Thad said, “No one is saying you can be bought, Amelia.”

Parker emerged from the bedroom, too, out of breath, his arms full and a duffel bag hanging off each shoulder. “I think that’s the last of it,” he said, huffing.

“It sure as hell is,” I said, following him out and slamming the door.

Embarrassingly, I burst into tears as I got into his front seat. Parker, sweaty, out of breath, and so cute it defied explanation, put his arm around my shoulder. “Anyone who cheats on you isn’t worth the price of the paper they’re printed on, Liabelle.” It didn’t make sense, but I found it oddly comforting. He removed his arm, started the ignition, and said, “You know what we’re going to do?”

I shrugged sullenly.

“We’re going to go pay a visit to my friend Hannah.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“She is the most vicious divorce attorney you’ll ever meet.”

I sniffed and nodded.

Parker added: “Then we’re going to go get Sheree and Philip, and I’m going to take you all to dinner to celebrate that Amelia Saxton is free, and the world is hers for the taking.”

My life, in less than a week, had gone to hell in a handbasket. But I had to admit that, when he put it that way, it didn’t sound half-bad.

Parker Thaysden can dance. I don’t know why I was so surprised by that. Sure, I figured he’d learned to waltz at cotillion. But I didn’t know he had, like, moves.

When we got back to Philip and Sheree’s place and were about to call it a night, I was only half-surprised to find twenty-plus cars in the driveway and all the furniture in the front two rooms moved out.

“It’s the Amelia Saxton Freedom Festival!” Philip shouted.

I laughed at the Old School reference, and, before I could worry about a party of this magnitude on a work night, realized I didn’t have a single place to be. “Philip, will you two ever grow up?”

He nodded emphatically. “Most certainly not, if we can help it.”

I kissed him on the cheek. “You are amazing. Thank you for letting me crash.”

I felt Sheree’s arm appear from behind me. Her curly hair was long and free down below her shoulders, and her pale skin was flushed from dancing. “Friends don’t let friends stay at cheap motels while they are having major life crises.”

I smiled, and she whispered, “I think Parker likes you.”

“Sheree, you’re a little tipsy.”

“Even still…” She trailed off as Parker came up, grabbed my hand, and pulled me out into the empty living room-turned-dance floor.

“I love this song!” he shouted to me.

I smiled at his enthusiasm as he spun me around and Fergie shouted through the speakers, “Tonight’s gonna be a good night. Tonight’s gonna be a good, good night!” I could never have imagined when I woke up this morning that I would have agreed with her.

“Thank you for tonight,” I said in his ear as he pulled me to him. “I feel much better.”