Annie turned to face Jane, not only to thank her for what she’d just said, but also to make sure that from that angle she hadn’t been able to see the full-wattage smile she had just sent in Kristin’s direction.

“Isn’t that what wives are for?” Annie’s voice sounded too sweet. She felt caught out. She reached for her now empty wine glass. “To support each other through the hard times?” Then again, she’d supported Jane through many a hard time—and not only financially difficult ones. In her inebriated state, Annie believed she could afford to send another woman that particular smile.

“Oh, yes,” Sheryl said, and put a hand on Kristin’s shoulder. “I’ve put mine through her paces as well.” She gave Kristin a loving, very-unlike-Sheryl look.

“And we’re not even legally married,” Kristin said drily.

They all burst out into a chuckle. Annie was happy to have a laugh because she needed something to reduce the tension building inside of her. She wasn’t sure she would be able to sit through another dinner like this and not give herself away.

Chapter Eight

Jane had added one measly chapter to her work in progress during the past week. Over the years, she had trained herself to produce new words every day except Monday—that was her and Annie’s day—even during launch week, when the nervous energy that came with releasing a new book exhausted her and made her unable to think of much else. The launch of this book, however, she used as the perfect excuse to procrastinate more. To hell with that first draft. She had another book in third draft on which she should spend some time and another one that had just come back from her editor. She figured she might have a bit too much on her plate right now, anyway, and she’d start again on the first draft next week, after this book signing was over.

When she was still with her publisher, Jane had had no choice but be a good sport about these things and turn up for all the events her publisher set up—back in the day when niche publishers actually still had time and money to make that sort of effort. Once, she had even done a local radio interview and had been ambushed into reading an excerpt from a very erotic short story she’d written, live on air.