“J.J. replied, one hand reaching awkwardly for the foyer wall for a means of support.“J.J. is not in any state to go out,” Patrice declared tightly.“I can make my own decisions, thank you very much,” he told her amiably. “I’m going to head into the salon. Why don’t you all join me?”Sherry watched J.J. move into the gilded room at the southwest corner of the house. She’d made a mistake. Once again. Although at least this time she could console herself with the thought that she’d had no way of kno...wing J.J. wouldn’t be sober. Instead of relief, however, she felt annoyance and frustration. She wanted to unburden herself, and she wanted to do it now because she had a very serious fear that given enough time her craven heart would take over and she would chicken out entirely..Patrice Beckett had aged. Little wonder; they’d all aged. But the fire that had sustained her still burned. Sherry could practically feel its heat coming from the woman in waves of hate.Or was it fear?Patrice was in on this deception, too, Sherry reminded herself grimly.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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