Sweet Violet and a Time for Love Read Online Free Page A

why I paged you. You know what to do with this one, Ms. Social Worker, so I’m leaving her in your hands. I have a gunshot coming in and I’m going to need this room soon since it looks like we’re filling up tonight. Thanks for handling this.”
    Without another word, she broke into a jog and headed back to the action by the main desk. I watched her disappear and then turned my attention back to the dancing woman. Her steps and swirls had eased somewhat and her mouth moved in silence as her head rocked back and forth.
    â€œMa’am?” I called out gently. She smiled and curtsied but shut her eyes. She opened them and turned to face a corner of the room and began whispering to the wall. I tried to make out her words, but they were indistinguishable. I inhaled, trying to see if I picked up any smell of alcohol or marijuana. Nothing.
    â€œMa’am?” I called out again. “You must be worn out from all that dancing. You can have a seat if you like, and I can get you some water or some ginger ale. Ma’am?” I took a step toward her. Her whispering seemed to lower in response to my movement.
    Leon should be home by now. I imagined him stepping out of the shower, pulling one of his white T-shirts over his head, smelling like Dove soap. He’d probably be wearing his green pajama bottoms. In our bed. Waiting for me to join him. Another rumble of nausea rolled through my stomach. Oh, God. I swallowed hard and willed my intestines to cooperate. I cannot be pregnant.
    â€œMa’am?” Even I heard the sharp irritation in my tone. I softened my voice before I continued. “Ma’am, would you like to take a seat and I can bring you something to drink?”
    â€œOh, I’ll take a whiskey sour with extra ice, hold the cherry.” She turned to face me. “Whatchu havin’, sugar? Let me guess: a Long Island Iced Tea?” Her eyes were as bright and clear as the starlit night, and just as endless in their depth. “No, a martini,” she announced after studying me for a moment. “You look like you like them high-siddity drinks. Bonjour. Au revoir. Comment allez - vous. ” She giggled and curtsied again.
    â€œActually, I’m not a drinker, but have a seat. Let’s talk.” I slid a plastic chair over to her and then sat in one myself. I kept the curtain open and nodded at a security guard who watched us from a distance. The woman eyed me with a half smile and then sat down in the seat I offered.
    â€œWe’ve met before, haven’t we?” A distant memory nudged my consciousness as I stared at the blue housecoat, the worn, dirty slippers. “My wedding day. You knocked on the window of the bakery where I had my reception.”
    The woman smiled at me, but then looked away. “Step one, step two, step three, step four,” she whispered and bobbed her head and patted her feet to a beat only she heard.
    â€œYou are quite a dancer. I don’t think I could keep up with you.” I smiled back as I thought through every word I said. There were many ways to handle this situation, and many ways it could go off course. I could feel the narrow open window I had at the moment and I could not afford to let it slam shut. “How old are you?” I asked.
    â€œShhhhh.” The woman put a finger to her lips and hushed me.
    â€œHow old are you?” I tried again, this time in a whisper.
    The woman’s eyes narrowed as she scowled. “Didn’t your momma teach you not to ask a lady that question?”
    I held my breath as she glared at me, but then her eyes relaxed. “You got a cigarette, sugar? It appears that I left my purse at home.” She began digging into the pockets of her housecoat then stuck her hand between her breasts, fishing.
    â€œWhere’s home?” I pushed my chair back a little. No telling what that woman could have hidden in her bosom. I looked over at the security guard. He took the