It didn’t matter that her head was pounding or that she was angrier than she had ever been in her life—Brooklyn Demeris was determined to apply her eyeliner and suck it up.

I’ve been in exile long enough, she told herself. This is happening, no matter what.

“Brooklyn? I need the bathroom!” Veronica cried impatiently from the hallway. Brooklyn scowled at her reflection.

“You need to use yours,” Brooklyn snapped back. “That’s why you have one.”

“I can’t get in there right now,” her roommate argued. “Come on, Brooklyn! I just need to pee!” Brooklyn threw open the door and glowered angrily at the petite brunette.

“No!” she growled. “Go undo the mess you made in your bathroom and stay out of mine!”

She slammed the door before Veronica could protest, shaking her head in disbelief. She had shared the three-bedroom house with Veronica Saddler for almost two years, and it seemed that the tension between them only escalated with each passing day.

There were fundamental differences between the women, ones that had not seemed enormous at first, but were quickly becoming a nuisance. Veronica was messy while Brooklyn, who was by no means a neat freak, did not appreciate the endless piles of dishes in the sink.

Especially when we have a dishwasher, she thought, willing her face to stop creasing so unattractively as she looked at her face in the glass.

Currently, Veronica’s bathroom was filled with random crap she had acquired online; currently unusable, because she could barely enter the room.

And she has a walk-in closet. What is wrong with this girl?

But Veronica paid her rent in full and on time every month, which was more than Brooklyn could manage half the time, forcing her to grin and bear the clash between them.

If I would finally get this damned promotion, I could get my own place and get out of here with my trusted dog, Hunter. Then I could live in peace and quiet, Brooklyn thought.

Veronica wasn’t the only reason Brooklyn was upset. She was still seething at Ryan, her ex-fiancé, and as she leaned closer to the mirror to correct the mess she had made around her eyes, her jaw clenched.

Her reflection did not please her in the least: her blonde hair, although freshly washed and styled, seemed to have lost its usual luster as it hung without any real energy about her shoulders. Teal eyes stared back at her, now encircled in smeared black liner, but lacking the glimmer they had once possessed.

What did he do to me? Brooklyn wondered numbly. He’s aged me ten years in one.

She was still beautiful and young, though, her prime years ahead of her. At least her figure was still intact, and she hadn’t sprouted any wrinkles just yet. It wasn’t likely that she had developed into a decrepit hag at twenty-five, but she felt as if her ex-fiancé had somehow drained the life out of her in a relatively short period of time.

She had dodged a bullet, really. Ryan had cheated on her with a stripper named Elena. She was lucky she had walked away healthy and with whatever dignity she had managed to maintain, thanks to the support of a very caring circle of friends. She wasn’t someone who would continue enabling his bastard ways. Besides, her friends had ensured she wouldn’t go back to him.

Brooklyn wiped her eyes with a cloth and started her make-up again. At her side, the cell dinged, and she eyed it through her peripheral vision.

Be there in ten minutes, the text read, and she groaned inwardly.

How had so much time gone by? She had been getting ready for over an hour already, and yet she was nowhere closer to being ready than she had been after her shower. She didn’t have time to respond to Audrey’s text. What she needed was to hurry up and get ready.

It would be tacky of her to be late. After all, the girls had planned the evening on her behalf, and while she wanted nothing more than to rip off her too short dress and crawl back into bed, she forced herself to move forward.

No man is worth this, Brooklyn told herself, reapplying her liner and mascara as quickly as she could, willing the Advil to work its action to tame her headache. The pain had been incessant for days, a throbbing that felt like her brain was swelling in her skull cap. Surely Ryan was to blame for this, too. It was just one more reason for her to hate her ex.

Brooklyn stepped back from the mirror and examined herself with bleary eyes.

The club will be dark, she assured herself. No need to go overboard. It’s not like you’re out looking to get laid tonight.

She slipped into her bedroom, grabbing a pair of red stilettos to match her cherry red minidress, and stole down the stairs. If she had not been so consumed in her own misery, she would have realized that she looked stunning, red undoubtedly her best color.

Veronica instantly jumped into her bathroom, as if she had been waiting by her closed bedroom door for Brooklyn to move.

I have to do something about that girl, she thought with annoyance, but her attention was diverted by a honking outside. The limo had arrived.

Brooklyn quickly put on her shoes and threw open the front door as Hunter barked in protest.

“Oh!” she cried, turning toward her German Shepherd. “Sorry, baby boy. Come and give me a kiss.”

He lunged forward, nuzzling his face in her stomach, and Brooklyn couldn’t help but laugh as she lost her balance and fell backward. Again, the limo horn sounded, and Brooklyn waved impatiently to indicate she was coming.

“I have to go, boy,” she told him, rising to dust herself off. “Be good, all right?” He whined slightly but permitted her to leave, his brown eyes staring after her forlornly. It was all she could do not to rush back into the house and lock the door.

At least I have Hunter, she thought, closing the door behind her as she made her way down the steps.

“Hurry up!” Audrey yelled, poking her head out of the skylight. “We have dinner reservations to keep!”

“I’m coming!” she muttered. The limo driver opened the back to allow her in to meet her friends. The group whistled at her in appreciation as she slid inside and took her place on the white leather seats.

“You look like the whore of Babylon,” Maddy announced. and the other women hooted in agreement.

“Thank you,” Brooklyn demurred. “I wish I could return the compliment.”

“Ah, you see?” Audrey called. “She’s getting her sense of humor back!”

“My sense of humor was never lost,” Brooklyn sighed, accepting a glass of champagne from Stella as the limo pulled away from the curb. “It’s my pride I’m still looking for.”

“Screw Ryan Shilling,” Audrey growled, downing the rest of her goblet. “Screw all men!”

Brooklyn raised her glass and her eyebrow to her best friend, also swallowing a massive gulp.

Audrey is already drunk, she realized. She probably started drinking at home.

“Don’t worry about her,” Stella murmured, as if sensing Brooklyn’s thoughts. “If she gets sloppy, I’ll take her home. Don’t let her ruin your night.”

Brooklyn glanced gratefully at her. Audrey had been her one true friend through thick and thin, but there was no question that the girl was a lot to take. The running joke among them was that Audrey was an acquired taste.

They really did go out of their way to make this a good night for me, Brooklyn thought, glancing around at her half-dozen friends. I must have been more pathetic than I realized.

“I thought you were going to cancel tonight,” Maddy confessed as Stella refilled her glass.

“How could I refuse girls’ night in a limo?” Brooklyn protested, but as she spoke, she realized how many times she had blown off her circle of friends in the past month. Guilt filled her as she took another gulp, hoping her expression wasn’t evident.

“Well, that was our hope,” Maddy replied, closely studying Brooklyn’s face. “We figured, since you’d canceled on everything else, if we planned a big night out, you would be forced to come.”

Another stab of shame pierced Brooklyn’s heart, and she gazed at her hands.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I mean, the guy banged a stripper! And I’m the one wallowing in it!”

“We’ve all been there,” Stella told her reassuringly. “Don’t beat yourself up. You know that it’s his loss. I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes crawling back on his hands and knees.”

“Screw Ryan Shilling!” Audrey screamed again. “Screw all men!”

“Maybe not all men,” Christine piped up, a small smile on her pixie-like face, and the other women booed.

“Oh, shut up, Chris! No one wants to hear about your perfect relationship!” Audrey yelled. “You found the one man in the world who can keep his dick in his pants. Congratulations!”

“All right,” Brooklyn interrupted, her instinct telling her that Audrey was about to become obnoxious in her inebriated state. It wouldn’t be the first time, and like Stella had said, she couldn’t let her ruin her night. “Let’s agree not to discuss men tonight at all, okay?”

There was a cheer of approval, and the friends raised their glasses in toast.

“To enjoying each other’s company!” Maddy called.

“Hear, hear!” they chorused, everyone placing their glasses to their lips.

Brooklyn settled back against the seat and allowed the alcohol to take effect, her shoulders relaxing against the leather. For the first time in days, she noticed her headache subsiding.

Okay, she thought, inhaling deeply. I’m among my friends. This is good. I can move forward and forget about Ryan. He’s not worthy of my attention anymore.

She permitted a smile to fall onto her face as she exhaled slowly and opened her eyes. This was going to be a night to remember, and she would make sure of it.

The sleek white car stopped in front of La Tortuga, and the driver scrambled to open the door before Audrey could claw her way out. One after the other, the girls stepped out from the interior of the limo; Audrey first, pushing everyone aside, followed by Maddy, Stella, Christine, and Ava. Brooklyn was the last person to exit, and she straightened her dress over her shapely thighs, glancing with interest around the front of the restaurant.

It was her first visit to the swanky Mexican joint, and she was relishing the luxurious exterior. A string of red chili lights illuminated the palms lining the red carpet that led toward the glass doors.

On one side of the pristine entranceway, a tuxedoed doorman waited patiently for them to approach, a smile plastered on his face.

They can’t pay him nearly enough for this, Brooklyn thought, smiling to herself. No matter how bad I think my life is, he must hate smiling at drunk women all night and turning away people who aren’t on the list.

She immediately thought of her job at the pharmaceutical company and cringed. It wasn’t like she was living the life of glamour, either, but she pushed that thought aside. She was here to have fun, and she was determined to make the most out of this night.

“Come on,” Stella urged, linking her arm through Brooklyn’s. “Audrey’s already inside, and God knows what ruckus she’s causing.”

Brooklyn allowed herself to be led toward the restaurant, a serene smile on her lips. The champagne had successfully done its job, and she let the feeling of ease spread through her deliciously.

“I’m starving,” Stella commented, echoing Brooklyn’s own thoughts. She tried to remember the last time she had sat down for a real meal.

Since she and Ryan had split up, Brooklyn had eaten at her desk, in her bed, and over the kitchen sink, and the only things she had actually eaten for the past four weeks had been sandwiches, granola bars, and chips. This dinner would taste glorious compared to the measly snacks she had devoured.

The doorman nodded at them, and for a second, his plastic smile seemed genuine as his dark eyes raked over Brooklyn’s tall, lean frame in her crimson dress. It gave her a spurt of confidence, and Brooklyn raised her blonde head, meeting his eye. She winked coyly at him, causing a blush to stain his cheeks.

I’ve still got it, she thought confidently as they made their way into the restaurant. Audrey was complaining loudly as the hostess tried to maintain her patience with her.

“They’re coming! Just seat us!” Audrey growled. “They have eyes! They can figure out where we’re sitting!” She turned back and pointed at the late arrivals, grunting. “See? They’re right here! Can we sit now, please? I’m starving to death! The headlines will be terrible if I pass out on your floor!”

Brooklyn and Stella exchanged an amused glance as they were brought into the dining room.

“The food here is excellent,” Stella told her as they wove their way through the festive but dimly lit restaurant. “Have you been yet?”

Brooklyn shook her head, her eyes trailing along the luxurious setting. She couldn’t remember the last time she had treated herself to such a lovely outing.

I should do this more often, she told herself.

It seemed that the entire establishment was only brightened by candlelight and string bulbs in red and white. The effect was hypnotic; rhythmic Flamenco music pulsated through the speakers, quietly but full of bass. It almost made Brooklyn’s undulated hips swing while she walked, as if the acoustics gave her confidence.

“I mean, my stomach is going to curse me in the morning from all the spice,” Stella continued. “But it’s well worth it. Everything is made fresh, and…”

Stella’s voice filtered out of her head as Brooklyn’s eyes rested on a man dining alone, an entire booth to himself.

She wasn’t sure exactly what drew him to her. Perhaps it was the fact that, despite his towering frame, he seemed lost in the twenties-style booth as he sipped from a brandy sifter. Or maybe it was the powerful magnetism of his dark attractiveness.

What is he doing all alone? Some woman is missing out on the date of a lifetime, she thought ruefully. She wondered what it would be like to be sitting across from a man like that, and in her mind’s ear, she could somehow almost hear the sonorous tones of his voice, like he was in her head.

He seemed to feel her eyes on him, and he raised his eyes to rest on her face. When their gazes locked, Brooklyn felt her heart stop for a moment. Even from the distance between them, Brooklyn could see the glittering golds, greens, and browns in his irises. She was struck by a peculiar sense of déjà vu as she paused mid-step to hold his stare.

“Brooklyn?”

Stella had stopped to look back at her in surprise, and she felt herself blushing.

“Coming,” she said quickly, turning to follow Stella and the others to their booth—not before she cast one final look to the dark-haired man dining alone, though. He continued to stare at her, and Brooklyn found herself smiling at him, but he only gazed after her with a perfectly stoic expression on his face until she could no longer see him.

“What are you grinning at?” Audrey yelled, and Brooklyn shifted her eyes toward her half-drunk friend, who was seated in the middle of the booth, surrounded by the other women. She hurried forward to join the table, feeling embarrassed that he had been caught staring at a stranger as she slipped into the end spot.

“I’m sorry,” Stella murmured in her ear, and Brooklyn looked at her with a frown on her face.

“For what?” she asked. “This is perfect. I am already having a wonderful time. You guys are the best.”

“No need for sarcasm,” Stella retorted. “We couldn’t have known.”

Brooklyn’s brow furrowed even more in confusion.

“Known about what?” she asked. “I wasn’t being sarcastic.” Stella lowered her blue eyes and muttered something Brooklyn didn’t hear. “What?” she repeated, a sudden apprehension seizing her gut. Stella raised her blonde head and stared at her with concerned blue eyes.

“You didn’t see?” she whispered, and Brooklyn realized a hush had fallen over the table as everyone glanced worriedly at her.

“See what?” Brooklyn demanded, looking around. “What the hell is going on?”

But as the words escaped her lips, she saw exactly what had silenced her friends.

Ryan was sitting in the center of the restaurant upon the raised pedestal, his eyes fixated on Brooklyn. His mouth was pulled into a grimace of anger as he muttered something to his blonde date. Her head also jerked around to gape in Brooklyn’s direction, her expression growing into a sneer of malice.

Ryan was here with Elena, the woman with whom he had cheated on Brooklyn.

In all the restaurants in San Francisco, at all the possible times, on the first night I have felt strong enough to leave the house, Brooklyn thought. He has chosen this very night to come with the woman he cheated on me with! What are the chances of that happening? Why does the universe hate me?

A bottle of champagne was chilling tableside, and slowly, Brooklyn’s apprehension became a wave of bile as she studied the scene with more scrutiny. Her eyes met Ryan’s and he immediately lowered his gaze, reaching to cover Elena’s hand with his. But Brooklyn had still managed to see it.

No, she thought flatly. No, I did not see that. He wouldn’t be so cruel.

She knew, however, that her eyes weren’t lying to her.

Elena wore an engagement ring, and not any engagement ring. In fact, it was the same one he had given to Brooklyn and then taken back from her.