made her way to the freezer, where she was hiding a pack of cigarettes from herself. With a groan, she let her head rest against the freezer door for a moment as she thought. Finally, she pushed aside a stack of Lean Cuisines and fished out the cold pack of Salem Lights, tapping one free from the pack as she wove her way around her small kitchen table and back to her sofa. Placing the cigarette in her mouth, she felt the chill against her lips as the paper stuck.
Her conversation with Toby earlier in the week came rushing back to her. Was it a coincidence that someone was checking her out and then she'd received a letter from a long-lost friend? No way.
Her eyes caught sight of the small piece of paper that she'd disregarded earlier, now sitting on the floor. She was almost afraid to look.
She lit her cigarette and exhaled a long stream of smoke, her hand trembling a little as she held up the paper and read.
* * *
In soft cotton shorts and a slightly oversized t-shirt, Jacie sat at her dining room table scanning a set of architectural plans for a restaurant's dining area. She would visit the work site tomorrow, but she'd already had several phone conversations with the owner, who, like many of her clients, gave her vague instructions as to color preference, specific restrictions with price and quality, and left the design details up to her.
Which was just the way she liked it.
She'd been back in St. Louis for nearly five years, and during that time, Jacie had developed a reputation as not only a craftsman and good businesswoman but as an artist. Her tile and marble designs graced the floors and walls of some of the most spectacular historical and contemporary rooms in the South. And though her small company would take on standard commercial and exceptional domestic projects, she was finally in a financial position where she could restrict herself to the projects that sparked her creative interest. It had been a long time in coming.
Tiles of every color imaginable were stacked along the edges of the restaurant plans and she pushed aside a large pile of unopened mail to make room for another stack of hand-painted squares, purchased in New Mexico last spring. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that when the phone rang, she jumped.
She answered it absently, her eyes still fixed on the tiles, one hand sketching out an idea on a large notepad. "Jacie Priest."
"Hello, Ugly."
Jacie dropped her pencil. "Holy shit," she exclaimed, a disbelieving smile lighting her face. "Katy?"
Katherine laughed. "That would be me. Damn, it's good to hear your voice, Jacie."
Dark eyes went glassy. "Yours, too. I can't believe you're calling me after all these years. How did you get my number?" she asked quickly, knowing her home phone to be unlisted. "Where are you?"
"I'm here in St. Louis just like the paper says." There was a long pause. "Didn't you get an invitation?"
Jacie's brow crinkled. "What invitation?"
"An invitation from Gwen."
Jacie's smiled vanished and her grip on the phone tightened and Katherine could hear a few muffled curse words. "Why would I get an invitation from her?"
"Aww… shit, Jacie."
Jacie picked her pencil back up and began tapping it on her kitchen table. "Look, I have no idea what you're talking about. I was never very good at guessing games. I know I haven't gotten anything from Gwen." Her voice took on a dark edge. "And if I did, it would go in the circular file. If that's what you called me for, then you're wasting your time."
Unseen by Jacie, Katherine rolled her eyes. "Just check your mail. The invitation might be there. I got mine today."
"I don't–"
"God!" Katherine exploded. "You were always a pain in the ass. How could I have forgotten that?"
At that, Jacie couldn't help but chuckle. "And you're not?"
"Of course I am. We all were. Nobody could stand us but each other. Check your mail."
Jacie groaned and reached across the table and to grab a stack of unopened mail that
Her conversation with Toby earlier in the week came rushing back to her. Was it a coincidence that someone was checking her out and then she'd received a letter from a long-lost friend? No way.
Her eyes caught sight of the small piece of paper that she'd disregarded earlier, now sitting on the floor. She was almost afraid to look.
She lit her cigarette and exhaled a long stream of smoke, her hand trembling a little as she held up the paper and read.
* * *
In soft cotton shorts and a slightly oversized t-shirt, Jacie sat at her dining room table scanning a set of architectural plans for a restaurant's dining area. She would visit the work site tomorrow, but she'd already had several phone conversations with the owner, who, like many of her clients, gave her vague instructions as to color preference, specific restrictions with price and quality, and left the design details up to her.
Which was just the way she liked it.
She'd been back in St. Louis for nearly five years, and during that time, Jacie had developed a reputation as not only a craftsman and good businesswoman but as an artist. Her tile and marble designs graced the floors and walls of some of the most spectacular historical and contemporary rooms in the South. And though her small company would take on standard commercial and exceptional domestic projects, she was finally in a financial position where she could restrict herself to the projects that sparked her creative interest. It had been a long time in coming.
Tiles of every color imaginable were stacked along the edges of the restaurant plans and she pushed aside a large pile of unopened mail to make room for another stack of hand-painted squares, purchased in New Mexico last spring. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that when the phone rang, she jumped.
She answered it absently, her eyes still fixed on the tiles, one hand sketching out an idea on a large notepad. "Jacie Priest."
"Hello, Ugly."
Jacie dropped her pencil. "Holy shit," she exclaimed, a disbelieving smile lighting her face. "Katy?"
Katherine laughed. "That would be me. Damn, it's good to hear your voice, Jacie."
Dark eyes went glassy. "Yours, too. I can't believe you're calling me after all these years. How did you get my number?" she asked quickly, knowing her home phone to be unlisted. "Where are you?"
"I'm here in St. Louis just like the paper says." There was a long pause. "Didn't you get an invitation?"
Jacie's brow crinkled. "What invitation?"
"An invitation from Gwen."
Jacie's smiled vanished and her grip on the phone tightened and Katherine could hear a few muffled curse words. "Why would I get an invitation from her?"
"Aww… shit, Jacie."
Jacie picked her pencil back up and began tapping it on her kitchen table. "Look, I have no idea what you're talking about. I was never very good at guessing games. I know I haven't gotten anything from Gwen." Her voice took on a dark edge. "And if I did, it would go in the circular file. If that's what you called me for, then you're wasting your time."
Unseen by Jacie, Katherine rolled her eyes. "Just check your mail. The invitation might be there. I got mine today."
"I don't–"
"God!" Katherine exploded. "You were always a pain in the ass. How could I have forgotten that?"
At that, Jacie couldn't help but chuckle. "And you're not?"
"Of course I am. We all were. Nobody could stand us but each other. Check your mail."
Jacie groaned and reached across the table and to grab a stack of unopened mail that
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