But
back
to
Ava
Dodd
Radcliffe.
Cynthia
re-read
her
message. “Dear Miss Amas...I admire what you’re doing with 2nd Acts. I
have
a
proposal.
Perhaps
we
might
meet
at
your
earliest
convenience?” Perhaps we might meet at your earliest convenience. Sheeven texted wealthy. Cynthia thought about Ava Radcliffe’s situation. Aside from the occasional notice in the news about her appearances at dry fundraisers for one of the many cultural institutions on whose board she sat, there had been no indication that she was back in the dating market. At all. Judging from published group photos, she still seemed gripped by an overwhelming sadness that even vast
worldly
riches
had
no
discernable
effect
upon.
It
was
understandable. She had married Jonathon, more than twenty years her senior, when she was barely out of college. And although she’d had a short but lucrative modeling career in her teens and a few early plum roles in film, including True Love Lost, for which she had been nominated for an Oscar and broken the hearts of millions of teenage boys, she immediately abandoned all work within months of her wedding day. As in most such cases, people speculated
about
whether
their
plan
was
to
quickly
start
a
family. But no babies arrived, which of course instead bred more speculation. As time went on, it appeared that they were just