Winter In August Read Online Free

t-shirt, black combat boots, and a black vest. The only time I didn’t see him in that outfit was when we went out together, and then he still wore all black. He said talking to me was easy, and he confided in me a lot. I asked him why his salon wasn’t named Sven’s and he said the salon was named after the love of his life of twenty-five years. Gino passed away from cancer and in his memory, Sven named the salon after him. He was a very private man, yet he liked to boast about his sex life to me as much as he could. He had a roaming eye and lately, a roaming penis.
    “Thanks, Sven.”
    “Rough night last night?” he whispered.
    “You could say that,” I whispered back, feeling sick thinking about where I was a few hours ago. The thought of his big fat ass sticking out of the covers made me want to gag. Then I realized thoughts of the blonde guy raced through my head also. He might be good-looking, but I assured myself he was boring in bed and an ass like all the rest. Most of those rich bastards cared about getting off and didn’t consider what a woman would want. I assured myself Blondie was as bad as Marco, if not worse. And why was I thinking about him? That situation was done and over, and I prayed I wouldn’t see either of them.
    “We’ll talk later. I have something to tell you. You aren’t going to believe who I met last night walking Reggie at the park. He rocked my world. Are you ready for Mrs. Spiegel?” I rolled my eyes at him.
    “Yes, bring her back,” I smiled, taking one last sip of the hot coffee, and thankful I didn’t have to listen to one of Sven’s sex stories so early in the morning.
    “Be extra nice. She caught her husband cheating and she’s been drinking this morning. On top of that, he was cheating with the nanny, and the nanny’s a guy. She’s ticked off, to say the least. Tab baby, send Gigi back,” Sven said into his headset.
    “And I thought I had problems,” I smiled.
    * * * * *
    I stayed in with Harper that evening, ordered organic take-out, and watched our favorite movies. I loved Moonstruck and could recite the entire movie by heart which drove Harper nuts. She, was stereotypically obsessed over the Notebook. I hated the movie but sat through the sappy crap for my best friend. Spending the night with Harper and doing what she wanted was the least I could do after abandoning her the night before. We fell asleep in Harper’s bed, and though I would not admit this truth to her, I did sleep better. Her bed was so soft and cozy, and her little candle type lights everywhere were relaxing. Perhaps she was right about my room and its effect on me.
    The next morning, I hesitantly helped her pack for another overseas trip, cooked breakfast, and promised to behave while she was gone. Harper always worried about me when she had to leave.
    While we were sitting in the living room drinking coffee and finishing up breakfast, she turned to me in her standard white turtleneck and jeans.
    “I’m worried about you, Gabby. Spending the night with Marco Fitzgerald has me concerned.” She grabbed my hand, and I flinched.
    “Stop Harper. You’re like a mother hen. Stop worrying.” I moved my hand, uncomfortable with anyone touching me. I nervously stood and walked to the kitchen to get more coffee.
    She jumped up and followed me. “I can’t stop worrying. I see so much good in you, Gabby. You need to be good to yourself.” We stood in the kitchen facing each other. I noticed the legitimate concern on her face.
    “I’m fine. Please, Harper. Don’t do this. I’ll let you know if there is something wrong.”
    “That’s the thing. You won’t until it’s too late, and I have to find you unconscious. I can’t go through that again and neither can you.”
    “Trust me this time when I say I have everything under control. That was five years ago and I won’t ever let that happen again.”
    “Text if you need to talk, Gabby. We can facetime or I’ll call. You seem to be a little