Half-awake, Lisa Foley stretched languidly in bed and looked at Paul sleeping contentedly next to her. The events of the previous night sprang up in her mind, as a contented smile spread over her lips. She surveyed her surroundings through half-closed lids. She knew the furnishings of the room of the prestigious B&B in Southampton where they were staying by heart. It was the same room Paul rented for their summer weekends, but there was something incredibly special about the Hamptons in the fall. The town was devoid of the pesky summer crowds, and the beach was deliciously deserted. But all of that paled in comparison to the events that had transpired last night, making Southampton forever Lisa’s favorite destination. Last night, after a quiet dinner at Pierre’s followed by dessert, Paul had asked her to be his wife just as Lisa was contemplating a forkful of strawberry shortcake.

  Careful not to wake Paul, Lisa extended her left hand in front of her eyes and admired the ring on her finger. It was indeed a gorgeous ring. She had been expecting a diamond, but a five-carat sapphire of perfect clarity would do. The ring had belonged to Paul’s mother, and he had made a big deal about it, so Lisa had pretended to be impressed. Personally, she would have preferred Paul to shell out the cash for a new ring. What better way could there be for a man to demonstrate his affection for a woman? But Paul could be sentimental at times – a quality that Lisa adored about him. She had never lacked for male attention, but dating was a far cry from marriage, and Lisa had found that unless a girl had a sizeable trust fund to supplement her good looks, it was not an easy task to snag an eligible bachelor. And while Lisa’s family was comfortably middle class, her parents were far from wealthy. She did not have rich grandmothers or aunts bequeathing her unexpected millions, so marrying a capable provider was the only option. In Lisa’s definition, an eligible bachelor was handsome, agreeable, and capable of taking care of his future wife. Thankfully, Paul was all of these things.

  Lisa’s thoughts turned to the time when she and Paul first met. One night, tired from work, Lisa had dragged herself to Mindy Lawlor’s – Mindy Frank’s – birthday party. Lisa and Mindy had gone to college together, but that’s where their similarities ended. Mindy had been fortunate to land herself with a husband who provided for her splendidly: Josh Lawlor was in the investment banking division at JP Morgan. Not that Mindy had to worry about making a living: her parents had provided her with a sizeable trust fund. Lisa figured that the party would likely be a bust, filled with engaged and married couples, but it was still better than brooding alone in her apartment. For the first time in her life, Lisa had not even bothered to check her makeup, neglecting to dab concealer over those horrible dark circles under her eyes. She did not care how she looked; she just wanted a drink after a terrible day at the office. But suddenly, there was Paul Bostoff, Josh’s friend from summer camp. Sensing Paul’s keen gaze upon her, she rushed to the ladies’ room and hastily repaired her makeup. Ten minutes later, she looked as good as new. Well, at least in the dim lighting of the place, she could pass for looking as good as new. Paul’s attraction to her was undeniable. Lisa took things slowly, alternating oozing sexuality with demure coyness, building up Paul’s anticipation, yet being careful not to overdo it. Men wanted challenge, and yet they did not want to be challenged too much. At the time, she was twenty-seven years old: three years away from thirty, and there was no time to waste. Paul’s lineage might not have been as glamorous as that of Lisa’s previous boyfriends, but he was the one who put the ring on her finger, and it would have to do.

  Lisa heard Paul stir and smiled with the anticipation of many carefree years that stretched before her as Mrs. Paul Bostoff.

  “Good morning.” Paul smiled at her.

  “Hi, baby.” Lisa cuddled next to Paul, her foot reaching for his under the covers.

  “How did the future Mrs. Bostoff sleep?”

  “Perfectly fine, thank you.” Lisa smiled, sliding her trim body over Paul’s. “And she can’t wait to make love to her future husband.”

  Later that morning, Lisa wiped the remaining drops of the maple syrup from her plate with the last bite of the pancake.

  “That good, huh?” Paul smiled as he watched her devouring the last of the pancakes.

  “Your lovemaking has made me ravenous.” Lisa batted her eyelashes.

  “Well, then, we’d better stock up on food.”

  We’d better not, thought Lisa. Already she felt guilty about this decadent feast, but it was Sunday, and she was simply in too good a mood for the usual gray option of oatmeal and half a grapefruit. Come Monday, she would be back on her strict eating plan. At her height of five two, even an ounce of extra weight would be instantly noticeable.

  “So, what do you want to do today?” asked Paul.

  “Anything you want.” Lisa smiled dreamily. She might have hooked the fish, but she had yet to haul her catch ashore, and until she became Mrs. Bostoff, Lisa’s last name was going to be Obedience. “We could take a stroll around town – check out the galleries or walk on the beach.”

  “I like the galleries idea.” Paul decided. “Perhaps we’ll find something interesting for our new place.”

  Lisa’s heart jumped. She had planned to delicately broach the subject of moving in together, but Paul had beaten her to it.

  “I hope I’m not rushing things.” Paul took her hand. “But I’m sure once we tell Dad, he’s going to want a big wedding, and I just can’t wait a year to wake up to you every morning.”

  “I can’t wait either.” Lisa squeezed Paul’s hand. She tried not to think about the year-long engagement. If it were up to her, she would board the plane to Vegas tomorrow. That way if things did not work out between them, she could at least get alimony. But family had to be contended with, and if Mr. Bostoff wanted a big wedding for his son, Lisa would sit back and bide her time.

  Lisa turned her face to the gentle breeze as she walked next to Paul, her hand entwined with his. They were strolling down the main town street, throwing leisurely glances at the window displays of galleries that peppered the town. To put it mildly, the ratio of galleries and souvenir shops to the local population was disproportionate, but then these ornate displays of overpriced merchandise were intended for the tourists, and now, with the summer crowds gone, this imbalance was palpable. Almost every store was empty, with clerks yawning discreetly behind the counters. A few more weeks and many stores would reduce their hours and some would shut down entirely for the winter.

  Lisa felt Paul’s grip tighten around her fingers and looked up.

  “It’s my brother’s wife, Candace, over there,” Paul muttered. “I had no idea that they would be down here this weekend. I just hope we won’t get sucked into coming over to their house. Ever since my brother bought that ostentatious place, he’s been showing it off to everyone he knows.”

  “Let’s go over and say hello.” Lisa put on a smile: spending the afternoon with Paul’s brother’s family was not at the top of her list. Still, she knew that Jon Bostoff did not hold a warm place in his heart for her, but maybe, just maybe, she could manage to change his mind by turning Jon’s wife into an ally.

  “We have to. She’s nodding at us; there’s no escape,” Paul grumbled.

  A few moments later, a beautiful blond woman in her late thirties was smiling at them and kissing Paul on the cheek. Lisa thought that Jon’s wife looked exactly like Christy Brinkley: the same golden hair, sky-blue eyes, and a million dollar smile. And from what Lisa had heard about Jon’s wife, her smile was indeed worth millions. Jon’s wife came from sizeable wealth; the kind of wealth that the Bostoffs could only dream about.

  “It’s so nice to see you again, Lisa,” Candace was saying.

  “You too, Candace,” Lisa chirped. “Paul did not know you were going to be up here this weekend. We would have stopped by and visited.”

  “Jon didn’t tell you, Paul?” Candace began and then caught herself. “Oh, well, he’s been so busy lately… But now that I’ve run into you, you’re coming over: Jon is making barbecue, a
nd I don’t want to hear any excuses. Paul, your nephews will be so happy to see you.”

  Paul tightened his grip on Lisa’s hand. “I’m looking forward to seeing them too.”

  “I’m parked right over there.” Candace motioned to the parking spot across the street.

  “Great. We’ll follow you in my car,” said Paul. “Let me help you with these.” He motioned at Candace’s packages.

  “Oh, thanks. You’re a sweetheart.”

  As they walked to Candace’s car, Lisa wondered why Paul did not mention their engagement. Could it be he was too taken aback to remember, or was it that he simply did not want to break the news to his family? Well, whatever it was, Lisa was not leaving Jon’s house without announcing the big news.