“We’re expanding,” Dominique said. “Second location, hopefully by year’s end. Trent’s been incredible with the financial strategy. He sees possibilities before anyone else does.”
I almost admired her.
That kind of faith in a bad man takes either deep love or a complete inability to imagine yourself as the fool in the story.
Then Vanessa stepped into the circle.
Vanessa had been Dominique’s best friend since high school. She was elegant without trying too hard and one of the few women in my family orbit who had never gone out of her way to wound me. Her husband, David, was the city’s lead legal counsel on several sensitive matters and exactly the sort of married man who should have known better than to leave a digital trail.
Vanessa hugged Dominique and said, “We need to nail down Aspen.”
Dominique kissed the air beside her cheek.
“Yes. Absolutely. You and David are impossible to schedule.”