As Zandra drove to Emmett’s office, she couldn’t help wonder if she was making a mistake.

“No,” she told herself. “You made your decision, now stick to it. It’s a good decision. An amazingly inspired decision, girl.”

She tuned her satellite radio to the Broadway station to kill the time for the ten minutes it took to get to his office. Zandra angled into a parking space in front of the shop then realized she hadn’t thought to glance in the back for his truck where he always parked it.

With such beautiful early summer weather, there was no need to have the shell on her vehicle, so the dogs were able to stick their heads over and drool onto the pavement to their hearts’ content. Emmett had built a frame that fit into the bed that basically extended the walls up to the dogs’ necks, because otherwise the bed was too shallow and a sharp curve could send them toppling overboard.

“I’ll be back in five minutes, pups. Take it easy here until I get back.”

Zandra set some bells jingling as she pushed open the door of the showroom. The sight of the stone countertops Emmett had on display gave her chills every time. The man was an artist and marble and granite were his media. No cutting and pasting random slabs of mountain for him. When Emmett finished a piece, it was as if he had drawn it out and cast it in the shape and the design it was meant to be. There were no unsightly seams. The most beautiful, remarkable aspect of each piece was always displayed front and center on a peninsula or most noticeable part of an island. The far corners and backsplash was where he tucked the more plain pieces, casting their basic appearance on the piece as a whole and really making the gorgeous bits stand out even more.

If Zandra could craft words and music like her husband did stone, she’d be Andrew Lloyd Weber.

Stacie, the secretary, came into the showroom, smiled and said, “Hey, Zandra.”

“Hi, Stacie. Love your top! It makes your gorgeous eyes look like sapphires.”

Stacie grinned widely. She was really nice, and super attractive—like Barbie Doll hot—but she wasn’t the greatest secretary. On various occasions, Emmett had commented on it. Messages forgotten or mis-transcribed. People who called with questions often couldn’t get their basic questions answered unless Emmett or one of the foremen were around. And she spent as much time on social media as she did doing actual office work.

Zandra had often wondered why he kept her around. It would be a different story if she was good at her job and super attractive—Zandra didn’t hold her drop dead gorgeousness against her—but the fact that she wasn’t very good at the job they paid her to do always made Zandra scratch her head. She hadn’t said anything to Emmett or asked about it, but he had volunteered at one point that people paying that much money on their home, expected a certain image for everyone in the company and that often started with the secretary.

Canis Amare obviously believed in the same principle, if Cason was any indication of the other coaches.

“Hey, is Emmett around?” asked Zandra. “Is he in a meeting, or can I grab him for a minute?” A thought came that she should have brought lunch or a snack, but she shook it off. She didn’t need an excuse to pop in and see her husband.

All these nerves about her relationship grew heavier the longer the little things went unresolved.

“I don’t think so,” said Stacie. “He told me he was taking off about half an hour ago.”

“Oh,” answered Zandra, wondering if Stacie was confused or had misheard what he’d said. “Is anyone in meetings back in the consultation room?”

“No. Door’s open. Emmett left and the guys are on installs all day. You can go take a peek if you want.”

It was nice of Stacie to offer, even though Zandra didn’t need permission from anyone to go back to her husband’s office. She did say, “Thanks,” as she walked into the short hallway.

Zandra pulled out her phone and opened the location app. Sure enough, Emmett was there in the office, but when she turned the corner she saw an empty chair in front of his Carrara marble desk. For the first time in that room, she didn’t feel like sprawling out on the desk and rubbing her hands along its luxuriousness; she was too perplexed.

It didn’t make any sense. According to the app they were standing right next to each other.

Hey, Studly, she texted. You in the workshop creating another unbelievable piece of art?

Seconds after she sent it, something in the desk drawer buzzed.

The bottom fell out of Zandra’s stomach.