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“I’m really the last person you should be asking, but sure.I’ll help.”

Violet sighed. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t the faintest idea how to helpyou. Want to come to my house and look at my closet? It’ll give us a place tostart.”

“That sounds perfect.”

* * *

Jenna’s town house was relatively new, with comfortablefurniture and hardwood floors. She had a few scattered rugs, artwork on thewalls and extra shelving in the kitchen for her impressive collection ofcookware.

The built-in, under-the-counter wine cellar and stainless steelappliances were about as far from Violet’s somewhat run-down apartment as it waspossible to get while staying in the same city.

Violet sat at the stool by the bar counter and wondered what itwould be like to live like this for real. To have no need for extra locks, whileenjoying garage parking for her car. The differences were both inspiring anddepressing.

She accepted the glass of white wine Jenna offered, then waitedwhile her boss shuffled through the contents of the refrigerator. In a matter ofminutes she had loaded a plate with various cheeses, some cut fruit, and a dipshe’d whipped up using sun-dried tomatoes and some mystery ingredients, andwater crackers.

Violet eyed the offering. “Your life really is perfect,” shesaid without thinking.

Jenna nearly choked on her wine. “Excuse me? I’m getting adivorce, my husband cheated on me, I’ve just turned thirty-two, I have no kids,I own nothing and if not for you, my business would have failed.”

Violet nodded slowly. “When you put it like that.”

They both laughed.

Jenna held out her glass. “Today was a good day. Thankyou.”

“It was good and tomorrow will be better.”

They clinked glasses.

“If you’re right,” Jenna said, “then I’m going to break out mycomfortable shoes. My feet are killing me.”

“Retail is all about standing.”

“Robyn’s on to something with her knitting,” Jenna grumbled.“She gets to do it sitting down.”

“It’s worse,” Violet said cheerfully. “Have you seen herfiancé? He’s gorgeous.”

“Some people have all the luck.” She picked up the tray offood. “Come on. We can eat while you ponder my wardrobe. Please don’t get yourhopes up, though. You’ll be wildly disappointed.”

The two bedrooms were upstairs. The smaller one, just off thestairs, was mostly empty. Jenna led the way down the short hall to themaster.

They entered through double doors. The space was large. Evenwith the bed, dresser and two nightstands, she had room to hold an aerobicsclass. French doors led out onto a balcony. Violet didn’t care if the view wasonly of a parking lot. No one she knew had a balcony off their bedroom. She hada feeling the master bath would be about the size of her entire bedroom, thennearly fainted when she saw the walk-in closet.

“Nice,” she murmured.

“More than I need,” Jenna said, as she put the tray on thedresser and set her wine next to it. “I’m not big on clothes. Plus, working in arestaurant means wearing a uniform of sorts. Black pants, white jacket. I’d puton a T-shirt underneath. Not exactly high fashion.”

Jenna joined Violet at the entrance to the closet and turned onthe light. Shirts and pants hung on double racks. Dresses hung at one end. Boxesof shoes sat on shelves, and what looked like eight or ten white kitchen coatsstayed dust-free in dry cleaner bags.

“My former life,” Jenna said, touching the plastic.

Violet couldn’t decide if she sounded wistful or just plainsad. “Do you miss it?”

“Sometimes. Working in a restaurant kitchen is crazy. Orderscome in together, there are too many people in too small a space. There’s lotsof yelling and swearing. But making people happy is great. I loved being part ofthe celebrations. Someone’s anniversary or birthday. It’s like they chose me tomake the event memorable.”

Jenna shrugged, ducking her head. “Not me personally. I’m notthat self-absorbed. But they came to where I worked and trusted me withsomething special. I liked that.”

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