Death by Equine Annette Dashofy (black authors fiction txt) 📖

options. Lorenzo’s Delmonico, Lamb Shank, Seared Scallops in Champagne-Saffron Sauce, Citrus Roasted Duck...

“I could make some suggestions if you like.”

“That’s all right.” She located Mushroom Risotto at the bottom of the page. “My choices are usually slim, but I see something that may work.”

Daniel tapped the side of his head. “I forgot about you being vegetarian. I’m sure Lorenzo could make something special for you.”

The idea of the Lorenzo whipping up a dish just for her brought a smile. “Thanks, but no.”

“It won’t be a problem. Really.” Daniel raised a hand to summon a waiter.

Jessie reached across the table and caught his arm. “No.” Amusing as the idea had been, the last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself, her old dress, or anything else. “Please.”

She hoped the expression on Daniel’s face was one of puzzlement rather than pity. “All right.” He lowered his hand.

Jessie released his arm, but not before poking at it. “Don’t forget, I’m used to making a meal out of nachos and french fries because of limited menu choices. Mushrooms and rice sound like a delicacy to me.”

Daniel was still laughing when their waiter arrived.

THE RISOTTO PROVED to be the ideal choice. Creamy, savory, and seasoned to perfection. Jessie briefly contemplated licking the plate clean.

Within the boundaries of the “no shop talk” rule, conversation with Daniel felt easy and relaxed. But conversation was the only thing that felt that way. She stole glances at the other women in the restaurant and marveled at their chic apparel. Everyone must be discreetly pointing at her and wondering what homeless shelter Daniel had rescued her from.

“The staff all seem to know you,” she commented as they waited for dessert. “How often do you come here?”

“Not all that frequently.” He winked at her. “I just tip well.”

“I see,” she said with a laugh.

Her gaze swept the room again. She’d always known he wasn’t poor, but after seeing his choice of vehicle, restaurant, and custom-tailored suit, she began to wonder how well-off he really was. She’d never considered herself destitute, despite her shabby wardrobe, but a chasm the size of Texas divided their two worlds.

“Hello?”

Jessie realized Daniel had been talking to her. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

He chuckled. “I asked how long you’d had Molly. Your cat?”

“Oh. Since she was a kitten. Her mother had been hit on the road and someone brought the litter to Doc. He found homes for all but Molly. I kept her and took her with me to Columbus when I went to college.” The memory of the tiny puff of fur was sweet, but Daniel’s question also stirred one of her own.

He must’ve noticed the change in her expression. “What’s wrong?”

She rubbed the ache between her eyes. “It’s Greg. I found out today that he and my receptionist from my veterinary hospital are living together.”

Daniel froze, his coffee cup midway to his lips. Slowly, he returned it to its saucer. “Oh.”

“And that’s not the best part. They told me they want my house. And Molly.”

He stared at her. “You can’t be serious.”

A picture of Jessie’s future life flashed across the movie screen of her mind. Sleeping on a cot in the hospital’s office. No. That was too close to the house Greg and Vanessa planned to share. The location changed to a generic apartment, a generic bed, and no Molly, no Peanut, no husband. No stability. She’d lived that life once, sharing furnished apartments and motel rooms with her footloose parents and younger brother. Never having anything to hold onto. Nothing to anchor her.

She’d be damned if she’d go back to that.

Something brushed the back of her hand. She flinched before realizing it was Daniel. He pulled back. “I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t sure if he was expressing sympathy for her marital situation or apologizing for touching her. Either way, it didn’t matter. She shook her head. “That’s okay.” She met his troubled eyes and forced a smile. “It’s not been a good day.” As the understatement escaped her lips, the rush of tears took her by surprise. “I’m sorry,” she said, choking. The chair almost tipped over in her haste to rise. Catching it, she spun and bolted to the restroom.

It was empty, much to her relief. She barely noticed the white marble and brass décor, the crystal light fixtures, and the gleaming exotic hardwood stalls. Instead, her focus was on deep breathing. She would not cry. Not here. Not with Daniel waiting at their table, wondering if she’d lost her senses. And definitely not because of one more insult laid upon her by Greg Cameron.

And Vanessa? Photographic memory for names and phone numbers or not, Jessie should have let Meryl fire her like she’d wanted to.

The thought of siccing Meryl on Vanessa brightened Jessie’s mood. The thought of doing the firing herself brightened it more. If Vanessa believed for one minute she was going to walk to work at Jessie’s vet hospital from Jessie’s house, she was sorely mistaken.

Braced by the resolve to throw as big a monkey wrench into Greg and Vanessa’s plans as possible, Jessie decided to enjoy the rest of her evening with Daniel even if it killed her.

She snatched several tissues from an abalone box on the marble counter and risked a look in the mirror. Not as bad as she’d feared. She pressed the tissues to the corners of her eyes then to her nose.

The door swung open. An elegant woman in a cream dress that perfectly matched the color of her hair entered. She cast a curious glance at Jessie before averting her eyes and going about her business.

Jessie took a deep breath and tossed the tissues. She charged through the door.

And slammed into Daniel.

He caught her shoulders to steady her. “I paid the check.” He held out her purse, which she’d left hanging on the back of her chair. “Let’s go home.”

JESSIE RESTED HER FOREHEAD against the cool glass of the passenger side window and watched as the lights of houses