table. “I remember the night the FBI came to the door with a search warrant. I stood in our bedroom and watched strange men going through my underwear drawer, CJ. Hours later, I locked up behind them. Everything you and I owned had been pawed over and tossed here or there, and left for me to deal with. The last guy out the door told me to do myself a favor and not try to hide any assets, because they would find them anyway, and I’d be in bigger trouble than I was already.”
She looked up. “That was one of the better days. Let’s not even talk about the day the moving van came.”
He reached over and took her hand. “I’m sorry, TK. Sorrier than I can tell you.”
She looked down. Her hand in his looked and felt so familiar. She knew better than to leave it there, but somehow, she couldn’t find the incentive to pull away.
“I told myself it was all your fault,” she said, “but now I know it wasn’t. Not completely. I wanted the things we had. I was willing to look the other way whenever I had the slightest doubts everything wasn’t on the up-and-up. I figured that was the price I had to pay, and it was so small in comparison to everything I got. Beautiful houses, and country club memberships, and the way people looked at me when you and I were together. Maybe knowing that, knowing how much I wanted all of that, made it easier for you to just get it for me, for us, any way you had to. I can’t discount that entirely.”
“I cut some corners. I took too many chances. But it was never your fault. And all the things that happened? You didn’t deserve any of them.”
“Didn’t I?” She really wasn’t sure. And she really wasn’t sure she would still want what she’d once had, even if somebody set it in front of her again. No strings attached.
He lifted her hand and kissed it before she could stop him. Then he folded her fingers and let go.
“Wine. Antipasto. Let’s talk about some of the good times.”
“We aren’t going to have any more of those,” she warned. “Not together.”
“I’ll settle for the past right now. Okay? And lobster ravioli?”
“Lobster ravioli is the past. And don’t tell me where you got the money to buy it.”
“Nothing for you to worry about, I promise.”
She doubted that. She knew that her job now was to stay so far on the outside of whatever CJ was doing that she didn’t have to worry. At least not about herself.
But she had a sinking feeling that she was going to be worried about him. Despite their checkered history. Despite her conviction he still wasn’t telling the truth.
Because she had to face the fact that despite everything she had wanted to believe since the divorce, once upon a time, she really had been in love with CJ Craimer.
chapter fifteen
Dana had good ideas, and Wanda was proud of herself for hiring the woman, instead of letting her languish at The Dancing Shrimp. She was probably paying Dana too much, considering that the shop would be in the red for months to come, but she had estimated how much Dana made at the restaurant and matched it. Wanda’s Wonderful Pies was never going to make Wanda a rich woman, but if eventually she and Dana could both make a living, then that was fine by her.
Today Dana was more than earning her keep. Not only was she packing up forty pies in the kitchen, Wanda was reaping the benefits of Dana’s good ideas on the telephone.
“I’m glad you liked my Charleston pie,” Wanda told the caterer on the other end of the line. “And we’re always happy to work with you. We have a special list, just for caterers, so our regular customers won’t already be tired of what you serve them. Plus, don’t forget, caterers get a ten percent discount, and that’s on top of our bulk pricing. So we’ll take that right off today’s invoice.”
She listened, nodding her head. “Friday night, then. And you’ll come by so we don’t have to charge for delivery?” She nodded again, then thanked the woman and hung up.
“Whoopie!” She did a little dance behind the counter, glad nobody was in the shop to see.
“What’s up?” Dana came out to see what the fuss was about.