she could breathe again. She’d have to help Megan find him a better candidate. He was a nice guy. He deserved a nice woman. It just wasn’t her.
Tapping her foot as the valet brought her car around, she noticed her black pumps. She froze and stared at them, and then at her black suit.
In their office, it wasn’t necessary to dress formally. Megan always kidded her about her undertaker fashion, but Anna found it helped command respect, which didn’t come easily when you looked so young.
Except—holy crap—she was turning into white bread herself. No wonder Megan set her up with Kevin.
That wasn’t going to happen. She slipped off her shoes as the valet pulled her car around. He held out the keys to her cute little Fiat.
“Thanks.” She took them with a brilliant smile and traded them for her shoes.
The guy gaped in confusion at the black heels. “Um—”
“For your girlfriend.” She took money out of her purse and stuck it in the right shoe. “For you.”
She got into her car, a definite upgrade from the piece of crap she drove all through college and law school, took off her coat, and chucked it in the back. Maybe forever.
Her thoughts churned as she drove home to her apartment in Laurel Heights. Freya’s apartment, before she’d married Greg and they’d moved into a bigger place to accommodate their growing family.
Obviously she lost herself somewhere along the way. When she knew Max, what she wanted was security. Based on how hard Anna witnessed her sister working to support her, she didn’t think it was illogical.
But now that she had security, maybe she needed more. Security was great, but it didn’t mean she had to be stodgy. She wasn’t a naturally dull person—at least she didn’t used to be. Hell—she’d studied art for her undergraduate degree. Her sister was a graphic designer. Being a bohemian was in her genes.
What she needed to do was balance the practical with the wild. She needed security, yes, but she also needed adventure, spice, and spontaneity.
She’d had all of that with Max.
What had she been thinking, letting him get away? No, she hadn’t just let him get away—she’d pushed him away.
She shook her head in disgust as she parked on her block. Hindsight was a bitch.
Chapter Two
Her sister picked a bottle of hot pink nail polish from the rack on the wall, studied it, and then put it back. “What color are you getting?”
Anna held up the little bottle in her hand.
“Red, of course. I think I’ll do”—Freya reached for a dark purple and checked the bottom—” Lincoln Park After Dark .”
She frowned at her sister. “What do you mean, of course ?”
“You always get red. I don’t know why I asked.”
She did? She frowned at the bottle in her hand. “This is a fire engine red. Last time I got a brick color.”
Freya shrugged. “Get whatever you want. The beauty of a pedicure is that you can pick something different in a few weeks.”
“But maybe I should do something different now.” She scanned the rack and plucked out the first color that caught her eye. “I’ll do this.”
“You can’t get more different than green.” Her sister strode to one of the spa chairs that had been set up for them and settled into it.
Anna took the next chair over and slipped off her shoes. She put her feet into the basin filled with warm water in front of her. “If I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?”
“No, I’m going to lie to you.” Freya rolled her eyes. “What’s going on with you today?”
“I had a date last night.”
“Based on your attitude, I’d guess it didn’t go well.”
“I called him white bread to his face.”
Freya burst out laughing, deep from her belly so that everyone in the nail salon turned and looked.
“Sure, you can laugh,” Anna grumbled, sinking into her chair. “You have the perfect husband.”
“I do, don’t I?”
“You have perfect children, too.”
“I have little monsters. Josh is
The Science of Leonardo: Inside the Mind of the Great Genius of the Renaissance