Same! IFacebook stalked you on my break. Accept my friend request, damn it. I’mgetting a complex.The wink that followed took away any tinge ofcreepiness the text could have held. Rebecca chuckled to herself, then openedFacebook, found the friend request, and accepted it. Deciding to do a littlestalking of her own, Rebecca scanned Zoe’s timeline, noted her friends, andscrolled through a few photos, but before she even realized she was doing it,she’d typed the name Spencer Thompson into the search bar.
She popped up instantly, not hard to find at all, and Rebeccaclicked. Her timeline was not private, which Rebecca knew wasn’t smart andwanted to mention something next time she saw her, but how? How could she letSpencer know she should change her settings without admitting she’d been to herpage?Hey, Spencer, I wasbeing a creeper and searched you out on Facebook and noticed your page isn’tset to Private. Don’t you know how many weirdos there are in the world thatmight photo stalk you?Yeah, there was no way. Instead, she tookadvantage of the openness and wandered.
Spencer was fairly active. Not ridiculously so. Not like somepeople. Not like Sherry, who posted endless photos of her children and thedetails of every single thing they did on any given day, from winning a soccergame to eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, complete with commentary. Itlooked like Spencer posted every week or two, and most of her photos were ofthings, not people, though there were a few exceptions. Lots of photos ofjewelry, it seemed. Rebecca wondered what that was about, rememberedoverhearing Spencer and Lucy talking about necklaces or something. There waswhat looked to be a family photo with Spencer, two people who were most likelyher parents, given how much she looked like the older woman, a woman who mustbe a sister, and a young man of maybe twenty-five. A brother, must be. Therewas no caption. Lots of photos of dogs of varying sizes, colors, breeds, noneof which seemed to be hers. And when Rebecca came across the photo of Spencerand another woman, it was as though her fingers suddenly had minds of their ownand wouldn’t let her scroll on past.
They stood in front of a pavilion. Maybe it was a picnic or anoutdoor party? The taller woman had her arm wrapped possessively aroundSpencer’s shoulders, the woman’s smile wide.
Martina Daniels, the tag said.
This had to be the fiancée.
Rebecca zoomed. She had dark hair cut in a veryprofessional-looking bob sort of style. Large brown eyes. She looked happy,standing there in black capris and a cream tank. She also looked…wealthy.Rebecca tilted her head, wondering why she thought that. Her clothes seemedfairly expensive. Her sandals definitely were. She glimmered with jewelry—aheavy gold watch, what looked to be diamond earrings, a gold chain with a charmon it that was slightly obscured by her collar and Rebecca couldn’t quite makeout. None of her jewelry looked like anything Spencer might have posted a photoof. That was something Rebecca noted right away. The other thing she noted wasSpencer’s smile. It was faint, more a ghost of a smile than anything else, anobligatory expression, something she maybe felt she was supposed to do.
“Oh, my God, McCall,” Rebecca said, loudly, and quickly clickedoff Facebook altogether. “What the hell are you doing? Stop it. Just. Stop.”
She tossed the phone onto the coffee table and out of easy reach.Shaking her head in irritation at herself, she picked the remote back up.Fly Away Homehad endedwhile she was stalking Spencer and about to stalk Spencer’s fiancée, so sheflicked quickly through channels until she found an episode ofSnapped.
“Perfect. Let’s watch overwhelmed women kill their spouses. Thatoughta cheer me right up.”
I amofficially ridiculous.
WhenSnappedfailed to lasso all of her attention, she stretched for the phone and textedZoe again, who texted back immediately.
I need adrink. Meet me?
“Yes,” Rebecca said with relief.
Something else—someoneelse—to focus on was the perfect solution.
Chapter Eleven
“Hey, you,” Spencer said as she swiped her membership card throughthe card reader at the front desk of BodyFit.
Lucy looked up and her perpetual grin grew wider. “Hi, Spence. How’slife?”
Spencer parked a hand on her hip and slumped to one side.“Seriously, are you ever not crazy cheerful and happy?”
Lucy made a thinking face, then said, “Yeah, not really.”
Spencer grinned at her. “The world needs more people like you.Hey, I have something to show you.” She set down her bag, opened her purse, andtook out a baggie filled with colorful beads. The bag flat on the counter,Spencer ran her hand over it so the beads were in a single layer. “I found someof these in packages I already had, and a few I bought because I thought theymight work. See anything you like?”
Lucy ran her fingers over the beads, a soft “ooh” coming from herlips. “I like this one. And this one. This one here is very close to the colorof the bridesmaids’ gowns.” She rested a fingertip on a rich mauve-coloredbead.
“What are we looking at?”
Rebecca’s voice was so close to Spencer, she gasped, then gave asoft chuckle. “You startled me,” she said, glancing over her shoulder intothose deep blue eyes.
“Sorry,” Rebecca said and started to step away.
Spencer’s guilt hit instantly, and she grasped Rebecca’s wrist,tried not to notice the warmth, the softness. “No, no, it’s okay. Stay.”
Rebecca held her gaze for a delicious moment before moving herattention to the baggie. Spencer held on for a second or two longer thannecessary, then let her grip slide away and felt unexpectedly sad about it.
“Spencer is making me necklaces,” Lucy said, her voice bright, buther eyes focused on Spencer.
“Oh, yeah? You make jewelry?” Rebecca seemed honestly interested.
“I dabble,” Spencer added with a shrug. Rebecca was still standingclose. Spencer liked it, liked feeling her body heat, liked the sweet scent shegave off that Spencer couldn’t pinpoint.
