One

      Throwing up three mornings in a row wasn’t unheard-of for an O’Malley. After all, they were a family known to live life to the fullest, and that often involved excess. But Scarlet hadn’t been drinking for weeks, ever since her best friend, Siobahn Murphy, lead singer for the hottest girl group since Destiny’s Child, had broken up with her fiancé and he’d immediately eloped to Vegas with Siobahn’s main rival. The paparazzi had been on Siobahn 24/7, and Scarlet had wanted to keep her wits about her to help protect her friend. She’d had her own experiences being hounded by the press, and wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

      Now Siobahn was safely ensconced in the guest room of Scarlet’s East Hampton cottage, being watched over by Billie, Scarlet’s personal assistant.

      As Scarlet splashed water on her face, she went through all the reasons she might be throwing up. Food poisoning wasn’t the issue. No one else staying here had been sick and her personal chef, Lourdes, was pretty scrupulous about kitchen hygiene.

      “Not food poisoning,” she muttered aloud as she wiped her face with a muslin cloth recommended by her aesthetician. At twenty-eight, she didn’t have many fine lines or signs of aging, but still, her mother had always said it was never too late to take steps to prevent them.

       You’re distracting yourself from the obvious.

      Scarlet looked in the mirror, knowing the voice was in her mind and that she was alone. She’d lost her sister three years ago to a drug overdose, but that hadn’t stopped Scarlet from still hearing her voice at odd moments. Usually when she least wanted to hear it.

      Tara had been a bossy older sister and apparently didn’t want to stop giving her orders. Scarlet sighed and stared down at her stomach. She hadn’t had a period in over six weeks even though she’d always been regular as clockwork.

       Yup, you’re preggers. Wish I was still there to see the old man’s face when he hears the news.

      “Shut up, Tay. I’m not even sure yet.” Scarlet couldn’t believe she was talking to herself, and that she was even in this situation to begin with.

      If there was one thing the O’Malleys were good at, it was making money, living life full on and making colossally bad decisions. It went all the way back to her mother, who’d died when Scarlet was seventeen. Dying under mysterious circumstances that had been concluded an accident but many believed might have been more deliberate. Her father was on his sixth wife, and that didn’t count the mistresses he’d had in between and often during those liaisons. Scarlet’s longest relationship to date was twelve days, and honestly, she knew that was because they’d been on her private island and Leon’s private plane couldn’t land because of high winds.

      She couldn’t be pregnant.

      If she was...

      God, this was a nightmare.

      She knew the responsible thing would be to give the child up. Everyone said she was spoiled, and she took it as a compliment. Her goal had always been to live her best life.

      But a kid?

      She had a few acquaintances who had children but they tended to employ an army of nannies to care for them. Her own childhood had shown her how alienating that could be.

      She walked into her bedroom and fell back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling that she’d had painted to resemble the night sky. As she looked up at the “stars,” Lulu, her miniature dachshund, bounded up the ramp that Scarlet kept next to the bed and hopped on her stomach. She petted her sweet little dog as she lay there trying to ignore the inevitable.

       What about the dad?

      Tara’s voice again.

       The dad?

      That’s right... Mauricio Velasquez. Texan Humanitarian of the Year. Other than drinking too much with her and hooking up for one night, he was pretty rock solid. And he’d told her about his large family and how close they all were.

      She put her hand on her stomach again. Mauricio might be the best chance this baby had...if there was one. She’d have Billie get Dr. Patel to drop by later on today. If she was pregnant, she’d book a trip for herself, Billie and Siobahn to Cole’s Hill. The tiny town might be the perfect place for Siobahn to recover from her breakup while Scarlet checked out her baby daddy.

      Four hours later she was sitting on the couch across from Billie and Siobahn, who were both staring at her as if she’d lost her ever-loving mind. To be fair, she might have.

      “Texas?” Siobahn asked again. “No way. That’s the last place I want to be chased by paparazzi.”

      “Precisely my point,” Scarlet reminded her friend. “They won’t follow you there. It’s the perfect move. I rented a house this morning in something called the Five Families neighborhood, which has a manned security gate. We’ll have plenty of privacy.”

      “But why Texas?” Billie asked. “I mean, I don’t mind going, but it’s hot in Texas in July.”

      Not as hot as it was going to be when she found Mauricio Velasquez. Dang, but the two of them had burned up the sheets during their one night together.

      “I need to see someone there, and we could all use a break,” Scarlet said. “Trust me. It will be fun, and Siobahn, you’ll forget all about Maté.”

      “I already have,” her friend said.

      “Liar,” Scarlet said in a kind tone. She walked over and sat down on the arm of Siobahn’s chair and hugged her friend.

      “This will be good for both of us,” Scarlet promised.

      Siobahn looked up at her, and it broke Scarlet’s heart to see her usually bubbly friend’s sad, red-rimmed eyes. She would do whatever it took to distract Siobahn, and though she hadn’t mentioned it to her friend, Scarlet knew that this pregnancy was going to be a distraction for both of them.

      Dr. Patel had confirmed it—she was going to have a child. Scarlet was still reeling from the news but she’d always been the kind of girl who dealt with things by getting busy and moving. She couldn’t stay in New York City or the Hamptons. She had to see Mauricio again and then she’d figure out this entire baby thing.

      If there was one thing the O’Malleys were bad at it was taking care of someone else.

      A baby.

      She had always wanted someone of her own to love, but she had promised herself that she’d never have kids. She’d seen firsthand what happened when the wrong sort of people had kids. And she had never been anyone’s idea of a “good girl.”

      She