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her going as white as the diet pills she popped, and nearly choking on her own revulsion. Not that it was ever going to happen. She was a beady-eyed barracuda beneath the facade of perfect manners and designer clothing. But just once he wanted to see his mother fall to pieces. He could hardly imagine anything better.
    Sad, Bret, sad. How old are you now? Twenty-five going on two?
    He yawned and stretched, deeply encased in the belly of the backyard hammock. As he gazed up at the boughs of the giant sycamore overhead, boredom burned through him. Lethargy had its own special kind of ache. He’d been lying around all morning in a T-shirt and swim trunks, sipping iced lattes, and he had no plans to do anything else.
    He knew how she hated sloth.
    And speaking of Julia Fairmont, where was the prize bitch?
    You’re a sick man, Bret. A sad, sick man. Why the hell do you hate her so much? She’s never done anything to you….
    But when he closed his eyes he could see the disdain that hardened her beautiful face when she looked at him. It never left him, that look.
    Except wish you didn’t exist. That’s all she’s ever done.
    His laughter tasted like an old ashtray. It didn’t hurt anymore when she blew him off. He felt nothing. Maybe deep down there was a vestigial flicker of outrage, but on the surface, he was as cold and bitter as she was. He didn’t give a fuck what she thought. Why should he?
    “Bret! Where are you?”
    That was her, probably calling him from one of the balconies. Her shrill voice made him flinch. He hadn’t done that since he was a kid. Her tone told him she was pissed, but he’d expected that. He’d missed the job interview she’d arranged for him this morning, blown it off totally.
    “Bret? Why don’t you answer me?”
    He saw her coming, striding across the rolling green lawn in her crisp capris, sleeveless blouse and bejeweled sandals. He threw an arm over his eyes, pretending to be asleep, though he still could see her.
    Apparently his silence got to her, because when she reached him, she did something totally unexpected. She grabbed the edge of the hammock with both hands and upended it, dumping him onto the ground.
    He hit with a thud. “Hey! What the fuck? I’m never going to get these grass stains out of my trunks, Mom. ”
    She held up the letter in her hand. “I have important news, and it concerns you.”
    “You’re dying, and I’m going to inherit everything?” He stood up and brushed himself off.
    “Don’t be an ass,” she said. “Your sister’s coming to visit, and I need you to help me get ready.”
    Her voice was shrill. It was shaking, but she wasn’t angry. She was nervous, he realized. Shit, this was a dream come true. Julia Fairmont was cracking.
    As he stood there, taking in his mother’s agitation, it dawned on him what she’d said. “Alison? She’s coming here?”
    “Yes, and I want to do something really special. I didn’t think she’d accept my invitation, or that he’d let her come. This is my chance to win her back, Bret.”
    Bret’s legs went weak. He felt sick to his stomach, but somehow he managed to speak. “She’s married, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
    “He stole her. You know that as well as I do.”
    “Stole her? She walked away from a damn fortune to be with him. What don’t you get about that? She chose Andrew.”
    Julia’s expression was glacial. “He’s coming with her, and if you won’t help me get ready for their visit, you will at least be here. I just spoke with Andrew on the phone, and he assured me that she’s anxious to see you.”
    It could not possibly be true that Alison was anxious to see him, but Julia had reverted to her polite mode, and Bret played along, even though inside he was still queasy enough to vomit.
    “So, I assume she’s recovered?” he said.
    Unconsciously, Julia used her thumb to center the large emerald-and-diamond wedding ring set she never took off, even though her husband had been dead for