Several minutes later, Janelle was out on the street, climbing inside Silas’s Ferrari 812. “Fancy wheels,” she commented. “I remember a time when you were driving a beat-up Pontiac with holes in the floor.”
Silas snorted. “Thankfully, those days are long behind me.” He started the engine, and the car purred to life.
They were both silent on the way to his restaurant. For her part, Janelle was trying to make sense of what had happened in the photo studio. She was angry with Silas. Had been for years. How could she not be? He hadn’t been willing to give their marriage a chance to survive. Instead, he’d thrown the baby out with the bathwater.
Though admittedly, there had been times she wondered if she’d done the right thing. The only reason she’d gone to the modeling agency was to find out if they’d been pulling her leg or whether they really could offer her enough money to help Silas’s restaurant dreams get off the ground. She’d been doing it for them. But he hadn’t seen it that way. He’d called her selfish.
The Ferrari 812 pulled into a space labeled Reserved, and Janelle watched Silas jump out and come around to her door. Well, he still had manners, she thought as she accepted the proffered hand and stepped out of the low-slung sports car.
He walked ahead of her toward the high-end, modern restaurant but only long enough to open the door, and then his hand was at the small of her back, leading her through the establishment. Silas spoke with and waved to his employees but didn’t stop to introduce her. Instead, he ushered Janelle into a beautiful room overlooking a small lake and closed the door.
“This is incredible, Silas.” Janelle said and she meant it. She was proud of his accomplishments, but they’d come at a price, because he’d achieved them without her.
“Thank you. Silas Tucker Steak is my latest restaurant. I’d been wanting to honor the traditions of classic steakhouse fare with my own Southern twist, and I think this place does it. Julian and Elyse Lockett are frequent diners.”
“I’m sure it’s delicious.” When he was in culinary school, there had been nothing Silas wouldn’t cook. And Janelle had eaten it all. Back then, she’d always appreciated his willingness to try new things and hoped they would get a chance to travel the world and expand their horizons together. She’d never thought she would have ended up doing it alone.
“How about some wine first?” Silas asked, motioning to a table near the window.
And just as if he’d snapped his fingers, a waiter came in with a bottle of red wine. Her favorite. So, he remembered…
After the waiter poured them each a glass, he departed, leaving them alone. Janelle lifted her glass. “Should we toast to our divorce?”
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