“I don’t know her name, but they have been seen together, at restaurants a couple of times. When they confronted him, David told the Stewarts, who live just five doors from you, it was just a business dinner. But Jackie Stewart talks, and now the rest of the ladies aren’t so sure. She’s younger. I’m so sorry.” Hoffman’s hands are palms up. He’s just the messenger, I remind myself. None of these women like me, and I know that. This just gives them more crap to say about me. About us.

I cover my face with my hands. My lying, cheating husband. At least everyone is on my side now. David is so stupid. “He’s my life. I can’t lose him, too.”

“Then you won’t. I’ll help you connect with Josh, we’ll get Betsy back on track, and then full-on romance for the two of you. Have you been on vacation since—”

“No.”

“Out to dinner?”

“Nothing like that.”

“Well, no time like the present. If you were my wife, I’d be wining and dining you, spoiling you rotten.”

I swipe under both eyes, flash him a smile. I’m brave and desirable. “First things first. Could you call Josh? While I’m here?”

Hoffman seems pleased with an assignment and hurries to the other side of the desk. The next minute he hands me the phone. “It’s Sandy. Josh’s mom.”

“Hello, this is Jane Harris.”

“Hi, it’s Sandy, Josh’s mom. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Could I come over, speak to Josh, if he’s home?” I meet Hoffman’s eyes and then look out at the tennis courts.

“He’s here now if you want to pop over?” Sandy says, her voice sounding a tad British.

“Thank you. I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

Hoffman shakes his head. “Betsy and Josh were so cute together. Pretty perfect, if you ask me.”

“Young love is destined to end. But yes, nice boy. Thanks so much for connecting us.” I am up and headed to the door.

“You’re a good mom, Jane. Betsy is going to be fine.” Hoffman smiles. He’s waiting for me to say something.

“Yes, as long as she listens to her mother,” I say. “Maybe we gave them too much? I came from nothing, fought my way out of that stifling little town. I had my pick of men, never settled for one in high school like my girls.”

Hoffman’s staring at me. I must have spoken aloud. He says, “I can run you over to Josh’s house if you’d like.”

“Great, and sorry, for the outburst. I’m just beyond worried about Betsy,” I add, following him out the door to the line of staff golf carts.

“Where did you grow up?” Hoffman asks once we’re seated in the white golf cart with the green The Cove logo.