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are. Congratulations.” Ashley folded her in a hug. “I’m thrilled for you.”
    And she was. Truly. Both of her sisters were moving on with their lives, building families. She just wanted the same for herself. Someday. With a man who wasn’t proposing a “practical” engagement.
    Her sister held tight for a second before pulling back. “Okay, so?”
    “So what?”
    Starr picked up a newspaper on her bed stand and flopped it open. “Holy crap, kiddo, I can hardly believe my eyes. You slept with Matthew Landis?”
    “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She knew she wasn’t Matthew’s type, but it hurt hearing her sister’s incredulity. For that matter, why in the world would Matthew think the press would even believe an engagement announcement?
    “I’m simply surprised because it’s so sudden. I didn’t realize you two had known each other that long.” She folded the paper to cover the incriminating pictures. “Although given these, I guess you’ve been keeping a lot from me lately. I can’t believe you didn’t say anything when I brought the clothes to the hospital.” There was no missing the hurt in her tone.
    “I’m sorry and you’re right—about the not knowing each other part. You already heard or read most of what there is to tell.
    We’ve seen each other during the course of planning functions and smaller gatherings for his campaign. That night, was just…well…”
    “Spontaneously human?”
    “Neither one of us was doing much thinking.”
    “Well, I’m glad you’re all right.”
    “But?”
    “It’s such a tight race.” Her sister picked at a pile of sparkly painted T-shirts that looked designer made yet had been created by artsy Starr. “I’d hate for his opponent to get any kind of leg up at a time when even a few votes can make a difference.
    There are some important issues at stake—like Martin Stewart’s history in the state legislature and how he has hacked away funds that feed into the foster-care system.”
    Certainly discussion of the race had been bandied about among Beachcombers clientele with everyone weighing in. Ashley and her sisters had gotten behind Matthew early on given their strong stance on foster care. “That issue hits close to home, no question. But I’m sure the voters will see Martin Stewart for the phony snake he is by the time the campaign runs its course. The guy does the Potomac Two-Step changing his stance on issues so often he’s a prime candidate for Dancing With the Stars.”
    Starr’s packing slowed to a near halt. “I wish I could be so certain.”
    “I truly believe that. Remember when you worked after school in his office? It only took you a couple of months to quit that job. You said he was hell to work for. If you sensed that at seventeen surely older more mature voters will figure it out, too.”
    Starr resumed stacking piles in the box, quietly. Too quietly. Her sister never ran out of things to say.
    Ashley tried to catch her sister’s eye. “What’s wrong?”
    Starr pivoted on her heel, her eyes awash with pain—and anger. “I didn’t quit that job. I was fired.”
    “Oh my God, why?”
    “Because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”
    Whoa. The impact of Starr’s revelation set Ashley back a step. Then another until she sagged into a chair. “You were only seventeen. He must have been in his thirties then.”
    “Yeah, exactly.” Starr stalked around the room, dodging piles of clothes. “He fired me, and to top it off, just before that I had asked him to write a recommendation for me to get into that art school in Atlanta. Well, afterward, he made a call that ruined any chance I had at the scholarship.”
    “Starr, that’s horrible.” Ashley tried to hide her hurt that her sister hadn’t shared something so life critical with her before now, but her firebrand of a sister seemed suddenly fragile. Plus she didn’t want to upset a pregnant woman, so Ashley settled for, “I’m surprised Aunt Libby didn’t string him