Absolutely, Positively Read Online Free Page A

heard he was a minister. Is that karma? Or predestination?”
    I couldn’t help but smile. Okay, sometimes Preston was tolerable. Actually, these days, she was more tolerable than not. Not that I’d ever tell her.
    “Do you really believe in it?” Meaghan asked me. “Karma? Kismet?”
    “Absolutely.”
    “I was fifteen,” she said. “My first love. His name was Tristan Rourke. I want you to find him, Ms. Valentine.”
    “It’s Lucy, please. How long has it been since you’ve seen Tristan?” As I jotted the name down on a legal pad, I surreptitiously slid my gaze across my watch. I was hoping Sean would make it back in time to sit in on this meeting. He must have found a place he liked. I could easily imagine him making an offer on the spot. He was impulsive like that.
    As it was, he and Thoreau, his Yorkie, had been living with Sean’s brother, Sam, and his family for a few months. It wasn’t until last week when Sam very unsubtly hinted that Sean and a suddenly leaky Thoreau might have worn out their welcome.
    Sean had nowhere else to go but out on his own, no other family I knew of. He didn’t like to talk about his past much at all. Something I was more than willing to overlook before now, as I had kept a lot of my past secret from him at first, too. But eventually, I’d told him everything—Cupid, curses, and auras, oh my—and I was still wondering when he’d open up.
    My palms dampened at the thought of Sean finding a place. Because as much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I’d love to have him live with me. Leaky dog and all.
    But underneath all the want, the desire, lurked the fear. That if we moved in together the more time we’d spend together, the faster we’d end. And I didn’t want it to end. Ever.
    I tipped an ear to the door, hoping to hear activity in the outer office. Mum and Dovie were chatting, but so far there was no sign of Sean’s return.
    My dad, Oscar, the oft-proclaimed King of Love, was at a lunch meeting, which might mean he was really in a meeting or could mean he was rendezvousing with his latest girlfriend, Sabrina McCutchan—Cutter’s mother.
    Valentine’s Day had come and gone last week, and Dad’s schedule had cleared considerably. He was taking more and more time off, which he claimed was good for his damaged heart, but I suspected it had more to do with his libido. I envied other children who didn’t think of, or see, their parents in such a way. To say I’d been raised unconventionally would be an understatement.
    “Let’s see. It’s been about eight years,” Meaghan finally said.
    “High school sweethearts?”
    “Kind of. We lived in the same house for a while. Foster children.”
    I saw Preston’s eyes brighten. She loved a good twist to a story, and a hook like that was gold for a human-interest piece.
    Leaning back in my chair, I pulled my notepad onto my lap. Meaghan twisted her hands, and the edges of her cuffs slid up her forearm. Unmistakable scars crossed both wrists.
    She caught me looking. “I was young and wanted desperately to die. The doctors wanted desperately to save me. They won.”
    I rested the tip of my pen on the notepad. The ink bled into a widening circle. “You obviously came around to their way of thinking.”
    The sparkle was back in her eyes. “Thank goodness. Tristan was a big motivator, though ultimately the strength came from within.”
    The line sounded like something out of a therapist’s mouth, but I couldn’t deny Meaghan seemed happy. She fairly oozed joy.
    “Did Tristan help you through recovery?” Preston asked. “Stay by your bedside and all that?”
    Meaghan’s lips tipped into a small smile. “Actually, no. He wasn’t allowed to see me. I was placed in a psych hospital, pumped full of meds, and overwhelmed with feel-good lectures that only turned me from suicidal to homicidal.” She laughed.
    I hoped she was joking. In my other job with the state police I saw more than my share of