“If their marriage is over, then why hasn’t he divorced her?”

“He’s going to. He said he just needs more time to get things in order. Money, properties, etc.”

I slowly shook my head. “I don’t trust guys like that. I think he’s stringing you along.”

“Your problem is that you do trust guys like that. Look at Dickwad. It only took you six years to leave his sorry ass. What did he say when you left?”

I got up from the table, cleaned off my plate, and put it in the dishwasher. “He told me he never loved me.” I placed my hands on the sink and paused. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I need to go lie down for a while.”

“I’m flying to New York and chopping off his balls. How dare he?”

I managed a small smile and went back to my bedroom, climbed into bed, and slept for another two hours.

“Get up, sleepyhead. We have salon appointments!” Giana exclaimed as she sat on the edge of the bed.

I rolled over and pushed her away. “No salon appointments.”

“Yes.” She pulled at my arm until I sat up. “You’re getting out of this bed and we’re going to get pampered for tonight’s gala. There are going to be very rich and influential people there. Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

“I don’t care who’s going to be there and I’m not meeting anyone. I’m done with guys. I hate all men. Especially men with money.”

“Fair enough, but we still have to get ready and go. Our appointment is in an hour and traffic can be a bitch around here.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “Just remember that, after today, you can’t make me do anything else.”

“I won’t. I made a promise and I always keep my promises.” She smiled. “Now get up and follow me to my closet. We need to find you a dress to wear.”

****

I stood in front of the mirror and stared at myself. My long, brown drab hair was now the prisoner of an ombre color, going from dark to honey-toned ends that sat in an up do with cascading curls. The dress I wore was a red, embellished strap, blouson dress with matching red heels. I wanted to wear the black one, but Giana told me that I was depressing enough and I wasn’t going to magnify it by wearing black. I pulled the derma blend makeup from my bag and carefully covered the scar on my arm. It was something that I was very self-conscious of and covered up when I wasn’t wearing long sleeves. Giana walked into the bedroom and did a little twirl in front of me.

“How do I look?”

“Amazing and gorgeous,” I replied.