Firefly Lane (Firefly Lane 1)

The song always made her smile. At the entrance to the ballroom, she paused, looking around. The dinner tables were emptying out. Lines were forming again at the bar. She saw Marah in the corner, talking to a remarkably skinny girl in a dress that was smaller than a handkerchief.

"Perfect. "

Tamping down a flare of irritation, she kept moving. That was when she caught a flash of emerald-green silk and the world seemed to drop away from her.

Tully was on the dance floor, hanging all over Johnny. He held her with an easy familiarity, as if theyd spent a lifetime together. Although they should have been dancing, they were just standing there, a still pair amid the colorful swirl of the other dancers. Tully was looking up at him as if shed just asked him to take her to bed.

Kate couldnt draw a breath. For a terrible moment, she thought she might be sick.

You were always his second choice.

She knew that; making peace with it over the years was not the same as changing it.

The song ended and Johnny stepped back from Tully. Turning, he saw Kate. Through the jeweled array of gowns, their gazes met. There, in front of anyone who might be watching, she started to cry. Embarrassed, she walked out of the ballroom.

Okay, she ran.

Downstairs, at the elevators, she pushed the button impatiently. "Come on . . . come on . . . " She didnt want anyone to see her crying.

The bell rang and the door opened. She stepped inside, backing up against the wall, and crossed her arms. It took long seconds of impatient waiting to realize shed forgotten to press a button.

The doors were about to close when a hand pushed through.

"Go away," she said to her husband.

"We were dancing. "

"Ha!" Kate pressed the button for their floor, then wiped her eyes.

He stepped inside. "Youre being ridiculous. "

The elevator whisked them to their floor; doors opened. She walked away from him. "Fuck you," she yelled behind her, finding her key and opening her door. She went into the room, slammed the door shut behind her.

Then she waited.

And waited.

Maybe he went to Tully—

No.

She didnt really believe that. Her husband might carry a torch for Tully, but he was an honorable man, and Tully was her best friend.

That was what shed somehow forgotten in her jealous snit.

She opened the door, saw him sitting in the hallway, one leg stretched out, his bow tie hanging slack around his throat. "Youre still here. "

"You have our key. I hope youre going to apologize. "

She went to him, knelt beside him. "Im sorry. "

"I cant believe youd think—"

"I dont. "

She took his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Dance with me," she said, hating the tiny emphasis she put on me.

"Theres no music. "