Security is an insipid thing. William Congreve, Love for Love The necklace was gone. Claire rubbed her forehead, pushing back her mobcap. This had to be a mistake. She missed the baubles somewhere amongst the roasted coffee beans. Look again. She stood on tiptoe at her counter, digging deeper in the ceramic jar. Hard, roasted coffee beans trickled through her fingers, but the pale aquamarine stones failed to show. She looked wildly around the shop, not more than a dozen patrons sat within the brick walls, sipping their midday brew. Did someone take them? Frantic hands dumped the weighty, earthen vessel upside down. Brown beans clattered across the counter and some fell to the floor. Inside the jar? Nothing. Numb, she stared into the distance, grateful for the counter holding her up. Rain blew across Cornhill, squalls of wetness smearing the front window.
What do You think about Lady Meets Her Match (2015)?
