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coming to live with me and Kimberly.”
    “ Better off? Are you kidding? You’ve been a lousy father.”
    “Maybe you’re a lousy mother. There is a nasty rumor circulating that you may not be a fit parent. What with your alcohol problem.”
    Her gut reaction was to snatch the butter knife off the counter and drive it repeatedly into his back. Then she considered the hassle it would be disposing of a two-hundred-pound corpse and changed her mind. Instead she put the knife back in the drawer and the lunch meat in the refrigerator. “Get out.”
    “Did I mention I won’t be able to take Lacey out next week, either?” Jeff said. “I’m taking Kimberly to Hawaii for a few days.”
    He knew Sydney loved Hawaii. But if it meant never having to look at his arrogant face, she could live without their annual trip.
    “We’re going to the Virgin Islands next month,” he added, and she clenched her teeth.
    “What are you trying to do?” she asked. “Subdue her with jet lag?”
    “Jealousy is so unattractive, Sydney.”
    She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m just curious to see how long it takes her to drain you and move on to her next victim.”
    His smug laugh echoed in her ears with the grating effect of nails on a chalkboard. “The only place she’s draining me is in the bedroom. You can think about that while you’re standing in the unemployment line.”
    Bastard. She should have used the butter knife when she had the chance.
    “While you’re here, the air-conditioning is acting up again,” she told him and watched the smile disappear from his face. It frosted him that as part of the divorce settlement, not only did he have to buy her a house, but he was responsible for any maintenance and repairs as long as Lacey was a minor. One of the many benefits of having a shark for an attorney.
    “I’ll call someone next week.”
    “We can do this through our lawyers if you’d prefer.”
    Tight-lipped, he said, “I’ll call today.”
    “Good. Now get the hell out of my house.”
    Lunch forgotten, Jeff grabbed his suit jacket and slung it over his shoulder and strode out the side door. He slammed it with such force her newly patched wall shook. She watched as the spackling came loose, fell away and landed with a splat on the floor.

    L ACEY SLIPPED DOWN THE HALL and into her room before her parents could see her. No way in a million years would she go live with her father and his bimbo. Lacey hated Kimberly almost as much as she hated her father. The first and only time he’d taken them both out to dinner, Kimberly had looked at Lacey as if she were a bug she intended to squash. Her dad even had the nerve to suggest that his perfect little Kimberly could take her shopping for some decent clothes and teach her how to apply makeup correctly.
    “Why, so I can look like a slut?” she had asked, and her father went ballistic. Now he only took her out on nights when the bimbo had class. She was learning French, or something lame like that. Lacey would run away from home and live in a Dumpster before she let some pasty-faced old judge tell her she had to go live with them.
    She picked up the phone, dialing Shane’s cell number.
    “Yo,” he answered, music blaring into her ear.
    “Come get me,” she whispered.
    “Lacey? Is that you?” he yelled.
    “Yes, it’s me!” she hissed. “Turn down the music.”
    The music faded into the background. “Why are you whispering?”
    “Come pick me up. I have to get out of here.”
    He hesitated. “But I just dropped you off, like, two minutes ago.”
    “I don’t care! Come and get me, but park down at the corner. I’ll meet you.”
    He let out a loud sigh. “Fine. I’ll be right there.”
    She hung up and walked over to her bedroom door, peeking out into the hall. She could hear her mom in the kitchen, banging things around. She always did that when she was mad. And she’d been mad a lot lately.
    Lacey crept back down the hall and out the front door, so