“Did you hear him propose?” Hayley practically shrieked.

“Not exactly. It was a Chinese restaurant. When she cracked open her fortune cookie, the ring fell out.”

“So what happened then?”

“I gues the fortune said, ‘Will you marry me?’ She screamed, said yes, and the waiters started clapping.”

“How embarrassing!”

“You’re right,” Regan agreed. “This was not the guy for you.”

“Was she pretty?”

“Well,” Regan began.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Hayley interrupted. Her voice cracked. “He must have been planning this for a while. Why did he string me along? Just to be able to go to A-list parties and hot nightclubs? Was he just waiting to see if he’d get to go to the premiere last night before he dumped me?”

“I don’t know, Hayley. But you’re better off without him. He must have been lying to this other woman, too.”

“Regan, I’m going to get back at him. Somehow. I’ll figure it out. He’ll be sorry, believe me.”

“Hayley, be careful. Forget him. You’ll meet someone else. You’re out all the time …”

“That’s what everyone says, but it’s not easy. I work hard at these events. It’s business. Last year I tried an Internet dating service, and what happened? They set me up with my brother!”

“I know,” Regan said sympathetically.

“I have to run to the subway. I’ll call you later, okay?” Hayley asked quickly, sounding as if she were trying not to cry.

“Call me anytime, Hayley. You have my cell number.”

“Thanks. ‘Bye”

That guy is really a jerk, Regan thought as she hung up the phone and headed into the kitchen. If he had gone to the premiere with Hayley, when would he have proposed to that girl? Tonight?

The phone rang as Regan was pouring herself a cup of coffee. She reached for the receiver on the wall.

“Hello.”

“Regan, I’m going to get back at him!” Hayley shouted vehemently. Regan could hear the roar of the subway in the background. “I don’t know how, but I’ll figure something out. Talk to you later.”

The phone clicked in Regan’s ear. A moment later it rang again. She’s so upset, Regan thought as she answered, expecting to hear more specific plans for Hayley’s revenge.

But it was her mother.

“Hi, Mom. I thought you’d be writing now.”

Nora Regan Reilly was a well-known suspense writer who liked to hit the computer by six A.M.

“I was,” Nora said, “but, Regan, can you do me a favor and take the train down this morning?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I just received a frantic phone call from Karen Fulton. She’s the high school friend I reconnected with at our reunion in the spring, who lives in San Diego. She just got word that her mother, the irrepressible Edna Frawley, sold their house here at the shore in Bay Head.”