“That’s possible too. I’m just saying you should think it through and not necessarily believe everything you’re told.”

Jamie tilted her head and stared at the stone fireplace. “He did seem interested at the beach.” Jamie ran her finger along the couch’s trim. “He even said I have pretty hair.”

Lucas smiled. “That doesn’t sound like a boy who thinks you’re a loser.”

“I know. I thought he’d call, but it’s been almost a week, and he hasn’t been at the beach either.”

Lucas squeezed her shoulder. “Give it time. Maybe he doesn’t want to appear too eager.”

“I guess.”

Jamie and Lucas talked until she felt better, and when his sister left, she hugged him before sliding out the back door.

Kate changed into pajamas and opened the closet door, peeking at the suit she’d bought for her appearance with Dr. Phil. It was a dove-gray Ann Taylor with a structured jacket and streamlined pants. The classic white oxford under the jacket was a good contrast for her skin tone and black hair.

She ran her fingers down the soft material of the suit coat, feeling anxiety work into her fingers. She’d been invited on the show to advise an engaged couple who was having difficulty merging their personalities. What if she said the wrong thing? Worse, what if Dr. Phil disagreed with her advice?

Relax. You’re trained for this. You’re an expert.

Except in my own relationships, where I’m the epitome of disaster.

Nobody knows that. As far as they’re concerned, you married your Mr. Right.

But what if the media attention from this appearance invited scrutiny of her marriage? What if someone figured it out? What if one of Bryan’s relatives saw the show and leaked the truth?

Kate closed the closet door. She could only hope for the best. She’d already taken preventative measures. Maybe one more call to Bryan, asking him to check in with his family, wouldn’t hurt.

But maybe that was just her wanting to talk to Bryan. She was suddenly tired, though it was only nine o’clock. She approached the nightstand, ready to set her alarm, when she noticed a box on the new nightstand Lucas had brought home.

The box was wrapped in pale pink paper with a white bow. She picked it up. “To Kate,” it said on the tiny gift tag in Lucas’s left-handed scrawl. She pried open the piece of tape, unwrapped the package, and pulled out a navy-blue velvet box.

The hinge creaked as she opened the lid. Inside, a delicate cross dangled from a fine silver strand.

“Hope you don’t mind.” Lucas’s voice startled her from the doorway. He looked boyishly shy, and she couldn’t keep from smiling.

“What kind of woman minds getting jewelry?”