Second Shot by Cindy Dees PDF EPUB & PDF

Second Shot by Cindy Dees PDF EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

  • Status Available for Download
  • Author: Cindy Dees
  • Language: English
  • Genre: Suspense
  • Format: PDF / EPUB
  • Size: 2 MB
  • Price: Free

HELEN WARWICK STARED AT THE GLOSSY BLACK DOOR WITH ITS periodaccurate brass knocker and kickplate. It was as carefully understated as
every other door in this upscale Georgetown neighborhood and screamed of
wealth and privilege.

Since when did her middle child become all of this? For that matter,
when did Peter grow up? One minute he’d been a bright, charming child
with no talent for sports but a discerning eye for everything and everyone
around him, and the next he was an upwardly mobile Gen Whatever-theywere up-to-now’er with a live-in boyfriend, an art collection, a prestigious
address, and a puppy.

It was her fault, of course, that she’d missed so much of his childhood.
She’d missed far too much of all her children’s lives. But, at long last, this
was her chance to make up for it in some small measure.
Retirement. Motherhood. She could do this.
She lifted the knocker and let it fall.

Liang—Li to the family—opened the door immediately. “Mrs. Warwick.
So good of you to puppysit for us tonight.”
She air-kissed him on both cheeks and held out a slightly singed apple
pie balanced in her left hand. “Housewarming gift.”
“Did you bake this?” he asked in genuine surprise, taking the pie as she
set her purse down on the impeccable Louis XV credenza.
“I did. Eat it at your own peril.”
He laughed warmly and led her into the kitchen where a small Renoir
pastel casually filled a wall beside the refrigerator. It was the study for part
of a more famous piece, but still a work of art in its own right. Where the
boys got the money for such things, she didn’t know and didn’t ask. Of
course, it didn’t hurt that Peter was an art dealer in an auction house that
sold antiques and fine art. But still. Renoir?
“Don’t you look nice tonight, Mother,” Peter said coolly, sweeping into
the kitchen with all the style he usually did. He wore a crisply tailored black
suit that was just shy of being a tuxedo.

She’d agonized in her own closet for longer than she cared to admit,
pondering what to wear to a puppysitting date. What clothing struck a tone
of apology, commitment to building a relationship, and motherly love
without sacrificing the cool sophistication she knew Peter cherished in all
things? She’d settled on black wool slacks, a simple cashmere sweater, and
a pair of black, Italian leather, stiletto-heeled bootlets that had to have cost
more than her car. Thank God the agency had footed the bill for them as
part of a disguise she’d worn a few years back at an Italian opera house.

“You look dashing as always, darling,” she murmured, air-kissing him as
well. When did her children stop actually hugging her, anyway? Probably
too many parental mistakes ago for her to remember.

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