To her great relief she was granted a leave and also offered an opportunity to do some research abroad in Europe until the summer. After experiencing a world of pain, nothing could have suited her better than to get away. Best of all, she was assured that Dr. Belmont would no longer be on the staff at San José State and would be teaching at a college back east. She would never have to see him again.
After Christmas, Abby flew to LA for a week’s worth of meetings to collaborate with two other women on the project before going overseas. Ginger Lawrence and Zoe Perkins, who both had similar literature backgrounds from Stanford and UCLA respectively, had also been hired. The three of them, close in age, bonded fast. The thought of going to Europe with the girls gave Abby something to look forward to and the courage to make some changes in her life. So, before returning to San José to pack and leave for Europe with them, Abby decided to get a makeover and visited a beauty salon.
The lady in charge told her to be seated. While Abby waited, she poured through some magazines. In a few minutes one of the hairdressers beckoned her over to the chair. Abby took the magazine with her.
“What can I do for you?”
“I’d like you to cut and style my hair like this!” She showed her the picture she liked most. It was a bouncy bob with graduated layers. Each curled layer ending somewhere between the chin and the shoulders. She wanted something in between.
“Are you sure? All this long gold hair cut off?” The hairdresser acted shocked, as if Abby had asked for something sinful. How funny. Why did this woman care what she wanted?
Three weeks ago Abby had cut Nigel Belmont out of her life so fast, he hadn’t seen it coming. After Christmas he’d tried to talk to her once on the phone and she’d told him to go to hell in so many words. She’d meant it and it had felt good!
Cutting her hair was her last act to separate herself from any semblance to the old Abby—she’d since vowed never to be duped by a man again.
The woman shook her head, but she did as Abby asked. An hour later she almost squealed in delight after looking in the mirror. Abby hardly recognized herself. Her apple-green eyes appeared larger and she thought she actually looked her age of twenty-six instead of the tired-looking thirty she’d seemed to be. She’d needed something simple and easy. That was the whole idea!
Abby paid the woman a nice tip. Before leaving the salon, she had to tiptoe over her long locks of silvery-blond hair but did it with no regrets.
CHAPTER ONE
Five months later
WITH HER LAPTOP packed between the sweaters in her suitcase, Abby left the bedsitter in Cologny, Switzerland, where she’d been staying for the last two weeks, and took a taxi to the train station in Geneva, Switzerland.
With her massive research project finished, today marked the first day of her vacation. No longer restricted to suits and dresses, Abby had pulled on her favorite pair of jeans and a crew neck, short sleeve white-on-black print blouse. She had the whole month of June to have fun before returning to San José.
Abby couldn’t wait to be with her friends again. They’d Skyped and phoned each other—sent emails—but it would be great to do things together in person.
Once in graduate school she’d become a teaching assistant in the humanities department and had worked hard. Specializing in the romance writers of the early nineteenth century, she’d received her doctorate, after which she’d been given more classes to teach. That’s when she’d met Nigel. In hindsight, what a disaster that meeting had turned out to be!
But she’d learned she wasn’t the only one who’d been burned in a relationship. One of the girls, Zoe, had just come out of a bitter divorce because her husband had been unfaithful. She’d insisted she would never want anything to do with a man again. Abby didn’t need to get inside Zoe’s skin to understand how she felt.
The pain of putting your trust in the man you loved only to discover he hadn’t loved you or believed in the sanctity of marriage had been too devastating. Abby felt like her heart had been murdered. How could she ever trust anyone again?
As for Ginger, she’d lost her husband recently to cancer and needed to get away from the pain. In a short time the three of them had developed a special camaraderie, and all three of them were ready to play.
Being in an especially good mood, Abby gave the driver a nice tip and walked inside the train station with her suitcase. Since she had fifteen minutes before she needed to board her train, she headed directly for her favorite food kiosk. She’d eaten here every time she’d needed to take the train someplace.
After making her selection of six small quiches, two for herself and two for each her friends, she bought a second-class ticket and boarded the crowded train.
She found a compartment and sat down across from a priest and a couple of teenagers speaking German. They started to listen to rock music, but their earphones didn’t block the sound all that much. Abby didn’t mind. Not so the priest, who finally got up and left the compartment. She decided she would wait to eat until she met the girls at the village of St. Saphorin, an hour and a half or so and a quick change of trains away.
The quiet, efficient train ran alongside Lake Geneva, the famous croissant-shaped lake called lac Léman by the locals. Abby settled back, almost preening like a cat in the sun because she was so happy to be free of responsibilities. The train glided from one picturesque village to another in a gentle rhythm.
The surroundings that included the sapphire-blue lake with the snow-crested French Alps in the distance mesmerized her. Before long she had to change trains and it wasn’t long after that that St. Saphorin appeared, wedged between the water and terraced rows of vineyards that ran up the steep hillsides.
&n
bsp; When the train came to a stop, she reached for her suitcase and left the compartment. Several other passengers had already descended. Finally, she was going to see her friends. Abby was eager to be with them and on vacation.
Yesterday Zoe had flown to Venice, Italy, from Athens, Greece, to meet up with Ginger who’d been doing research in Italy. The two of them had boarded the night train to Switzerland. They’d planned to get off in Montreux to pick up the rental car and drive the few kilometers to St. Saphorin.
Relieved to be here, Abby walked around to the front of the station. There was no sign of the girls yet. She sat down and took in the sight of the Jura Mountains in the distance while she waited. After twenty minutes, she phoned Ginger and had to leave a message. Then she called Zoe, who answered.
“Abby? Are you in St. Saphorin?”
“Yes. Where are you?”