Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
Charlee had insisted on moving Lola's things into the apartment over the bar that morning, and Lola had to admit it was rather nice to be in a space she could think of as all her own, instead of the Jones' B she'd seen that from the corner of her eye, and now she got a good look at him. He was slim but strongly built, with white hair swept back from a widow's peak and a cascade of gentle wrinkles. He wore a beard, short and well-kept, and a suit that spoke of good taste and the money to support it.
Lola put a hand out, fumbling for something to hold on to, and planted her palm against the pristine glass display case. Imelda made a perfectly reasonable indignant sound at that, but it was all that kept Lola from falling, because as Sam Todd's sharp blue eyes met hers for the first time in fifty years, all she could think was, He hasn't changed a bit.