Chapter 16Anne applied the last of the pale gray eyeshadow and looked at herself in the mirror. Years of modeling had taught her well how to hide distress, exhaustion, and abuse. Putting her makeup back in the top drawer of her vanity table, she told herself she was hiding her turmoil, and nothing more. No matter that her long black hair was brushed to a sheen, catching and reflecting the light, no matter that she had put on her finest pale blue silk blouse, no matter the jeans she wore showed off her legs better than any mini-skirt.
She thought of Nick MontPierre. He would be in her apartment in a half hour and Anne felt, in spite of herself, an excitement she hadn’t experienced since her dating days back in college; she also felt a kind of dread. Nick had told her over the phone he had
