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your
mother is. I'm wondering the same thing myself, because I don't know
how anyone could bear to let you go."

Caitlyn blinked back the annoying moisture in her eyes. "But I will let
you go, because you're not mine. You're someone else's baby, and I
won't forget that. You and me—we're not going to be friends. So
don't
get too comfortable, okay? In fact, you can call me Ms. Devereaux.
Caitlyn is only for close
family friends."

Emily gurgled a half smile and Caitlyn couldn't help but smile back.
"All right, you can call me Caitlyn, but that's as close as we're going
to get. And no matter how good-looking
or desperate your uncle is,
I will not let him talk me into any more
baby-sitting."

Caitlyn got herself and Emily out of the car. The baby squinted in the
morning sunlight, giving a coo of pleasure when the air hit her face.
It was a nice day, Caitlyn thought as she walked up the quiet street to
Devereaux's. San Francisco in the spring was usually cool and windy,
but today the breeze was mild and the clear blue sky dotted with only
an occasional puffy white cloud.

Her store was located in Cow Hollow, a neighborhood that had once been
rural. But today the streets resembled nothing close to a cow pasture.
The blocks were lined with old Victorian houses transformed into shops
and cafes along one of San Francisco's most popular shopping streets,
Union Street.

Caitlyn still couldn't quite believe she owned her own business. She'd
dreamed about designing wedding dresses since she was a little girl.
After getting a degree in fashion design, she had worked for several
clothing manufacturers, buf found herself doing more filing than
designing. Finally, a seamstress position with the wedding designer
known simply as Annabelle had opened up, and Caitlyn had spent the next
three years learning everything she could.

Although she'd enjoyed working for Annabelle, Caitlyn had longed for
the opportunity to create her own hne of dresses. That's when Jolie had
come in. Her cousin. Jolie Palmer, had caught her millionaire husband
in the back seat of their Mercedes with a floozy blonde and a pair of
pink panties in his hand. Jolie had gone on to divorce her husband and
divest him of a good deal of his income. Looking for a
new start, Jolie
had convinced Caitlyn that this was the perfect, time to starl their
own business, and
what better irony than to use her divorce money for a
wedding business.

Jolie was a big fan of irony and not at all romantic. She saw the
wedding business as a financial gold mine and figured she might as well
cash in on all those starry-eyed dreamers while they were still
starry-eyed.

Familiar with Caitlyn's lifelong dream, Jolie had suggested a retail
wedding shop with racks of gowns
from the top designers and a special
collection by Caitlyn. Touched by Jolie's incredible belief in her
talent, Caitlyn had jumped at the chance to do what she'd always wanted
to do, and together they'd opened Devereaux's.

Word of mouth, excellent service, and a booming trend in big weddings
had helped them turn a profit
the first year. Jolie's practical
business savvy and Caitlyn's romantic artistry had made a perfect
combination. They'd believed they were on their way—until the accident.

Caitlyn was beginning to realize that she could divide her life into
two sections, before the accident and after the accident, before Brian
and after Brian, before innocence and after regret.

Before the accident, she'd designed an entire spring collection and had
been ready to show it the following January. Then with the accident in
December everything had been put on hold. Not only would she not show
that collection, she would be unable to complete another design in all
the weeks and months that followed. She'd told herself it would happen;
she just needed to recover. But the days continued to pass, leaving her
with the helpless overwhelming sense that her dream was vanishing.

To her credit, Jolie tried not to nag. "There's always next