Read It All Began in Monte Carlo for Free Online Page B

her silk-satin shift and stalked, head up, chin determinedly jutted, from the bar.
    Their eyes followed her.
    â€œPoor girl.”
    The comment came, unexpectedly, from Kitty Ratte. “It’s sad to be so deeply involved with a man who makes your life such hell.”
    Maha’s large dark eyes took her in first, then Sunny. “That girl has probably found out the truth about her fiancé, but it’s too late to back out. She has to go through with the marriage. She is looking at a lifetime of misery.”
    â€œOr a quick divorce,” Sunny said, not wanting to think about erring fiancés.
    â€œShe could always take a lover.” Kitty’s prominent buckteeth stuck out as her jaw dropped in a giggle. She flicked her hand to summon the waiter again. “You know, to lighten her burden.” She ordered another Red Bull, downed it quickly, then returned to the bottle of red wine.
    Sunny watched her glug the Red Bull. Perhaps she was drowning her sorrows too. Somehow though, the redhead didn’t look the type to be indulging in sorrow.
    Maha sat back in her elegant gray suede club chair, looking at Kitty. “I’m assuming you speak from experience?”
    Kitty lowered her chin, glancing demurely up from under her lashes. “Oh . . . not really . . . I mean I’ve heard it’s the best thing to do, the best way to catch a man.” Her small blue eyes disappeared in her cheeks as she laughed and said to Sunny, “Anyhow, it doesn’t leave me looking as sad as you do.”
    Shocked, Sunny sat up straighter. She was damned if she was going to show the world—well anyway, these women—that she was devastated. Her attention shifted as three more people came into the bar, two men and a tall woman with cropped dark hair, and winging brows over eyes so green Sunny noticed their color from across the room. She wore a simple black suit with a skirt just at the knee, obviously designer, and her only jewelry was a pair of large diamond studs.
    The two men with her were also very well dressed and to Sunny,used to “casually chic” California, very European in their pin-striped business suits, obviously custom-tailored.
    Sunny had been known to be a bit of a clotheshorse herself, when the mood struck, and she knew good shoes. The woman’s were Jimmy Choos, black satin laced around the ankle. Sunny had tried them on herself at Neiman’s. She also knew the men’s were handmade and, she would bet, Berluti. Standing at the entrance to the bar, the three emanated an air of money-no-object expensiveness. Confident. Cool. And kind of attractive in that very European way.
    They waved at the Indian woman, walked over and took seats at her table. Maha signaled the waiter for more champagne, more caviar. It came quickly and they raised their glasses in a toast. She glanced over at Sunny. “
Bon Noël,
Happy Christmas,” she said, smiling.
    â€œThe happiest,” the woman with the beautiful green eyes replied, in English. “For all of us.”
    Â 
    Sunny couldn’t stand it any longer, being here in a bar. Alone. It came to her in a flash. Her friend Allie Ray Perrin lived here in France. Miles away from the south, but still, she was here. In fact she and her husband Ron were good friends of both Sunny and Mac; they had been through a lot together, too much ever to forget.
    She dialed Allie’s number on her global BlackBerry and heard the odd beeping sound that was the French telephone “ring.” It beeped on and on. Could they have gone away for Christmas, perhaps to the mountains? Allie was an avid skier. She couldn’t bear it if she couldn’t talk to her.
    At last the ringing stopped and Allie’s familiar voice said they were unable to answer the phone right now but please leave a message and they would get right back.
    Sunny spoke quietly so no one would hear. “Allie, it’s Sunny. I’m