Excerpt

Chapter 1

Head bowed against a cold late November wind, Barb dragged her suitcase down the driveway of what had been her home for twenty years: a lovingly kept Victorian mansion in Rosedale. A place where she'd hosted countless parties and charity events.

A house that was no longer hers.

The gate was open—the court appointed movers had arrived bright and early that morning—and five trucks were lined up in the long driveway.

It was a relief, in a way. It had been difficult and humiliating showing the appraisers around, ensuring that they had all of the documentation for the more expensive pieces of art and furniture. She'd always thought it was a good thing she'd been a meticulous recordkeeper since Richard had been terrible at it.

She snorted. Now she knew that her husband's haphazard recordkeeping was on purpose. It had taken forensic accountants months to untangle enough of his finances to finally charge him.

Embezzlement: a fancy word for stealing. It turned out that Richard had spent most of his life stealing: from investors, friends, neighbours, and at the end—when his Ponzi scheme was unravelling—from his own children, because of course even they weren't off-limits.

She was certain they hadn't found all his money: there was no way Richard would have fled the country without some sort of nest egg stashed away somewhere in the world. It wasn't as though he'd be willing to live off whatever his most recent girlfriend could make as a waitress.

That's how he usually met his unending string of paramours: during one of his numerous outings at bars and restaurants where he flashed money around, impressing susceptible young women.

She'd known about them for years and had resigned herself to his philandering mostly because she figured that she had always known who he was. It was her fault for marrying him, but she'd done so willingly in order to escape a less-than-happy home and an angry and controlling father.

Back then Richard had thoroughly charmed her and brought her into the centre of his circle. After her unhappy teen years, she'd enjoyed the lifestyle and attention that came with the society parties and extravagantly luxurious vacations. For most of her life she'd felt that the trade-off was worth it, but when she didn't, when the other women became too much to bear and she threatened to leave, Richard would once again turn the full force of his charm on her.

When he begged her to stay, when he promised to reform, she'd always believed that despite straying so often, he truly loved and valued her.

Now she knew it was because a divorce—and the need to disclose assets—would have exposed his larceny.

She was so stupid.

That was how she'd felt through the last excruciatingly painful six months. Stupid.

How could she have not known what her husband was up to? How could she have had no clue that he'd created a financial house of cards that had taken so much from everyone in Richard's orbit, including her?

No one believed she'd been that stupid: not her society friends; not the courts; not even her sons. Richard Jr. and Kyle blamed her for not warning them about their father; for allowing him to steal thousands of dollars from them. Now they wouldn't even take her calls so she could explain. Not that she knew what to say. How could she make them understand that there were so many things she'd just let Richard handle? How to convince them that she hadn't even known the house had been remortgaged and that her name had been taken off the deed?

That had been the final blow. She'd been evicted from her own house; a humiliation she wasn't sure she would ever recover from. The only silver lining was that she wasn't on the mortgage.

Richard had stolen everything from her: her home, her life, her friends, and even her family.

A car honked from the end of the drive and Barb waved. There was one thing, one person Richard hadn't stolen from her, although she was ashamed that she'd let him come so close.

Kat Henderson had been her best friend all through school. After Barb married Richard, she and Kat had drifted apart and hadn't reconnected until meeting up at their high school reunion half a dozen years ago.

That was when Barb learned that Richard had told Kat to stay away: that he'd deliberately sabotaged their friendship. Worried that he'd try to do the same thing again, she'd kept their rekindled friendship a secret.

Barb took one last look at the house she'd been so proud of, before stepping past the open gate to the waiting car.

"Ready to start your new Dickless life?" Kat asked from the driver's seat.

"I have to be," Barb said. She opened the back door, tossed her suitcase onto the seat, and got in the front.

"It'll be fun," Kat said. "You'll see."

"Fun," Barb repeated under her breath as she buckled the seat belt. She'd appreciate stable. She had very little money, no paid work experience, and a single friend who had stepped up far beyond anything she had any right to expect. She was sixty-two years old, and instead of looking forward to enjoying her golden years, she was staring directly at poverty. She didn't expect fun to be part of her life for a very long time.