Regina Moore and Karen Jackson, lifelong best friends, are living the kind of life most women only fantasize about. With beautiful homes, fulfilling careers, and two adoring husbands, their joy could not be greater, their worlds could not be richer. But suddenly, shattering truths about the loving men they thought they knew turn happiness into anguish and rage. For Karen and Regina, nothing they believed in or cherished can ever be the same as it was. Yet, in the painful process of starting over, new doors will open, and two women who once had it all will rediscover the power of honesty and friendship ... and learn the true scope and meaning of love. “Kimberla Lawson Roby is a true writer, a storyteller at the top of her game.” - Eric Jerome Dickey Regina Moore and Karen Jackson, lifelong best friends, are living the kind of life most women only fantasize about. With beautiful homes, fulfilling careers, and two adoring husbands, their joy could not be greater, their worlds could not be richer. But suddenly, shattering truths about the loving men they thought they knew turn happiness into anguish and rage. For Karen and Regina, nothing they believed in or cherished can ever be the same as it was. Yet, in the painful process of starting over, new doors will open, and two women who once had it all will rediscover the power of honesty and friendship ... and learn the true scope and meaning of love. Kimberla Lawson Robyis the award-winning, New York Times bestselling author of the Reverend Curtis Black series as well as many other novels and novellas. She lives with her husband in Rockford, Illinois. Behind Closed Doors By Roby, Kimberla Lawson Avon Trade ISBN: 0060593652 Chapter One Regina cruised the silver Mercedes in front of her two-storyhouse and beamed with much admiration. Themere sight of Wesleyan Estates sent chills through herentire body. Perfectly landscaped lawns, a nearby golfcourse, gorgeous houses occupied by wealthy residents.She'd been blessed. Blessed at the age of thirty with whatmost black people were never able to reap throughout anentire lifetime. And it had all transpired in such perfectorder too, one splendid event right after another.Graduating from U of I with no preposterous studentloan balances to repay, marrying a well-educated, highlypaid, gorgeous-looking black man named Larry, andthen purchasing this immaculate home, located in aninety-nine-percent white, upper-echelon subdivision.Simply put, they had it all. They'd obtained theAmerican dream without even realizing it. She crept past Larry's crystal white Lexus, parked nextto the Cherokee inside the two-car garage, and frownedwhen she realized the door had been left wide open.She'd fussed at Larry no less than a thousand times fornot closing that garage door, and still he didn't seem tobe paying her the slightest bit of attention. Just didn'tseem to be worried, since they lived in this ritzy neighborhood.But then he'd have a totally different attitudeonce all of those expensive yard toys of his came up missing.That high-tech electric edger, top-of-the-line snowthrower, and brand-new mulching lawn mower. It wasso strange how men always had to learn everything thehard way. Just couldn't tell them anything. She removed the key from the ignition, stepped out ofthe car, shut the door, pressed the garage door control onthe wall, and walked through the door leading to thehunter green, country-style kitchen. She spotted today'smail stacked on the wooden, tiled-top table where Larryhad left it. Bills, bills, bills. Not a day seemed to pass bywithout one showing up. Nordstrom, Saks, Visa, Discover.She might as well have listed them as joint owners on herchecking account with all the checks that were written outto each of them every month, she thought, tossing the billsback onto the table one by one. But at the bottom of thepile was an elegant picture of Oprah Winfrey displayedacross the cover of Essence magazine. It was their twenty-fifthanniversary issue, and it appeared to be pretty interesting.She'd definitely have to make sure and find time toread this before the weekend was over. As she climbed the winding stairs and entered the upstairshallway, she heard the shower running. It was a bitearly to be getting ready for a nine o'clock show, the oneshe and Larry usually took in every Friday night, butmaybe he'd decided to take her to a real restaurant for achange and not one of those tasteless fast-food places.She was sick of eating generic seafood every Fridaynight. The Boston Sea Party was far more to her liking,and that's where she prayed they were going. Regina walked into the master bedroom, kicked offher navy blue pumps, slipped out of the navy blue crepesuit and carefully removed her panty hose by ChristianDior. Yesterday, before the clock in her office had barelystruck noon, she'd torn a gigantic run in the ones she'dbeen wearing, and she was planning to get at least one ortwo more wears out of this pair befo