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claimed. So Stephanie never had any dates out with him in public, except at a handful of little restaurants that had become their regular secret spots.
    His in-laws were a constant presence and kept him on a tight leash. Jim was always terrified they—or perhaps his political enemies—were having him watched. Whenever Stephanie sensed that paranoia in him, it made everything seem so ugly and sordid. What drove her crazy was that absolutely no one was getting hurt by their relationship—no one except her.
    â€œYou’re there for him,” Rebecca had said. “But he’s never really there for you.”
    In the wake of her suicide, Rebecca’s prophecy was fulfilled. Stephanie realized Jim had a tough time fitting her sister’s death into his busy schedule. To his credit, he’d managed to drive by Stephanie’s house to console her for forty-five minutes before she’d taken off to New York for her sister’s funeral. He’d given her a blooming plant with a sympathy card, and arranged for a limo to take her to the airport. During the cross-country flight, she kept thinking, If only he’d driven me to the airport himself, it might have made a difference. Instead, he’d just stuck her in the limo and waved a somber good-bye.
    Of course, she never voiced her disappointment to him. She didn’t make any demands or issue any ultimatums. With Rebecca gone, she couldn’t risk losing anyone else who was important to her.
    Stephanie remembered the argument she’d had with Scott on the phone after finding out about his hasty marriage to Halle. “Know what I think?” he’d retorted at one point. “I think you’re jealous. Makes sense you’d jump all over my ass for not taking a long enough ‘grieving period.’ Tell me, how long has your congressman-boyfriend been grieving for his dead wife? Almost three years, right? Is that how long I’m supposed to wait, Steffi? Am I supposed to string Halle along for another two years—the way Jim’s been stringing you along? I don’t think Halle would stand for it. I’m sorry, but not everyone is as big a chump as you are, Steffi.”
    As she watched her heart rate go up to 120 on the elliptical machine, Stephanie told herself not to expect a call from Jim tonight. He was with his family. “As far as they’re concerned, you don’t exist.” Here she had this revelation about her sister’s suicide, and she couldn’t tell the one person closest to her—not until he called her.
    Scott was right, damn him. She was a chump.
    Looking up, she glimpsed the silhouette of a tall man at the double doors leading to the pool area. He stood in the doorway for a moment.
    Stephanie realized she was staring. She glanced up and feigned interest in the E! Channel. Then out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the doors closing. One of them kept swinging back and forth on its own. She didn’t see the man. Had he gone? Or had he ducked into the pool area?
    Stephanie’s heart rate reading on the machine shot up to 141. She stopped walking in place and tried to catch her breath.
    The pool area still looked deserted.
    She took off her headset. She didn’t hear anything past the E! Channel’s announcer. She told herself the man had retreated down the hotel corridor. Besides, even if he was somewhere in the shadows where she couldn’t see him, he was probably a paying guest of the hotel. He had every right to be there. What was wrong with her tonight? Why was she so on edge?
    Stepping off the apparatus, Stephanie moved over to the window to the pool area. She could see her slightly frightened reflection in the darkened glass. No one was in the swimming area. She was alone.
    With a sigh, she looked at her iPhone and switched over to call mode. Sometimes, when she was on the road, Jim would leave her a message at home—knowing she wasn’t there and