"It's terribly convenient for you, Marcus, that your paramour owns an entire villa for you to move into at the drop of a hat," Liam grumbles the next day as he helps us wheel our suitcases to the elevators. "Some of us are going to be in this bloody hotel for the next decade, if the fire department has anything to say about it." "It's not the fire department's fault that Nicole's ex-boyfriend is a psychotic arsonist," Marcus responds, shooting me a wicked little grin. I whack his arm playfully. 

A week later, I'm starting to feel like I've really settled into my new life full of possibility and hope. Things are so much easier now, and not just because I don't have to hide who I am anymore. As soon as Charles was taken away by police and chucked into jail where he belongs, awaiting his trial in the human court system, it was like a black cloud of despair and tension finally lifted from over my head. It's time for me to move on, into my new life, with my new family and friends.

A few weeks later, I'm at the villa, poring over paint samples. Jeanette has been very generous in helping me with ideas for a massive makeover for the villa, and I'm excited to make the place really my own. Well, mine and Marcus's, of course. He comes home in the evenings from his business duties at the hotel to have a glass of wine with me and talk over options. We've discussed decorators, but for now, I think I'd like to handle most of the decisions myself. "You surely don't expect to

The biggest problem with waitressing is that Becki really freaking hates it, okay? It's miserable. People are so rude to you, all the time, and your arms ache after each shift from carrying around everybody's hot plates and their stupid trays of cocktails and wine and soda and god knows what else. And nobody is ever happy, either. They ordered a Cabernet Sauvignon, but all your restaurant sells is Merlot. Well. You'd think the entire sky was falling down, the way some people car

"Marcus!" I shout, tripping over the last step at the bottom of the staircase. "Ouch! Damn it, we need to get that fixed. Marcus, where are you?" "I'm in here, carina," Marcus calls back. He comes out of the kitchen with a raised eyebrow. "Just making your coffee. I think I've almost got this machine figured out, I swear." I burst out laughing. "It's been five years, honey. I think if you were going to get along with that machine, it would've happened by now."