Jennie’s mind wouldn’t settle. Bennett didn’t ask his question again, and he didn’t turn on the radio. The silence between them felt suffocating, and Jennie hated it.
But she also hated that she couldn’t answer his question easily.
“I don’t know,” she finally said. “I’m here for now, and the money from Mabel’s job will be enough for a few more months.” She looked at him, mentally begging him to understand. “But there’s not much use for me here. I’m an artist, and a high-end one at that.”
“Open a gallery,” he said.
“Here?”
“Sure. There’s that posh place on Wedding Row.”
“They do photography,” she said. “And sure, it’s expensive, but brides will pay for pictures. They don’t pay for wedding day pottery.” She looked out the window, wishing her attitude about staying in town wasn’t so fat
