“Fine.” As he dried his hands his eyes skimmed over her newly bobbed hair. “I was late home, too. I stayed behind with Katrina to talk about the business.”

“Anything I should know?” Her headache made it difficult to be truly interested.

“There’s probably lots of things,” he said curtly.

Liv moved even closer, still feeling guilty about missing something important to him, and how she’d almost let Hank kiss her. “I’d like to know.”

He glanced at her again before parting his lips. “Well, Katrina thinks that—”

Johnny bounded into the room holding up a small pair of swimming shorts. “I think these have shrunk,” he said.

“More likely that you’ve grown.” Jake found a laugh for his son.

“I might get arrested if I wear them to the spa day,” Johnny said.

Liv whipped them out of his hand. She’d not worn her own swimsuit in ages and wondered if it would still fit her, too. “I’ll buy you some new ones.” She turned back to Jake. “Have you bought Katrina’s birthday present yet?”

Jake’s mouth fell ajar. “Oh, I thought you might have sorted it out.”

Liv stared at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll get something for her,” she said, feeling like she’d redeemed herself a little. “You were going to tell me your business talk with her...”

Jake glanced at his watch. “Sorry, it’ll have to wait. I said I’d go to the park with Johnny.”

When she arrived at Essie’s apartment, she drank two pints of water before crashing down into the writing chair. The previous night kept playing in her mind, the way Hank looked at her, and the sensation of his breath on her lips. Liv touched the side of her mouth and reminded herself that he wanted Essie, not her.

She’d not been that close to another man since meeting Jake. Again, she couldn’t help wondering if she’d settled down with him too soon. Had she missed out on dating other men, and other life experiences? Essie was worldlier than her. It gave her material for Georgia’s adventures that Liv didn’t have.

Liv’s bones felt heavy. She was exhausted after last night and from all the deceit and turmoil of the last few months. She just had to limp through eight more weeks of writing. Learning of Essie’s superstition about November the first pushed her on.

She had now finished chapter thirty-two of Book Twenty and had to write the end to Georgia’s story on her own. She had no skeleton bones to provide her with structure.