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  “Mom, please be reasonable. Shelly is so hot she stops traffic.”

  “Hallie is a very pretty girl, but more than that, she has a heart. She cares about people.”

  “Yes, she does.” He gave a little smile. “I just wish I could put Hallie’s heart in Shelly’s body.”

  His mother did not return his smile. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do—and I’m not asking for this. You are going to get up, shower and shave, then you’re going to negotiate, mediate, take it to the courtroom, whatever you have to do, to solve this for Hallie.”

  Braden opened his mouth to protest, but his mother kept talking.

  “And furthermore, you’re not going to charge her a penny for any of it.”

  He was looking at his mother’s face. It was the one she wore after she had repeatedly told him to pick up his toys and he still hadn’t done it. He didn’t know what would happen if he defied that look because he’d never dared to do it. “Yes” was all he managed to say.

  She gave a curt nod and got up. “I got your father’s brand of shampoo. Don’t use that fancy stuff of yours. It’s going to take work to get you clean.” She went into the kitchen.

  Rolling his eyes, Braden got off the couch and headed upstairs to the bathroom, all the while muttering, “Damn it, Hallie!” He dreaded the way she looked at him, with adoring eyes that begged him to say even one kind word to her. And his mother’s insinuation that he didn’t look out for Hallie was totally unfair! For all Hallie’s life, he’d looked after her.

  As he turned on the water, he couldn’t help smiling at the image of Shelly in her bikini. Yesterday half the neighborhood had turned out to see her bending over the flowers. Braden wasn’t sure what had happened this time between the stepsisters but he had no doubt that it was Shelly’s fault. She’d always been a conniving little brat, always planning something devious, usually with poor Hallie on the receiving end.

  The day he’d arrived home after Zara had—as his mother so inelegantly put it—“dumped” him, he’d guessed that Shelly was up to no good. She’d been in the kitchen with his mother, sweettalking her into lending Shelly a tea set and asking where she could buy some bakery items. It seemed that she had an important guest coming.

  At the time, Braden had been too miserable to show himself, but even through his deep unhappiness, he’d realized that something was amiss. For one thing, Shelly seemed to think men were put on the earth to do things for her, not the other way around. So why was she going to so much trouble for this one? When she told his mother the man’s name, only Braden had heard of the famous architect. Why in the world was that man visiting Shelly? he wondered.

  The last thing Braden wanted to do was get involved in whatever Shelly was up to, but he did think that Hallie should know what was going on. On the day the man was supposed to show up, Braden was rolling the garbage can to the curb when he saw Hallie rushing in and out of the house and putting things in the open trunk of her car. Maybe he shouldn’t have interfered, but he did. He walked across the road, meaning to warn her but dreading it. Instead, on impulse, he pulled an important-looking envelope out of her tote bag and slipped it behind the storm door. When Hallie got to where she was going and found it missing, maybe she’d have to return to get it. And maybe she’d find out what Shelly was up to.

  When Braden got out of the shower, he thought that, first, he should go over and visit Shelly. He’d hear her side of whatever it was that happened—but he dreaded all the drama. If Shelly didn’t look the way she did, no one would put up with her. On the other hand, he couldn’t help thinking of what Zara would say if he showed up at the office with a girl who looked like Shelly. When she was in heels, wouldn’t she be about six feet? Nice heels, and a suit. Maybe something in Chanel.

  The more he thought about the idea, the more he liked it. If whatever Shelly had done this time could possibly get her put in jail, she’d owe Braden for keeping her out.

  Two birds with one stone, he thought as he began to shave. Or was this I scratch your back, you scratch mine? Whatever it was, he looked forward to Zara’s face when she saw Shelly on his arm.

  When Hallie awoke, she looked at the clock. It was five minutes before two A.M. Time for Jamie’s nightly demon wrestling. As she got out of bed, she thought that when she had children she’d be prepared for sleepless nights.

  She’d put his nightlight in the bathroom so at least she could see him. Right on time, he began to thrash. She put her hands on his shoulders, but she wasn’t strong enough to hold him in place. Thinking of what they’d been told about the ghosts, maybe the name of his True Love would calm him down. Maybe his nightmares were because he missed her. But when she said the name “Valery,” Jamie’s rolling got worse. He began moaning, then threw his hands up as though to shield his face.

  “It’s me, Hallie,” she said loudly. “Remember? Hallie and Nantucket and working on your leg. And Todd. Don’t forget him.”

  Her words seemed to calm him, as he stopped thrashing, but he was still tense. Leaning over him, she smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “You’re safe now,” she whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

  When he’d settled, she started to step away, but his hand grabbed her bare leg. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, but then smiled. It looked like he wasn’t going to release her without his goodnight kiss.

  She took his face in her hands and kissed him. When it started to deepen and he began pulling her into bed with him, she stepped back and looked at him. With every minute of every day she liked him more—and she knew it wouldn’t take much for her to fall in love with him. But then what? When his leg healed would he go jetting off with a girl who looked like Shelly? Tall, gorgeous rich boys who spent their lives going from one pleasure to another didn’t commit to short, pudgy physical therapists. They had flings, then left.

  No, Hallie thought. She’d already given her heart to a man who couldn’t seem to see her as anything other than the kid across the street.

  Jamie was sleeping, so she could go back to her own bed. As she walked through the dark house, she considered the idea that the ghosts hadn’t appeared to her because she’d already met her True Love. She thought of Braden, of being around him as she was growing up. He was six years older than she and she’d adored him from afar. He’d always been…well, spectacular. A star athlete, top grades, king of the high school prom. He got into Harvard on a partial scholarship, made great grades, and was hired by a top law firm. A true Golden Boy.

  As Hallie got into bed, she thought of Braden as the man she most wanted—a sentiment encouraged by his mother. But she knew he had never seen her as anything but the kid who was always hanging around his house.

  Hallie saw him as smart and kind. Sometimes he’d come home from sports practice and she’d be in the kitchen with his mother, eating cookies, her eyes red from crying. “So what’d she do to you this time?” he’d ask as he grabbed a handful of cookies to take to his room. He knew that Shelly was always the cause of Hallie’s unhappiness.

  “Crashed my computer,” Hallie would say. Or, “Spent the money I was saving.” Or the most common one, “I can’t go so and so place because I have to help Shelly with something.” Braden—who had always known he wanted to be a lawyer—would say something like, “You want me to draw up a contract and send her off to work for the Snow Queen?”

  His questions and his funny “punishments” always drew her out of her misery. Over the years they’d worked to come up with things they could do to Shelly.

  “I’ll have her put into the body of an avatar,” he said once.

  “She’d never get used to being that short,” Hallie shot back.

  Braden had laughed, as avatars were over eleven feet tall.

  If Hallie had possibly already met her True Love, she was sure that had to be Braden.

  The next morning, her cell phone ringing woke Hallie. Sleepily, she answered it to hear Jared’s voice. “I’m sorry for calling so early, but I’m catching a p