“These are the best egg rolls,” Venus said, nearly moaning with delight. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a better one. I need to have this restaurant on speed dial. I have a feeling I’ll be ordering takeout at least once a week.”
“You act as though this is a luxury,” Simon observed, watching her intently.
She ducked her head and flushed, embarrassment tightening her cheeks.
“My apologies,” Simon said in a quiet voice. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
She shook her head. “I’m being ridiculously sensitive. But you’re right. It is—or rather was—a luxury. It was one that I couldn’t afford after my divorce. I work, or rather worked, long hours to make as much money as possible so I could open my own food place. I spent what was absolutely necessary to pay for rent, utilities and groceries. Ea
