LITMIR.BIZ

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      “HE STILL OUT THERE?” Jenna McBride watched as her business partner, Candice Hammond, crossed in front of the waterfall fountain in the hospital’s new atrium lobby.

      “Short guy?” asked Candice, her high heels clicking on the freshly finished sienna tile floor. “Balding. Doesn’t know polyester is dead?” She spoke loudly enough to be heard above the rushing water.

      “That’s him.” Jenna snapped her pencil into the clasp at the top of her Canna Interiors clipboard. The closed-for-construction lobby was nearly empty now that most of the workers had left for the day. “Where on earth did Brandon find that guy?”

      Jenna’s partner in Canna Interiors arched her perfect eyebrows, her dark lips curving up in a half smile that revealed the dimple in her left cheek. “One-nine-hundred aging gumshoe?”

      Jenna shook her head and raked her auburn, shoulder-length hair back from her forehead. She was hot from working all day, and a fine sheen of sweat dampened her hairline.

      “I can’t believe he’s still trying.” She’d finally broken off her engagement to Brandon four months ago. Then she’d moved from Boston to Seattle to put some distance between them.

      “You always did live in denial,” said Candice as she settled on the bench facing the fountain, crossing one stocking-clad leg over the other. “Ol’ Brandon’s like the Energizer Bunny.”

      “Not in bed,” scoffed Jenna, surprising herself with the moment of pithy honesty.

      Candice’s eyes lit up with newfound admiration and humor. She sat slightly forward. “You’ve come a long way, baby.”

      “Because I no longer think the sun rises and sets on Brandon Rice?” Jenna took a seat at the opposite end of the bench, curling one denim-covered calf beneath the opposite leg and setting her clipboard down next to her purse.

      It was embarrassing to realize she’d been taken in so easily, and for such a long time. Naive and gullible. Book smart and life stupid. That was Jenna.

      “Because you can finally admit he was a loser in bed,” said Candice, gazing at the water as it foamed against the natural rocks and sculpted mortar. Her short, chic hair curled against the collar of her jacket.

      “It was kind of hard to tell in the thick of things,” said Jenna. She eased off her loafers, wiggling her toes.

      The high ceiling fans sent a light breeze wafting down, but the mid-June sunshine had warmed the atrium.

      Candice fought a smirk.

      “It’s not like I’d done any comparison shopping,” Jenna added. “I was barely twenty-two when we met.”

      She was twenty-six now. And, thanks to Candice, she had a second chance on life. A chance that didn’t include becoming Mrs. Brandon Rice—properly behaved trophy wife. Or was that properly behaved lap dog? Hard to know for sure.

      “You don’t need vast personal experience to know three minutes is pathetic,” said Candice, giving her head a shake and rattling her silver earrings. “You just need the public library.” She cocked her head, contemplating the newly finished fountain. “You think the whale is too much?”

      “The whale is perfect,” said Jenna, turning her attention to the brightly painted stone sculpture spouting beneath the waterfall, which was surrounded by tropical plants.

      Forget uptight, three-minute Brandon, the kids were going to love that whale. The hospital board had asked for something with child-appeal when they’d given Canna Interiors the contract to decorate the pediatric lobby. Other than

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