Chapter 12: The Showroom

I read it twice.

Groom: Jason Hensley.

"He's still married to me," I said.

"I noticed that."

"At your Mill. My Mill. The place I bring every couple I've ever had."

"I can refund the hold," Grady said. "Tell them the date's gone."

I thought about Andrea's smile in the parking lot.

You'll be the girl who rented the chairs.

"Don't," I said. "Leave it on the books."

Grady looked at me for a long moment.

Then he put the phone away.

"Okay."

On Monday morning I drove to Hensley Floor & Tile.

The flagship showroom was on Henderson Road, a long glass building with the family name across the front in brushed steel.

His father had opened it in 1985 with one truck and a tile saw.

There was a photo of that truck by the front door.

I had arranged the lighting on that photo myself, the night of the showroom party where I met Jason.

I walked in at ten-fifteen.

The place was busy.

A young couple was comparing oak samples. A contractor was arguing about grout at the counter.

Two sales reps looked up when I came in, then looked at each other.

They'd seen the Instagram post.

Everybody had.

Jason was at the back, by the big kitchen display, walking an older couple through backsplash tiles.

He was smiling his customer smile.

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