Free Shine Your Love on Me by Jean C. Joachim Page B

out, holding her
stomach. When she uttered the word, the hysterical laughter was
refueled.
    Whit got the message. He blushed and bowed
again, backing out of the room. “I think I’ll leave you ladies to
your…your…party.” He was gone before they could force him to answer
anything.
    Once he left, the women quieted down. Brooke,
drunk with wine and laughter, smiled. The warmth of friendship
flowed through her. The support from her friends put her plight
into perspective. I’ll find something. I’ll get that rat.
Frank’ll sue the pants off that cheating liar. “I’m gonna do
it.” Brooke pushed up and grabbed the table to steady herself.
    The others looked at her.
    “I’m gonna find something else, and I’m gonna
have my cousin, Frank, sue that bastard. I’m gonna make him
pay.”
    “Way to go!” Rory raised a fist in the
air.
    “I’m gonna make him wish he was dickless,”
Brooke continued.
    “Hell, he is dickless,” Miranda
said.
    “Bring down the dickless wonder!” Bess
shouted.
    The women pulled themselves together then
called their dogs. The pugs rose reluctantly from their comfortable
spots. Bess passed out treats. Everyone except Brooke was all right
to travel home alone.
    Bess called to Whit. “I’ll take Dumpling and
walk Brooke home.”
    “I’m going with you,” he said.
    After hugs all around, the party broke up.
Brooke could barely see straight. She leaned on Whit, who guided
her and Bess down the street. She left them at her door as she
climbed the stairs, focusing intently on each step.
    Inside her apartment, she stripped off her
clothes, wrapped herself in one of Rory’s afghans, and fell asleep
on the sofa.

Chapter Six
     
     
    Saturday morning, the sun poked Brooke in the
eye at seven. She pulled the blanket over her head, but that didn’t
stop the pounding.
    “Shit. Hangover,” she muttered, forcing
herself up to go to the bathroom. She winced at the image she saw
in the mirror. Brown circles under her bloodshot eyes. Her
complexion was sallow, and her hair a greasy mess.
    “I have a date tonight. Great,” she groaned.
All she wanted to do was crawl back in bed. And stay there for two
or three years. After medicating herself with coffee and a few
ibuprofen, she did go back to sleep, waking up at one in the
afternoon.
    She remembered the conversation about suing
her former boss. Brooke called her cousin, Frank, and
explained.
    “You know I love you, Brooke, but you want me
to handle another case with no pay.”
    “Frank, how can I pay you? I’m out of work.”
Her head began to pound.
    “A contingent case. Terrific. And these kind
are the hardest to prove. You have no evidence, and you want me to
drop everything and do this? I’m sorry, but I can’t. I feel for
you. This rotten bastard deserves the worst. But I can’t do it. I
can hardly keep up with my workload now. I’ve got Melanie and the
kids, Brooke. You’ve only got you. Find someplace else to work.
Another profession, job, something.”
    “Yeah. Okay. I get it.” She closed her cell.
“Thanks for nothing, Frank,” she said to no one.
    Trying to remember what had been discussed
the night before about her wardrobe, she opened the closet and
fished around until she spied a swatch of her favorite color
stuffed away in the back. Melon, peach, that perfect blend of pink
and orange. There it was.
    She pulled out everything in the way until
she could close her fingers around the snippet. Then, she tugged,
and it slipped out from behind an old coat.
    “I thought I’d lost you,” she said, brushing
off the vintage dress, one of her favorites from her mom. It was
wrinkled, but hadn’t faded much. The color was still soft and
pretty. One sniff told her it was too musty to wear. She pulled
down the iron and put a towel on her tiny table, before she washed
the garment in the sink. Though her head no longer throbbed, she
kept music off, simply humming to herself a few songs by The Mamas
and the Papas as she