She woke up to Boop, licking the side of her eye where salty trails ran down into her hair. "Hey, feisty boy, stop it. You know I don't like dog kisses," she purred, reaching up to rub crust from her eyes, realizing she'd been crying in her sleep again. Sitting up, she drew a blanket around her bare breasts and dug under the covers for Betty as her head started throbbing.

"Damn!" she whispered to Boop as the list of chores ran rampant through the pounding hangover, and she grabbed her cell to check the time. "Damn, damn, damn!" Jumping up, she headed for the shower, snatching some clean clothes stacked neatly on top of a box in the corner.

Dressed in black boots, black jeans, a black shell and cardigan, she ran down the long flight of stairs, letting her fingers glide along the glowing, Cuban mahogany railing with the dogs yapping excitedly behind her as their short legs maneuvered the steep steps. The first thing she'd done, when she got back to New Orleans, was to find a rag and bottle of Natchez Solution and polish the stair rail until it glistened...the way she'd always kept it before John had forced her to leave her home and career.

A quick call to Lydia to tell her she was sorry she hadn't made it into the office this morning and to check if any new consignment stores had opened up since she'd been gone. Being assured there were none the quality and value of Renaissance Interiors, Sally fed the dogs, made coffee and toast then sat at the card table with pad and pen, putting it first on her list. As much as didn't like the drive into Metairie, she had to admit that she always found treasures there at a good price. It was like a one stop shopping spree, with furniture of all kinds, and always overflowing with items of décor, most from wealthy estates.

Before she realized it, she was looking forward to fixing the house up just the way she wanted it, without John's approval or it having to be his idea. She let Betty and Boop finish eating as she completed her list, let them into the courtyard, dazzling in the almost blinding, noon sunlight then headed upstairs to finish her makeup, excited about the adventure ahead.

*

Three and a half hours later and Sally had dickered, pouted, smiled, cajoled, pleaded and purchased practically everything she needed. The headboard was first. She'd go the next day to a mattress shop then Bed, Bath and Beyond to buy some inexpensive linins and towels. John, of course, would be incensed she hadn't gone to Saks Fifth Avenue at Canal Place but, oh well...anything to irritate the hell out of him. She was sick of being told what she could and couldn't do, buy and not buy.

She had settled on a smaller antique oak table with six chairs that would fit nicely in the dining part of the kitchen, thinking it was a good, usable size for wherever she ended up. She found a couple of matching sofas she wasn't crazy about, but for the price she'd make them work with a scattering of just the right pillows and a throw. The coffee and end tables were harder for her to decide on, but she finally went for older, scuffed up ones that matched, knowing she could work wonders on them with a little sandpaper and stain.

Thank goodness, John at least allowed her a small allowance. She'd been saving most of it, along with some of the money she'd made with her side businesses, in a bank account he knew nothing about. Since she'd bought so much, Sally got the owner to agree to deliver the merchandise the following Tuesday at no charge. With a nice tip, she was confident she could get the movers to help her place things while they were there.

Satisfied, she pulled into the five o'clock traffic along Veterans Highway, turned on the radio and thought about all the places she needed to go tomorrow. Moving at a snail's pace, she glanced at the box on the floor of the passenger side, containing a green vase, and decided to swing by the office on Washington and see if Lydia was still there working late as she often did. It would be on the way. If she didn't see her Jag in the parking lot, she wouldn't even stop.

Thirty minutes later, she propped her sunglasses on top of her head as she entered the dark parking garage and spotted Lydia's car. Parking next to it, she leaned over and lifted the box before getting out and heading to the back door of the real estate office. It was exceptionally quiet as she tiptoed around making sure no one else was still there working. Going down a long hallway, she was relieved to see light spilling from her office manager's open doorway.

Bathed in the light from within, Lydia was shaking her bent head over a contract, so Sally cleared her throat to let her know she was there.

"What in blazes are you doing here?" the still beautiful Grande Dame asked as her eyes crinkled and the corners of her mouth tilted up. "I thought you weren't going to make it in today."

Sally sat the box on her desk. "Tell me this is just like the one on your end table in the living room."

Moving some of the tissue paper to the side, she stared down at it then back up at the redhead. "Where on earth did you find it? It's identical. I used to have a second one. They belonged to my grandmother, but when the house was broken into that time—"

"I know! It was stolen. I found it at Renaissance. I was almost positive it was just like it and bought it on the chance. Thank you, Lydia, for everything you've done for me. I mean it."

Her face flushed. "Don't be silly, I can't take this. At least let me pay you for it, if you insist."

"Uh, no way, sister!"

Her mentor stood and held out the box. Sally shook her head, backed out of the doorway and headed down the hall to the front of the office, planning to escape through the front door and make her way around the building to the garage in back. Just as she passed the receptionist desk, a flicker of movement caught her eye and she stopped long enough to see Harry Normand deep in conversation with some woman she didn't recognize.

Her stomach did a flip-flop as she forced a smile but neither one of them gave her so much as a glance. Hearing, Lydia calling her name behind her, she unceremoniously unlocked the front door, letting it bang a bit as she slammed it shut.

Once outside, the crisp air hit her and she tried shrugging off the offended feeling she had. Strange, she'd been so wrapped up in what she was doing today she hadn't given Harry a thought. But when she saw him with another woman and he didn't acknowledge her at all, something frighteningly close to resembling a speck of jealousy crept its way into her being and tightened her chest.

"Oh what in the bloody hell? I do not need this shit," she murmured under her breath and headed for her car, hoping Lydia wouldn't try to catch her in the garage to give the gift back.

Sighing with relief, Sally opened the Jag door and started to climb in when she heard the back office door squeak open and swung back around, positive it would be her friend. Instead, it was Mr. Normand staring at her silently, his demeanor somehow smug. She tilted her head to the side questioningly, but all the answer she got was him taking a step back and closing the door.

There's something wrong with that man, she told herself as a sly grin lit her face, knowing he had acknowledged her after all, and she backed out the parking spot wondering if subconsciously it's just what she'd been hoping would happen when she made the spur of the moment decision to stop in and see Lydia, instead of waiting till the Wednesday office meeting. Men are visual creatures, after all...out of sight, out of mind. Then as quickly, he was forgotten as her cell started jangling.