.” Her voice quivered and it angered June. She didn’t want her compassion stirred. “I trusted him.” A single rivulet ran down Claire’s polished cheek. “I’m not proud of what I did, but Reb made me feel special, made me feel desired and wanted. He’s so exciting, powerful, and handsome.”
Claire’s words and sentiment resonated, adding color to the reason June returned to Reb year after year, indiscretion after indiscretion.
“You are one of dozens, Claire. The latest in a list of women he’s made feel special . Don’t be foolish.” June yanked her cart and started to back away, gathering her sympathies and compassion. Enough of this. She’d not feel solidarity with the woman she’d caught with her husband.
“One of dozens?” Claire lifted her chin. The wind whipped the end of her scarf against her cheek. “Well now, doesn’t that make you feel all warm and fuzzy, June? Who’s the real fool standing here?”
June walked toward The Market, head high, back straight, eyes swimming, heart bleeding.
Two a.m. Jade jumped out of Max’s Mercedes before he came to a complete stop. “Oh my gosh.” She pressed her hands to her face. No, no, no . The bed of a Ford F-350 protruded from the front window of the Blue Two.
A Chattanooga police officer stopped her from rushing into the shop. “Can’t go in there.”
“But it’s my shop.”
“Are you Jade Benson?” He backed her up to the parking lot.
“That’s my shop.” She clutched the side of her head. “What happened?” Her shop. Her pain-in-the-butt shop. Smashed. The scene overwhelmed her. Poor Blue Two. Max’s hand slipped over her shoulder along with his low whistle.
“The Blue Two has looked better, babe.”
“Couple of kids were street racing.” The office indicated the riverfront lane. “One of them lost control and ran right through your front door.”
“Is he okay?” Max asked in such a way Jade knew his lawyer mind was churning.
“Yes, she is. Banged-up face and broken arm. The air bags saved her. Good thing Fords are ‘built to last.’”
“Can I go in?” Jade pressed past the officer toward the gaping opening. In the light of the street, she could see jagged, heavy shards of glass dangling from the main window frame.
“The firefighters have been going in and out on the far left side”—the officer pointed—“but be careful. There’s a lot of glass, ma’am. And the front is pretty unstable.”
“Let me go first.” Max pulled her back, following the police spotlight through the opening, clearing debris with a large stride, stepping over a support beam.
The front displays were ruined, smashed by the blow of the truck, its heavy tires resting on piles of clothes. The collection of antique jewelry boxes Jade had just found and put on display had splintered against the hardwood floor. She stooped to gather the pieces in her palm, so rare and precious.
“Such foolishness,” she muttered, feeling hollow.
“I’m sorry, babe.” Max ran his hand over her hair. “Is this where I say ‘bad things happen for good reasons’?”
“Not if you love me.” Jade walked the broken porcelain pieces to the sales counter on the opposite wall.
“Mrs. Benson, here’s a copy of the report.” The officer handed a paper to her, but she passed it on to Max. “Your insurance company will want it.”
“In triplicate.” Max folded up the report, slipping it into his pocket. “I’m going to give this to Tom, Jade. Let him deal with it. He’s not Benson Law’s insurance expert for nothing.”
“That’s great for tomorrow, but what are we going to do about this . . . now?” In the pale white street glow, Jade fit two of the largest pieces together. The delicate angel wings barely fit together. A chunk was missing in between. Jade slipped the pieces into her pocket.
Inspecting the rest of the shop, Jade was relieved to find most of the damage was contained to the front. With her adrenaline rush fading, her
Claire’s words and sentiment resonated, adding color to the reason June returned to Reb year after year, indiscretion after indiscretion.
“You are one of dozens, Claire. The latest in a list of women he’s made feel special . Don’t be foolish.” June yanked her cart and started to back away, gathering her sympathies and compassion. Enough of this. She’d not feel solidarity with the woman she’d caught with her husband.
“One of dozens?” Claire lifted her chin. The wind whipped the end of her scarf against her cheek. “Well now, doesn’t that make you feel all warm and fuzzy, June? Who’s the real fool standing here?”
June walked toward The Market, head high, back straight, eyes swimming, heart bleeding.
Two a.m. Jade jumped out of Max’s Mercedes before he came to a complete stop. “Oh my gosh.” She pressed her hands to her face. No, no, no . The bed of a Ford F-350 protruded from the front window of the Blue Two.
A Chattanooga police officer stopped her from rushing into the shop. “Can’t go in there.”
“But it’s my shop.”
“Are you Jade Benson?” He backed her up to the parking lot.
“That’s my shop.” She clutched the side of her head. “What happened?” Her shop. Her pain-in-the-butt shop. Smashed. The scene overwhelmed her. Poor Blue Two. Max’s hand slipped over her shoulder along with his low whistle.
“The Blue Two has looked better, babe.”
“Couple of kids were street racing.” The office indicated the riverfront lane. “One of them lost control and ran right through your front door.”
“Is he okay?” Max asked in such a way Jade knew his lawyer mind was churning.
“Yes, she is. Banged-up face and broken arm. The air bags saved her. Good thing Fords are ‘built to last.’”
“Can I go in?” Jade pressed past the officer toward the gaping opening. In the light of the street, she could see jagged, heavy shards of glass dangling from the main window frame.
“The firefighters have been going in and out on the far left side”—the officer pointed—“but be careful. There’s a lot of glass, ma’am. And the front is pretty unstable.”
“Let me go first.” Max pulled her back, following the police spotlight through the opening, clearing debris with a large stride, stepping over a support beam.
The front displays were ruined, smashed by the blow of the truck, its heavy tires resting on piles of clothes. The collection of antique jewelry boxes Jade had just found and put on display had splintered against the hardwood floor. She stooped to gather the pieces in her palm, so rare and precious.
“Such foolishness,” she muttered, feeling hollow.
“I’m sorry, babe.” Max ran his hand over her hair. “Is this where I say ‘bad things happen for good reasons’?”
“Not if you love me.” Jade walked the broken porcelain pieces to the sales counter on the opposite wall.
“Mrs. Benson, here’s a copy of the report.” The officer handed a paper to her, but she passed it on to Max. “Your insurance company will want it.”
“In triplicate.” Max folded up the report, slipping it into his pocket. “I’m going to give this to Tom, Jade. Let him deal with it. He’s not Benson Law’s insurance expert for nothing.”
“That’s great for tomorrow, but what are we going to do about this . . . now?” In the pale white street glow, Jade fit two of the largest pieces together. The delicate angel wings barely fit together. A chunk was missing in between. Jade slipped the pieces into her pocket.
Inspecting the rest of the shop, Jade was relieved to find most of the damage was contained to the front. With her adrenaline rush fading, her
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