Keeley asked, "I'm surprised you trust him so much, considering, but I'm sure he can find you a lawyer. Should I talk to him for you?"

Alice stifled a laugh. "Are you insulting your husband?"

Chuckling, she adjusted her grip on her baby. "He's just hard to get close to. He doesn't exactly scream 'trust me.' Most people are afraid of him."

Her assessment was accurate, surprising Alice. Keeley wasn't wearing rose-colored glasses; she saw Aaron clearly. Most women in love only see the good.

Alice had been that way about Brock, until it was too late. She should have divorced him years ago, or better yet, never married him.

"You're not," Alice pointed out.

"Not now, but I was in high school. He's mellowed a lot since then."

Mellowed? He was a completely different person! That was a vast understatement. But that wasn't the point. She should answer the question.

"I was going to ask him for a lawyer referral, but I didn't want to bother him while he's busy," Alice admitted.

Keeley's expression softened. "It won't be a bother. Aaron looks after his people. If you want, I can keep him back after everyone else leaves, and you can ask him then."

Keeley was kind, helping a near stranger out of the goodness of her heart, confirming Alice's initial impression.

Alice smiled gratefully. "I'd appreciate that, thanks."

"We should probably head back before Aaron sends a search party," Keeley joked.

The joke wasn't far off. As they approached their table, Aaron was visibly relieved. He kissed Keeley, asking what took her so long.

Keeley, mentioning a long bathroom line, spared Alice's pride, further enhancing Alice's positive impression. No wonder he loved her!

A pang of self-doubt hit Alice. Would anyone ever see her as wonderful? Getting divorced at twenty-sixmen might see her as damaged goods.

Alice hadn't loved Brock for a while, but healing enough to date again would take time. She wanted a warm, loving family like Aaron's. He'd escaped the cold world of high society; why couldn't she?

Her family would be furious and might cut her off. She had a French literature degree and no job experience. How would she find work?

Her life was about to crash down. It would be better than Brock and his family, but only barely. Alice felt lost and unprepared for independence.

Watching Keeley interact effortlessly, Alice wondered if she could ask for help adjusting to a normal life. Keeley had earned a PhD; surely she could advise her on finding a job and apartment.

Roger, noticing Alice's distraction, asked with concern, "Alice, are you alright?"

She forced a smile, not wanting to worry him. He'd always been kind during shareholder meetings, defending her against chauvinistic members.

"I'm a bit tired. I'll be fine. Thank you."

Aaron signaled for the check and insisted on paying, since he'd organized the dinner. The bill wasn't huge by high-society standards, but Alice needed to stop thinking that way. A normal person couldn't afford it.

She had many lifestyle adjustments to make. She didn't even know how to cook.

Everyone left, until only Alice and the Hales remained. Aaron got straight to the point.

"What do you need, Alice?"

"I need a lawyer unconnected to the Kellys," she said bluntly. "Do you know anyone?"

Aaron's genuine smile shocked her. "I've been waiting for you to ask. You deserve better than Brock Kelly. I know several; I'll send you their information tonight."

She couldn't afford a top lawyer. Seeing her concern, he said, "I'm on your side. I'll pay for the lawyer. Don't worry about anything except which assets you want. With the Kellys' fortune, you should live comfortably, if not lavishly, once you're free."

Tears welled up. When she'd become a shareholder, Aaron had suggested it was good to have a powerful person in her corner. She never expected to need it this way.

Keeley was right; Aaron looked after his people.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"No need," he said casually. "You've helped me a lot. I couldn't have done it without you."

She nodded hurriedly and fled, her mind racing. First, she couldn't let Brock suspect anything.

He was on the couch, reading a magazine—unusual. He was rarely home on weekend afternoons; usually he was with his mistress.

"Where were you?"

His tone was indifferent. Alice sighed inwardly; she was used to it.

"I had dinner with friends."

"Be ready for Lacy Knighton's funeral tomorrow. Everyone will be there."

Funeral?! Alice didn't know Lacy was dead! Did Aaron know? He'd never liked her, but he must have reacted to her death; they'd known each other since middle school.

"I'll be there," she managed, reeling from the news.

Lacy Knighton, dead! Alice had seen her less than two weeks ago. What happened?

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