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. . . when she wants to be. Like the birthday

party.”

152

Karyn Langhorne

“She was at the party?” Audra said in surprise.

“Penny’s sweet sixteen?”

Bradshaw’s face scrunched together like Audra

had said something ridiculous. “Course she was.

You met her! Remember?”

“I didn’t meet anyone but Penny and that Esmer-

alda woman—”

The instant the words left her mouth, she realized

who he was talking about, understood the depth of

her mistake. Esmeralda Prince wasn’t just his fabu-

lously gorgeous date for the evening. She was much,

much more. The room suddenly felt stuffy and Au-

dra had to tell herself to breathe slow and deep to

keep her lightheadedness at bay, while her memo-

ries of the party played in her mind. Esmeralda

Prince was Penny’s mother? she thought, with a sud-

den desperate wave of pity for the girl. No wonder

she’s got issues . . .

“Oh my God . . .” Audra murmured, covering her

open mouth with her hands. “And here I was, think-

ing Esmeralda Prince was your girlfriend . . .”

“Prince is her maiden name. She took it back

when we split up.” Bradshaw peered at Audra as

though her thoughts were written on her face for

him to read. “When Penny was two. She’s been in

and out of our lives ever since . . .” He winced as

though the words caused him pain. “And now she’s

gone.”

“Gone?” Audra repeated.

Bradshaw nodded. “Again. And this time, I don’t

think I can let her come back.”

Audra stared at him, waiting for the rest, but he

DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING

153

folded his lips tight and stared at something just

over her shoulder like his life depended on main-

taining his focus. Finally, Audra snapped her fin-

gers beneath his nose, recalling him brusquely to

the present. “Down here, Bradshaw!” she snapped

at him, annoyed by his inattentiveness. Apparently

a girl had to be Esmeralda Prince to get—and

keep—his attention. “Can I get the rest of the story

please?”

“You don’t know the rest of story?” he snapped,

frustration rising in his tone. “You can’t tell by look-

ing at her what a sap I’ve been?”

Audra almost shot back something about how

thinking with his “little head” had obviously gotten

him into a world of trouble, but before she could of-

fer that unhelpful comment, Bradshaw continued

with, “Well look at her! Can’t you tell by how she

looks? How thin she is?”

“You like light-skinned, skinny women who wear

great clothes.” Audra lifted a shoulder like it wasn’t

the tiniest skin off her nose. “If that were a crime,

most of the men in America would be guilty. That’s

one of the reasons I’m doing what I’m doing—”

“Esmeralda’s got a drug problem, Audra,” Brad-

shaw murmured. “A bad one.”

Audra blinked at him. “A drug problem? She

can’t have a drug problem! She’s too gorgeous to

have a drug problem.”

“Gorgeous,” Bradshaw rolled his eyes, his lips

hard with suppressed fury. “I used to think so. She

used to be beautiful.” He paused, remembering.

“Curvaceous figure . . . womanly . . .” He shook the

154

Karyn Langhorne

image away. “But is it gorgeous to steal your daugh-

ter’s presents and run out on her on her birthday?”

he asked, and seeing the shock on Audra’s face, he

added, “Yeah, it’s true. She stole all Penny’s gifts,

most of the money in Penny’s bank account and dis-

appeared. We haven’t seen her since.”

“Said she was clean.” Bradshaw pulled a photo-

graph from his wallet and flipped it toward her from

his seat across from her in a bustling diner not far

from the prison’s entrance. The sun was rising over

Manhattan, but his handsome faced was etched

with a pain so deep Audra had to turn her head to

stop herself from reaching out and grabbing his

hand, or stroking his face—anything to reassure

him that it would be all right.

But instead, from their booth near the window,

Audra pulled the photo toward her across the table

and glanced down at it.

It was much-fingered, dog-eared, clearly carried

and treasured for many years. In it, Audra recog-

nized Bradshaw, Penny and Esmeralda all looking

impossibly young. Audra knew the crisp uniform

Bradshaw wore as the dress blues of the Marine

Corps, and his face blinked out of the photograph

with an almost adolescent innocence. Penny was a

happy toddler on his lap, grinning wide, showing a

mouthful of baby teeth.

But it was Esmeralda who captured Audra’s atten-

tion. She still had the fair skin and that long russet

hair curling against her shoulders, but her face and

arms were rounded with soft, voluptuous flesh.

From her pose behind her husband and their daugh-

DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING

155

ter, Audra could make out the curves of fleshy hips.

At the very least, she was pleasantly plump. Some

might even have called her fat. Indeed, the Esmer-

alda of this picture was certainly as heavy as Audra

herself was right now. Audra glanced from the

photo to the man before her, a sudden feeling of

hopefulness combined with uneasiness settling in

her stomach.

“Nice,” she murmured sliding the photo back to

Bradshaw, who returned it lovingly to his wallet.

“She said she’d been clean for a year,” Bradshaw

continued in his thrilling low baritone. “Wanted to

apologize to Penny and me for . . . leaving us. Ap-

parently she got a job here in the city—typing for

some law firm . . .” He sighed. “But she didn’t have

a place to stay.”

“And you let her move in with you,” Audra fin-

ished.

“She’s Penny’s mother, for Christ’s sake!” Brad-

shaw exploded, slamming his fist against the table

so that their coffee cups jumped in their saucers.

“She seemed better! What was I supposed to do?”

“I’m not judging you, Bradshaw,” Audra said as

gently as possible. “I’m just trying to understand

what happened.”

The man took a big gulp of air and offered a

pained smile to her shoulder. Audra was turning her

head toward it when she remembered: Except on

rare occasions, Bradshaw seemed to prefer her

shoulder to her face. After the picture, it was a sharp

reminder: Even if Bradshaw didn’t mind a woman

with a few extra pounds, Audra was still no Esmer-

alda Prince . . . at least, not yet.

156

Karyn Langhorne

“Sorry,” he muttered, and Audra focused her at-

tention on the man again. “I’m furious with myself.

And her. Penny was already all confused and

crazy—”

“How is she? Penny?”

“Miserable. Says she hates

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