Chapter 1

New Year's Day brought the lingering scent of cheap men's cologne and an intense hangover.

Jill lay in bed, her eyes screwed shut to the midday sunlight that was streaming through her bedroom windows. She took a few deep breaths, attempting to recall the previous night's festivities, but the loud hammering in her head interfered. She rubbed her brow and groaned. What the hell did I do this time?

It was a New Year's Eve party at her neighbor's house. It was supposed to be "nothing more than an informal get-together to toast in the New Year," they had told her. "Stop by and have a glass or two of champagne. Meet other people. Maybe some karaoke," they said. But by ten o'clock it was loud and boisterous, champagne long abandoned with shots of tequila becoming the celebratory drink of choice.

She winced when she got up out of bed and staggered to the bathroom, refraining from turning on the vanity lights. Where the hell was the Tylenol? With bleary eyes, she rifled through the medicine cabinet and located the bottle, grimacing when she attempted to open the cap. Damn these child-proof tops!

Jill downed a couple of pain relievers with a handful of tap water. Cautiously, she eyed herself in the mirror. Memories of last night were sporadic and incomplete. Snippets included Beatle songs and Bush bashing. Jill remembered getting it on with some guy - Mike or Marco or something like that. He was a jockey. No, that's not right. He's too tall to be a jockey. Jockey agent? Yeah, something like that. Whatever. She mildly shrugged and glanced back at the rumpled mass of sheets on her bed. A slight smile played on her lips. Whatever, she thought again.

The throbbing in her head drowned out any more thoughts about last night. A good soak in the hot tub would offer a respite while the Tylenol did its work.

She grabbed her robe and walked across her bedroom to the patio door; an adjacent access to a hot tub is an absolute necessity. Peering through the door's window, she was surprised to see the hot tub cover was off, until she vaguely remembered some wildly primal behavior with Mike. Marco. Whatever.

It wasn't as cold as Jill anticipated when she stepped outside - a brisk 50-something North Texas winter day. She decided that she could, however, do without the bright North Texas winter sunshine at this moment.

Mercifully, the hot tub was still at a steamy 101°. Jill stripped off her robe and carefully climbed into the hot tub and turned on the jets. She sat back, resting her head against a head rest and thought, The year can only improve ...