Christmas Day?”
    Kitty’s eyes took on that secretive look again. “I’m on my way to a party. In Cannes. In fact I must leave now.”
    â€œA Christmas party?” Sunny felt a pang of envy for this unknown woman.
    â€œI told you I have many friends. And now with you, perhaps I have a new one. I understand what you are going through. Why don’t you and I have lunch tomorrow? Go shopping? You know, just fun, girl talk, that sort of thing?”
    Loneliness was like a disease, it overtook you in weak moments and Sunny found herself agreeing almost too eagerly.
    Kitty patted her hand again, so sympathetic Sunny felt grateful. Clutching her black Chanel bag and with a flash of naked thigh, Kitty unhitched herself from the stool. “Tomorrow then. I’ll pick you up at noon.”
    Sunny watched her walk from the bar, an odd little knees-together trot in the black leather, red-soled Louboutin pumps that were too high for her and that did not go with the flimsy shirtdress, that Sunny noticed was unbuttoned to midthigh. She wondered fora quick moment if Kitty was a hooker, but then dismissed the thought. She was just too ordinary.
    Maha watched Kitty leave. She didn’t know what she was up to, but she knew it was not good, and sensed also that Sunny was vulnerable. She got up and went over to Sunny. She looked at the little dog lolling on her lap. “I would guess you were French,” she said, in her sweet singsong voice. “The French always have their dogs with them. But by your bearing, I can see that you are not. You must be American.”
    â€œI am,” Sunny admitted, warily.
    â€œExcuse me for interrupting, and allow me to introduce myself. My name is Maha Mondragon.”
    â€œSunny Alvarez.”
    Maha gave her an intense, assessing look. Then she said, “I felt it necessary to come here and warn you. Take care with that woman.”
    Did she mean Kitty Ratte? Nonplussed, Sunny stared back at her.
    Maha said, “Some of us are able to sense corruption. It has a particular unmistakable aroma. It permeates the atmosphere. Trust me.”
    Stunned into silence, Sunny took a nervous sip of champagne.
    â€œMy dear, I have something else of importance to say to you. Remember this. You must not be afraid of the future. Take whatever chances life might offer you.”
    Maha’s hand sat lightly on Sunny’s shoulder. “Trust me,” she said again. Then with a bow of her beautiful head, she returned to her table and the trio of waiting friends. She did not look back and they left together, heading, Sunny guessed with a knife blade of desolation stabbing her chest, for a wonderful dinner together. After all, it was Christmas Day. And
she
was alone in a hotel bar.
    Then in walked Prince Charming.

chapter 12
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    A weight lifted from