If You Only Knew
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A funny, frank and bittersweet look at sisters, marriage and moving on, from the New York Times bestselling author of the Blue Heron series
Letting go of her ex-husband is harder than wedding-dress designer Jenny Tate expected…especially since his new wife wants to be Jenny's new best friend. Needing closure, Jenny trades the Manhattan skyline for her hometown up the Hudson, where she'll start her own business and bask in her sister Rachel's picture-perfect family life…and maybe even find a little romance of her own with Leo, her downstairs neighbor, who's utterly irresistible and annoyingly distant at the same time.
Rachel's idyllic marriage, however, is imploding after she discovers what looks like her husband's infidelity. She always thought she'd walk away in this situation but now she's wavering, much to Jenny's surprise. Rachel points to their parents' perfect marriage as a shining example of patience and forgiveness; but to protect her sister, Jenny may have to tarnish that memory—and their relationship—and reveal a family secret she's been keeping since childhood.
Both Rachel and Jenny will have to come to terms with the past and the present, and find a way to help each other get what they want most of all.
gutters and hisses on the flagstones, Leo tells me the story he wanted to keep from me, a story I don’t want to hear—a woman, an ambulance, the shocked sobs of onlookers, the panicked shouts of the paramedics during their heroic—and futile—efforts to save a mother and her an unborn baby. As he tells the story, Leo isn’t exactly calm. He’s simply...gone. Finally, he clears his throat. “Loki was her dog,” he says. “She had him long before she had me.” He gives a half smile, but it doesn’t quite
to Rachel’s. I check my voice mail—two missed calls, both from Owen. Right. I was supposed to have dinner with him, but we never rescheduled. The thought of going into the city makes me tired. If he wants to see me, he can come up here. As I’m getting some clean underwear, I see the little pink clay dog Leo made when the girls stayed with me. It’s been on my bureau since that night. Without further thought, I go down to Leo’s. I glance through the window and see Austin, son of a Hungry Mom,
here for such nasty purposes. I try to get up, but she’s standing too close, and I don’t want to knock her over. “Mrs. Donovan! Hi.” I smile up at her, sort of, and squeeze her free hand. The other holds her cane and a huge quilted purse that looks like it could hold an eight-year-old child. “How are those beautiful girls of yours?” she asks. “They’re great,” I tell her. “Want to see a picture?” I pull out my phone, but she waves it away. “I hate those cell phone thingies,” she says. “Do you
attorney. But I still feel shy. And incredibly lucky, too. Adam takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over the railing. “Story time!” he announces, then scoops all three girls into his arms and carries them upstairs. Grace’s dark cloud has lifted, Charlotte is shrieking with delight and Rose has snuggled her head against his shoulder and waves to me. I pick up Adam’s jacket automatically and put it in the dry-cleaning bag in the hall closet, then go into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of
cheer, because I know she hates Adam these days. I appreciate that, too...the solidarity. “Feels like we’re playing hooky,” Adam says, and though I never did that before, I know what he means. Instead of ordering my usual boring white wine, I ask for a dirty martini, very dry, three olives. Adam raises an eyebrow. “Same for me,” he says. We don’t talk, just look around until the waiter brings our drinks. I take a big sip. Dear God, it’s disgusting. But I smile at Adam. “Let’s not talk about