The Sapphire Affair (Jewel #1)

They had a standing afternoon get-together every Monday and Thursday. Her mother was strong and didn’t like to let on how lonely she’d been since her divorce from Steph’s stepfather two years ago after nearly two decades of marriage and raising her two kids with him. But the twice-a-week meetings told Steph that yoga classes and a return to work hadn’t filled the void yet. Steph felt that void, too, though she’d never admit that to her mom. She missed the now-defunct holiday get-togethers, the occasional picnics at the beach, and especially the times when the three of them would grab lunch together at an outdoor café and she’d share stories from her adventure trips.

“Slather yourself more,” her mother said, issuing it like a clean-your-room instruction, even though Steph was twenty-eight and had long since outgrown such directives. Besides, her room was quite neat, thank you very much. Her whole condo was. Kicking out her ex had done wonders for the cleanliness level of her place. The man had been a slob, but all things considered, that was one of the nicest things she could say about Duke.

“I will,” Steph said, even though she probably wouldn’t, but her mom liked to keep busy, and busy meant doling out parental advice, so Steph went along with it.

As her mom brought the glass to her lips, she tipped her forehead to the sidewalk. “Incoming hotness at two p.m.,” her mom whispered out of the corner of her lips.

“Mom,” Steph admonished.

“Not for me. For you. You deserve a little fun. Look,” she urged.

Steph shook her head but took the bait, because hotness was hard to resist checking out. She followed her mom’s gaze and nearly murmured her approval out loud when her eyes landed on a tall, trim, and dark-haired man in tan slacks, a crisp white button-down, and aviator shades. His jaw was chiseled, dusted with the perfect amount of stubble, and his lips looked oh-so-kissable.

Kissing. Hmm. What was that? Just a hazy blur. Steph had to reach far back in the mental files to remember.

“Whoa,” she whispered under her breath.

“Talk to him,” her mom said in a quiet voice, nudging Steph with an elbow. “He probably likes you, too.”

OK, time to nip this one in the bud. No matter how smoking hot he was, nor how long it had been since Steph’s body had been held against the opposite sex, she was not going to proposition a stranger walking down the street. She lowered her shades and turned to her mom.

“Yes, he’s hot. But let’s break this down. One, he doesn’t like me. He doesn’t know me. He’s walking down the street. That’s not an indication of his interest in me. That’s a sign of his direction. He probably has a meeting that way,” she said, waving her arm in the direction of the gorgeous businessman. “And two, even if he had been checking me out, which he was not, I’m not going to go race after some guy on the street and say, ‘Hi, you’re cute, want to go out?’ And three, I have no time in my life for men. And four, hello! Have you forgotten? Men are trouble.”

Her mom laughed loudly, with her straight, white teeth showing. It was nice to see her smile. “Fine, the last one might be true,” her mom said. “But don’t you think it’s time you ended the moratorium? It’s been a year.” She dropped a hand on Steph’s arm, squeezing gently.

More like two years, three months, and nine days.

“And it’s taken that long to erase the damage Duke did,” Steph said, then softened her gaze. “Thanks to you. None of what I’ve accomplished would have been possible without your help.”

Her mom waved a hand in the air, as if to say it was nothing. When, in fact, her mom’s wisdom, insight, and savvy had been everything. She’d saved Steph’s business from near ruin when Duke had slammed her professional reputation online after their breakup. “You know I’d do anything for you. Including encourage you to pick up hot men on the street,” she said with a wink, then gestured to the throngs of tourists and locals streaming by. “Let’s people watch.”

One of Steph’s favorite pastimes. As they sipped their beverages, they made up wild tales about the crazy getups they saw, from a man in spangly silver shorts to a woman with only a painted-on bikini—literally, it was made of paint. When the bill came, her mother grabbed it quickly.

“Mom, it’s my treat,” Steph said, trying to snatch it away, wanting to help out her mom.

Her mother held the check high in the air. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“Please,” she said, adopting a puppy smile and wide eyes. She wasn’t privy to the full state of her mother’s finances, but she knew they’d changed drastically since the split. After years of mostly being a stay-at-home parent, she’d returned to selling jewelry at craft fairs. Spending money, her mom had called it. Lack of alimony was another term that worked. Royally screwed fit, too.

Her mother shook her head and held the bill far out of reach. “It’s all mine. I had a good week at my table at the Miami Beach fair.”

“Next time it’s on me. I insist,” Steph said, since her business was growing again.