Soft rock blared from a pair of onstage speakers. Christina Marshall rubbed at her temple, trying to ease the growing ache. She would win an Oscar for tonight's outstanding performance. No one had noticed her underlying unease. At least, she didn't think anyone had.

She glanced around the rented reception room again. As parties went for landing a monstrous account, this one beat all, Chris guessed, since she wasn't into this kind of thing. Her coworkers danced and talked and seemed to truly be having a good time. All while drowning themselves in whatever they could purchase from the cash bar. One big Friday after-work happy hour.

Christina had to admit that everyone did appear happy. Except for her. No! You do look happy, Marshall. Suck it up. One hour. You only have to make it one hour before slipping out. That was the time she'd set for herself and she was going to stick to it even if it killed her. Chris slapped a goofy smile on her face and hoped it didn't make her look like she needed a straitjacket.

Yep, she was most de ... read full excerpt from The Strength of Three ebook