As she always did on any really important day, Penelope Hayes wore red.

Well, if you weren't flirting with him"-his voice had now grown a little plaintive-"who was he, and what did you want with him anyway?" "If you are so determined to bore me, I may just have to go home." Astrid sighed carelessly, "What a shame, when I am wearing such a pretty dress.

Already she could feel the stunning weight of a lifetime of regret for letting him go, and she knew that it was enought to bury her alive.

You don’t need to marry a man with millions. You only need to be your exquisite self.

Life was a short window and there was no sense in doing the wrong thing over and over even if it was so difficult to stop.

She found herself longing for home-not just for the hotel but for New York and all the real novels that she could lose herself in there.

Instead, he sat in the parlor of his family's Fifth Avenue mansion, growing older by the minute just like everybody else.