Chapter 11
The drive to Squirrel Hill in Sewickley, the suburb of Pittsburgh where the Morgans had their party and Andrew Carnegie and his ilk had once roamed the streets, retained the feel of the Gilded Age. Charlotte could practically smell old money. The brick building that was now a bank but read Car Barn had been where original cars were sold in the 1800s. Across from that was a yoga studio, Talbot’s, and of course, the jewelry store. The main street had a farmer's market on the weekend she’d been to years ago, when she’d gone out on a Saturday.
Maybe when she married Jack, if this was all real, she’d have Saturday mornings to do as she pleased. That might be nice.
Now mattered more though.
Alone in the car with Jack was the best. They sang songs the whole way.
But… she’d never b
