Page 2 of Vodka and Chocolate Drops

Amber froze, fingers of dreading clawing their way up her spine.

She began digging faster for her keys.

Russell had not only used her, but had lied to her by omitting what the book was truly about.

Her tablet. She could get the book without even leaving the house. She flicked through apps until she found the one she wanted, then bought and downloaded Russell’s book, livid that she had to pay for a book she had helped create--both advertently and inadvertently. She glanced up at the TV in time to see a woman join Russell on the studio couch. His editor, Sabrina. She was gorgeous and everything Amber wasn’t. Her glossy hair a rippling sheen over her super-toned shoulders. Her black dress hugging every slim curve of her well-defined body. She had impossible hips and no apparent belly roll. How could a woman even survive with that little body fat?

Russell gave Sabrina a long kiss on the lips and Amber stood suddenly, knocking over the coffee table, sending her tablet flying. Her ex broke the kiss and smiled at the camera again.

Smiled at Amber.

That son of a…

Everything suddenly became clear.

Stress hadn’t caused Russell to become more and more distant over the past few months.

The workload as a debut author and the long drive from the city hadn’t led to the late nights.

The book’s problematic pacing wasn’t responsible for the distracted look in his eyes.

And the nights when he never came home? Those weren’t caused by late-day business meetings. It was because of Sabrina. All of it Sabrina.

Amber had played the fool and now everyone she knew would see it. Everyone would know how blind and naive she’d been. It was all right there in high definition. She fell onto the couch, gripping her head, trying to hold everything in, trying to stop the desperate thoughts slamming through her mind.

She made herself focus on Sabrina’s perfectly made up lips. Lips that had just kissed Russell. Had kissed him before. Casually. Passionately. Lips that claimed ownership. Lips that had probably kissed him while…no, don’t think about it.

Amber bunched her hands into fists, while her heart pounded hard and fast. He had been hers, the only thing keeping her from a life as a small-town nothing. And he’d used her. Lied to her. Cheated on her.

“Now Russell, don’t be so mysterious,” Sabrina teased, her voice laced with a flirtatious note that made Amber want to barf. “You can tell them about your muse.”

When he remained silent, the interviewer asked him how much artistic license he’d taken and whether Ember was real.

Sabrina laughed in a way that made it clear she had plenty to say on the subject. “Russell was very fortunate in that--”

“A gentleman never kisses and tells,” he interrupted.

Amber grabbed the tablet, her mind barely functioning as she skimmed the first chapter. She set down the book, unable to take any more. What she’d read proved he was a liar. He’d kissed. He’d told. It didn’t matter what coy lines he used on television, it was all there in the opening text. He’d taken something intimate and sacred. He’d taken her trust and betrayed her.

The sounds in the room narrowed until the only thing Amber could hear was her own heartbeat, the force of its thumping breaking her, little by little.

The program changed from the noon show to a soap opera, and its theme song woke Amber from her shock.

How had she been so desperate for love and recognition that she’d become blind to what Russell was really doing, to who he really was?

Who would be that dumb?

A nobody. A stupid, desperate, needy loser trying to live in a world where she obviously had never belonged.

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she stood. She couldn’t stay here any longer, surrounded by memories of Russell. She needed to leave before everyone in Blueberry Springs got hold of this and she became the talk of the town. After running upstairs, she began tossing her clothes and toiletries into a duffel bag, then hurried on through the old house, collecting her computer and other possessions. Ten minutes later, she dropped the bag in her car and slammed its protesting door as she turned to stare at the place.

If she ran away she would be letting Russell win one more time. She’d be making it easy for him to collect his last few things and skip off into his future of fortune and fame. By running, she’d be telling everyone in her hometown that Russell was right: she was a nobody anyone could use, and it was easy--she’d just disappear.

And if she left, she would be leaving her mother to deal with the ensuing gossip about her only daughter. Her mom would be left to defend Amber and all her failings. Alone.

Determined, Amber marched back into the house and began collecting items Russell had left behind or brought into their home. Picture frames, throw pillows, a vase, books, music, dishes, collectibles, magazines?everything she could get her hands on. Unable to carry more and unable to find a cardboard box, she stormed outside, where she opened her arms, satisfied with how things crashed and smashed at her feet as they tumbled down the front steps. Ignoring the gorgeous mountain view, she turned and entered the house once again. Room by room she cleared everything of Russell, wishing it felt more cathartic. But the more she worked, the more her mind replayed the hurt of how he’d used her, lied to her, then made it all public.

With tears streaking her cheeks, she ripped at the bed. After balling the linens in her arms, she opened the window and whipped them out into the early spring chill. The mattress! She wanted to burn the mattress. She wanted to burn the whole place down so there would be nothing left for Russell to face but her and the effects of his betrayal.

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