Chapter 13 - THE MARINA RENDEZVOUS
The old marina warehouse stood abandoned against the dark, choppy waters of the harbor, smelling of salt and damp wood.
Damon’s rented sedan pulled up beside the rusted loading dock, its headlights cutting through the foggy maritime air.
He stepped out, wearing his unbuttoned navy blue blazer, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of trouble.
A pair of headlights swept across the gravel as Clara’s compact car pulled up right beside the loading bay.
She stepped out wearing a dark trench coat, her hair no longer pinned back elegantly, but blowing wild in the wind.
They met halfway between their vehicles, the distance between them charged with a volatile mix of history and betrayal.
"You look different," Damon noted quietly, his gaze tracing the fierce, unyielding expression on her face.
"Weddings tend to change a person," Clara shot back sharply, crossing her arms against the cold harbor breeze.
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"I'm sorry for how I handled it, Clara. I should have told you privately instead of making a public spectacle," he apologized.
"A private conversation wouldn't have stripped my mother of her corporate immunity, Damon. You did what you had to do."
