Free A Sin and a Shame by Victoria Christopher Murray Page B

you like this place.”
    “Yeah, I do.”
    “Good. My treat.” Mae Frances opened her purse. “Get whatever you like,” she said as she pulled out her wallet, “and bring me back—” She stopped. “Oh, shoot. I forgot to stop by the bank.”
    “No problem.” Jasmine opened the door. “I’ll get it.”
    “Thank you,” Mae Frances said, then asked Jasmine to buy her a venti coffee and two pastries. “I have a sweet tooth,” she added.
    In minutes, Jasmine was back, and Gerald sped toward the airport. “Thank you, Mae Frances. I really appreciate this.”
    Mae Frances’ smile was so warm it disarmed Jasmine. “I told you the other night, I’m just being neighborly.”
    Jasmine sipped her latte. “I have to admit, I’ve never had a neighbor quite like you.”
    Mae Frances leaned back and laughed so loud, it startled Jasmine. “You’re not the only one in our building who feels that way. I’m sure for years some of those old fogies have held meetings trying to figure out how to get rid of me.”
    “How long have you lived there?”
    As fast as it came, the woman’s laughter went away. “Sometimes I feel as if I’ve lived there as long as that building is old.” She sounded as if she was weighed down by years. “My husband and I settled there in nineteen sixty-four. I was the first Negro to live in that building.”
    The word made Jasmine flinch, but she said nothing at first. Wondered why Mae Frances had said “I.”
    “Wow, that’s forty years.”
    “I was a young bride.” Mae Frances sounded gruff again. “My husband had his medical practice on the first floor of the building when he first started.”
    A doctor? That explained the limousine, the mink, the diamonds that she sported.
    “What kind of doctor is your husband?”
    Her eyes flared, then softened. “Let’s talk about you. Where are you from?”
    “I was born and raised in Los Angeles, but I just moved here from Florida.”
    Mae Frances nodded. “And your family?”
    Jasmine’s face stretched with surprise. She was the one who was supposed to be doing the questioning. Still she answered, telling Mae Frances about her parents and Serena. And the next question came; Mae Frances asked if she were married. Then asked where she worked. The queries continued until the car eased in front of the Delta terminal. Only then did Jasmine realize that Mae Frances knew much about her, but she hadn’t uncovered too much of anything about her neighbor.
    “Well, Jasmine Larson,” Mae Frances began once the driver stepped from the car and opened the door. “Have a nice business trip.”
    “Thank you again.”
    The woman nodded. “By the way,” she began, “how did you like the dinner the other night?”
    The memory made Jasmine smile. “It was great. Thank you for that too.”
    “Then we can have dinner together when you get back. My treat since you treated me this morning,” Mae Frances said, holding up the Starbucks bag.
    Her first instinct was to say no, but then she looked at Mae Frances sitting so regally, head held high, back pressed against the seat. And when she peered a bit closer, there was something in the woman’s eyes that Jasmine hadn’t seen before. Sadness, loneliness, she wasn’t sure. “Dinner would be nice, Mae Frances.” She stepped from the car and took her bag from Gerald.
    Mae Frances pressed the button, lowering her window. “Let me know when you get back.”
    Jasmine paused for just a moment. “Yes…yes, ma’am.”
    Mae Frances’s eyes widened. She leaned back and laughed. Jasmine could still hear her laughter, even as she turned into the terminal.

Chapter 8
    J asmine was on top of the world.
    That’s the way she felt as she gazed out the tenth-floor window overlooking Doheny Drive. At first, Gabriella had booked her into a no-name hotel in the Valley. But she’d changed that. That was not the way she was going to return to Los Angeles.
    The ringing of the phone interrupted her thoughts.
    “Ms.