Her Worst Mistake

Prologue

A Year Prior, Back Then
Las Vegas, Nevada

It had been a long week. Amelia Baker had traveled to Sin City with her closest friend, Rebecca Tatum, to take her mind off of a bad breakup with the latest in a string of lackluster boyfriends. Amelia had grieved the end of her romantic relationship over mixed drinks and mixed company, most notably during late-night trysts after demure Rebecca had turned in each evening. By week’s end, Amelia had bedded a handsome city slicker from New York City, a gritty motorcycle dude from rural Missouri, and-- most surprisingly, to her as much as anyone-- a sultry Vegas performer who wore little more than feathers to work each night and happened to be a woman.

Still in her thirties, Amelia was young enough to have a fit, attractive body that she could use to entice lovers, if she so chose. While in Vegas, she had dolled herself up for maximum effect, sparing no expense on her outfits, accessories, and makeup. She knew how to make herself look good by playing to her natural assets. Every detail of her appearance had been carefully cultivated-- tight-fitting tops to accentuate her slim figure and curvy chest, high-waisted jeans to make her ample backside swell at all the right angles, and low heels to highlight her shapely legs without adding too much height to her already tall 5’11” frame.

Amelia looked like a supermodel when she leaned into the swagger and strutted her stuff down Las Vegas Boulevard. It had worked like a charm. She had turned heads everywhere she went, and that was saying something given the plethora of beautiful women in the popular desert oasis. Amelia’s deep chestnut-colored hair danced around her strong, yet delicate shoulders like a dark silky mane when she moved. She wore her locks long, the bottom strands brushing her perky breasts and teasing the men-- and women-- wishing for a glimpse of what lies underneath.

Fun didn’t begin to describe the glitzy, sensuous nights Amelia had enjoyed. Dressing up in barely-there clothes and going out to party under the bright lights of the famous Las Vegas Strip had made her feel desirable, which in turn, gave her a sense of control over her life. She knew it wasn’t real, but in the moment, that didn’t matter. Locking eyes with a sexy stranger then negotiating the unspoken agreement to take each other’s pain away was as addictive as any drug.

Sweet and innocent Rebecca had warned Amelia about partying too hard and getting herself in trouble. Rebecca was a sensible soul, married to a cop back home in Rosemary Run and content to devote herself to being a wife and corporate career woman. She wouldn’t be caught dead conducting herself like Amelia. It wasn’t that she looked down on her friend, but rather that she simply had different sensibilities. Rebecca’s idea of a good time involved things like game nights, bowling, and maybe a late-night movie or a day trip out of town if she was feeling adventurous. She wasn’t a party girl. She didn’t want to be.

Amelia kicked herself for having brought Rebecca to Las Vegas. She loved and admired her friend, but the pair were on totally different wavelengths about this sort of thing. Amelia had thought it would be fun to sit by the pool with Rebecca and try out a few of the great restaurants in the area, but she should have known herself well enough to realize she’d want more. She’d need more. Amelia had serious issues to work out. Not to mention, she had serious demons to entertain. Rebecca existed in a different world. One that didn’t shy from the light of day or the honest truth. The two could never, ever overlap. Not really.

As the trip drew to a close, Amelia had begun to feel regretful and disenchanted with life. It had been frustrating to know that for all of the fun she’d had, nothing lasting would come of it. There would be no relief from her tired routine. She’d soon have to return home to Rosemary Run and her perpetually exhausting job as a pediatric nurse. The thought of wearing frumpy scrubs all day with her hair pulled back in an unimaginative bun while patients flung bodily fluids had been the last thing she’d wanted to focus on, yet the reality had forced its way to the forefront of her mind. No more glam outfits or sexy strangers to appreciate them. Her flight would leave in less than twenty-four hours.

Amelia sighed heavily as she sipped a cocktail at the hotel bar, absentmindedly stirring the festive, colored liquid and watching it slosh in her glass. She was itching for something. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around what or put words to the emotions that coursed through her, but she felt the discontent deep in her bones. She had hoped that her time in Vegas would make things better. She’d dreamed of divine intervention. Or something of the sort. Luck, maybe. Serendipity. She’d wished for the kind of self discovery Elizabeth Gilbert wrote about in Eat Pray Love or the kind Cheryl Strayed found on the Pacific Coast Trail as described in Wild. The kind that is almost forced upon a person, if they just show up and remain open to whatever the Universe wants to dish their way.

Now time was running short and nothing, it seemed, would turn out like she’d hoped. Soon, Amelia would have to admit to herself that the trip was a bust. Nothing life-changing had happened. Not really.

And then, a breath of fresh air on a sad, tired day, he walked in.

If Amelia had known the havoc this man would wreak in her life, maybe she would have ignored him and walked away. She should have walked away. In fact, she should have run away. She should have thrown cash down on the bar to pay for her drink, then slinked out the back before he could notice her. She should have returned to her hotel room and packed her bags alongside Rebecca. She should have blocked out everything except getting on the airplane and flying home.

Unfortunately, she did none of those things. Against her better judgement, she let herself fall into depths the likes of which she had never seen before.


Chapter One

Present Day
Rosemary Run, California

“He wants me to go away with him,” Amelia said to Rebecca as they lounged on the cushy blue sofa together in the stylishly-decorated Tatum home.

James was at work, but both Amelia and Rebecca had the day off. They planned to spend their free time watching trash TV and ordering takeout for lunch. It was to be a much needed reprieve from their busy schedules. Something about taking a day off in the middle of the week felt extra luxurious. Like playing hooky from school as a kid. They had discussed their plans for the day, and the only thing left to decide was whether to order Chinese food from a new restaurant on the outskirts of town or to have Garfield’s Pizza-- an old favorite-- delivered.

Amelia had come straight from an overnight shift at the region’s hospital in the neighboring town of Sweet Balm Bay and was too tired to do anything but plop down next to her friend and veg out. Berryhill Community Medical Center was a good employer, but working as a nurse meant long hours on her feet with little time to recover. Amelia came off of each shift thoroughly exhausted. But she wanted to spend the day with Rebecca, so she pushed through her fatigue and drowsiness. She would likely doze on and off during breaks in the conversation. Rebecca would understand. She always did.

Rebecca had high standards for herself, but she didn’t judge her friends or extended family members against the same benchmarks. Especially not her closest friends, like Amelia. When it came to Amelia, Rebecca endeavored to be understanding and gentle. Rebecca knew full well that Amelia needed a soft touch. She figured that the world was cruel enough. She wanted to be a soft place for her friend to fall.

Amelia made her announcement matter-of-factly, as if she had no apprehension about being alone with the man. He was her husband, after all. She was alone with him on a regular basis in the apartment they shared, but there, her friends and family were just a phone call away. Not to mention, the good folks at the Rosemary Run Police Department were on duty, ready to intervene should things turn ugly.

This was different. He wanted to take her into the woods, off the grid.

It was a sad state of affairs for a woman to be afraid of her own husband, yet that’s where Amelia found herself. She hadn’t yet admitted it to anyone else. She had barely admitted it to herself, instead pushing the fear away when it crept into her conscious thoughts. It was easier to pretend that things weren’t so bad than to face what was happening. Amelia knew that she had chosen to marry him. Her friends and family members had urged her to wait and get to know him better before tying the knot. They would say they’d told her so. She couldn’t bear hearing it from them. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Rebecca pursed her lips and tucked strands of her long red hair behind one ear. She felt sorry for her friend, but had warned her back when there was plenty of time to change course. She couldn’t help but wonder how often she should keep gently repeating herself to Amelia when it didn’t seem to do any good. At what point did gentle treatment become enabling? It seemed to be a fine line, one that was sometimes hard to navigate.

Rebecca had felt the same way when her brother-in-law, Mick, was killed and her sister-in-law, Cate, hopped into bed shortly afterward with one of the detectives investigating Mick’s murder. To be fair, that had turned out surprisingly well. Cate and Neil were still together, in love and going strong. Rebecca supposed that crazy situations sometimes ended up good. Even so, she hesitated, hoping the subject would change to something more pleasant.

“What do you think?” Amelia asked, genuinely interested in Rebecca’s opinion. “Should I go? Tell me the truth, Bec.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rebecca replied. She considered how to best steer the conversation away from the matter at hand. She’d prefer not to discuss Amelia’s relationship issues. And Amelia had big relationship issues, whether she realized it or not. “I’m still surprised he moved here in the first place. It’s a big change for him. How do you think he’s adjusting?”

Amelia pressed her head against a throw pillow and narrowed her eyes. “I see what you did there,” she said with a chuckle. She wasn’t mad, but she intended to get a straight answer from her friend. “You aren’t fooling me with your tricks.”

Rebecca smiled, then sighed.

“I’ll say it again. Tell me the truth,” Amelia prompted. “I count on you, you know. You’re my best friend. I need you to keep me on the straight and narrow. To be my moral compass, and all that jazz.”

“I do,” Rebecca said. “But let’s be honest. We both know there are parts of your life that you don’t share with me. At least, not completely. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember.”

She was right. There had been many times during their decades-long friendship that Amelia had done certain things without telling Rebecca. Those things had typically involved risky sexual behavior and questionable choices about boyfriends. The chasm between them had only widened over the years when it came to this topic. From the perspective of an outsider looking in, it might have been hard to imagine how the women remained close given such a difference in values.

Ever since the pair had met in Freshman English class at the University of Nevada in Las Vegas, their philosophy on relationships and boys was the only thing they didn’t see eye-to-eye on. Rebecca had been careful, never kissing on the first date and certainly never getting into bed with someone until they were in a long-term, committed relationship. She’d had only three serious boyfriends during her college years, the last one being James, who later became her husband. Rebecca’s approach to dating was measured. She took her time, making sure that the men she became involved with were worthy of her trust. She had lost out on a few opportunities because of her serious approach to dating, but she didn’t mind. Rebecca was far more interested in quality than quantity.

Not so for Amelia, which Rebecca had always found somewhat odd, given Amelia’s seriousness when it came to matters of academics and later, her career. Amelia never missed a class, and she graduated from UNLV with top honors. She passed her nursing exams with flying colors. When the friends returned home to Rosemary Run-- Rebecca a native and Amelia a new resident having moved to live near her best friend-- and settled into their careers, Amelia had excelled in her job. She’d been promoted several times and had risen to the top of her group at the hospital. Amelia’s career as a nurse had kept pace with Rebecca’s career as an accountant. Both women were well liked and respected professionally. Why, then, had Amelia’s smarts about romantic relationships lagged so far behind?

Amelia shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, clearly thrown off by her friend’s mention of the things she’d kept hidden. It was an unusually direct statement coming from Rebecca. Especially on this topic. It reminded Amelia of Rebecca’s stern warning when she’d told her she was getting married after just three months of dating her new beau.

“What do you mean?” Amelia asked, even though she knew exactly what Rebecca meant.

“Are you going to make me spell it out?” Rebecca asked. “Please, don’t. You know I love you, Amelia. I only want what’s best.”

“What I know is that you don’t like him,” Amelia hissed. “You never even gave him a chance.”

“That’s not fair,” Rebecca replied. “I’ve given him a chance, believe me.”

“Just because he isn’t a goody-goody boy scout like James doesn’t mean he’s trash.”

“Come, now. Trash is a harsh word. I’d never say that about him,” Rebecca replied, her tone even. She wasn’t prone to dramatics, and she rarely allowed herself to get riled.

Amelia sat up and moved to the edge of her seat. She knew she needed to shift the mood between them. “Hey,” she began. “How about I make us a drink? A little alcohol might be just what the doctor ordered.”

Rebecca grimaced. She wasn’t much of a drinker. She rarely drank more than once or twice a week, and almost never this early in the day.

“Oh, don’t give me that face,” Amelia scolded. “Come on. It will loosen things up. How about something simple. Wine? Do you have a bottle?”

Nearly everyone in Rosemary Run had a bottle of wine on hand at any given time. The region was known far and wide for the delicious wine produced locally. Keeping some on hand was almost obligatory. If nothing else, it came in handy when entertaining guests.

“I don’t,” Rebecca replied.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. James and I aren’t big drinkers. You know that.”

A look of disappointment settled over Amelia’s face. She was trying to talk to Rebecca about an important matter, and she needed a way to ease into it. She had decisions to make. Hard ones. Amelia had the distinct sense that her future would be decided during today’s conversation with her friend. She knew that Rebecca would probably be surprised to learn the details of her dysfunctional romantic life. But she had to tell her anyway, before it was too late. Someone should know before she went off grid.

“Okay, then,” Amelia said. “Since you don’t have wine here, let’s go out somewhere and have wine with lunch.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rebecca replied too quickly. “I thought we were staying in today. Aren’t you tired after working all night?”

Amelia pulled her shirt away from her chest, then leaned down and stuck her nose inside, smelling for body odor. It was a crude gesture, but one that was typical for Amelia when in Rebecca’s company. It was striking how comfortable Amelia was around Rebecca in most regards. Yet, telling her the truth about her relationship with her new husband felt like a very hard thing to do. The irony wasn’t lost on either of them.

“If you’d be so kind as to let me take a quick shower and borrow some of your clothes, I’ll be good as new,” Amelia said.

Rebecca didn’t mind any of that, and Amelia knew it. But she could tell that Amelia had something unpleasant to discuss when they got wherever they were going. As the wife of a cop, Rebecca had developed a sixth sense about that kind of thing. And not just with Amelia. For better or worse, James’ job had made them both skeptical and a bit paranoid, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Where do you want to go?” Rebecca asked.

Amelia already had a place in mind. “Maison du Vin,” she suggested. “I hear that the owner, Marcheline Fay, opened up a new restaurant on the property. I’ve been dying to try it.”

“Really?” Rebecca asked. “I knew about the bakery her parents opened in town, but I hadn’t heard about a restaurant at the vineyard.”

Rebecca had always had loved the beauty of Rosemary Run’s local vineyards, and Maison du Vin was one of the prettiest of all. Eating outside with a view of the vineyard sounded appealing.

“Come on, Bec,” Amelia said. “I know how you love the vineyards. It’ll be nice. Just the two of us, drinking wine and eating whatever deliciousness Marcheline serves up. I hear the restaurant is a joint venture with the French guy she recently married. Julien somebody or another.”

“Ah, right,” Rebecca confirmed. “Julien Caron. Those two sound like a match made in heaven.” She instantly regretted saying so. It was callous of her to make comments about happy couples when she knew Amelia was struggling. “I’m sorry,” she added. “I didn’t mean…”

“Stop it,” Amelia said. “I know.”

The friends looked at each other. They didn’t need words to communicate. Rebecca knew that Amelia needed her. And she knew that time was of the essence.

“Okay,” Rebecca said. “Go upstairs to get showered and changed. Pick out anything you want to wear from my closet. I’ll use the guest bathroom to spruce myself up a bit, then I’ll call us a car.”

Amelia leaped up, practically shrieking with excitement. “Thank you, Bec. It’ll be fun. You’ll see.” She bounded up the stairs to get ready, humming the tune to Stayin’ Alive by the Bee Gees. She slowed every few steps to dance along with the beat.

Rebecca smiled back, appreciating Amelia’s sense of humor while, at the same time, steeling herself for whatever bomb her friend was preparing to drop over lunch. She told herself to stay positive, but she had a terrible, sinking feeling. She was concerned for Amelia. And she was aware of the obligation to look out for her. If Amelia’s new husband was a legitimate threat, Rebecca would have no choice but to get James involved.

Rebecca closed her eyes, breathing deeply and hoping that things weren’t as treacherous as they seemed. “Oh, Amelia, my dear, dear, friend,” Rebecca muttered to herself as she clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “I hope to God we can save you.”