Read Dance, The (The Restoration Series Book #1): A Novel for Free Online

pretending to be just another shopper in the store. But she had to stay behind the register.
    She kept her eyes on Sophie and her friend for the next five minutes as they strolled leisurely through the store aisles, picking up this thing or that. They seemed to be having a marvelous time. During those moments, Marilyn got hold of herself. She decided she didn’t care what Sophie thought. Why should she feel embarrassed working at a retail store, or anywhere else for that matter? She needed the money because of her . . . new circumstances. But even if she didn’t, she was enjoying herself. She’d been wanting to work here for months.
    Finally, Sophie appeared from the last aisle in the store, carrying one of the many collectible angels, and headed towardthe cash register. She was still talking with her friend when she looked up and saw Marilyn. A startled look came over her face. She looked up and down, as if to persuade herself that she really was seeing Marilyn Anderson standing behind the cash register. Her eyes zeroed in on Marilyn’s name tag. “Marilyn,” she said as she set the figurine on the counter. “What are you doing here?”
    “I’m working here. Just started today, as a matter of fact.”
    “Really.” Sophie’s eyes widened, forming little wrinkles on her forehead. She quickly recovered and forced a smile. “How nice.”
    “Sophie,” her friend said, “I think I’m going to go back and get that other angel we were looking at.” She walked back to the last aisle.
    Sophie leaned over the counter and said quietly, “I heard Jim’s business has been struggling lately, from things Harold said.” She left the next sentence unspoken, but Marilyn was sure it was supposed to be, But I had no idea things were this bad . Harold was Sophie’s husband. He served on the deacon board with Jim, and they occasionally golfed together.
    “Actually, Sophie,” Marilyn replied in the same quiet tone, “me working here has nothing to do with Jim’s business. It’s something I wanted to do. And I might as well tell you—you’re going to find out soon enough—Jim and I are separated.”
    The look on Sophie’s face was priceless.
    Just then, her friend came back with her angel. “Will that be all for you ladies?” Marilyn said. She rang up their purchases, hoping she did everything right at the register. Not another word was said. At least not until the two women exited the store. Immediately after, Marilyn saw Sophie through the front window, her mouth moving a mile a minute, certainly filling her friend in on the news.
    Harriet came walking from the back hallway, carrying a small stack of boxes. “So how did your first sale go at the register?”
    “I think it went . . . just fine,” Marilyn said, smiling. A few lines from that song “Something to Talk About” began playing in her head.

 7 
    F or the past two hours, Jim had been roaming the streets and apartment parking lots throughout River Oaks in search of Marilyn’s car. It seemed absurd that he hadn’t found it yet. He began to wonder if she might have lied about staying somewhere in town.
    His search had brought him back to Main Street, where he was now stopped at a traffic light. Two well-dressed, middle-aged women crossed the intersection in front of his car. At first, he didn’t recognize them. When they reached the sidewalk, one of them turned and hurried back to his car, waving.
    “Jim Anderson,” she said. “I thought that was you.” She talked so loudly, he heard her through his closed windows. It was Sophie Mitchell, his friend Harold’s wife. He could stomach time spent with Harold, as long as they had a round of golf between them. But Sophie was another matter. She had always been Marilyn’s responsibility. He looked up at the light, wishing it would turn green, then lowered his passenger window. “Hi, Sophie.”
    “Well, look, I know you’ve got to go. Just wanted to say how sorry I am about you and Marilyn. Does