“Home.” Hannah curled her lip. “As if we all live together. We don’t. She has her apartment in the attic. She should stay there.”
“Hannah,” Ethan said, surprised. “I thought you liked Zoe.”
Hannah shrugged and scowled at the same time. It had been a long, stressful day and because they were going to the gallery, it was about to get even longer. Now wasn’t the time to talk about his relationship with Zoe.
Fortunately, Hannah changed the subject. “What did the doctors say about Dezi?”
“They need to run some tests to find out what happened.”
“But he’ll be okay, though?”
“I’m not sure,” Ethan hedged. He desperately wanted to be able to tell his daughter that Dezi was fine, but he didn’t know what had happened or what was about to happen. “I bet Frankie will let us know as soon as she can.” He put his hand on Hannah’s shoulder to guide her through the busy emergency room.
#
AKNOCK ON THE DOORinterrupted Zoe’s bedtime ritual. She rinsed off her toothbrush, gave herself a quick glance in the mirror to make sure her makeup remover hadn’t given her raccoon eyes, and went to let Ethan in.
He looked even more tired than she felt.
She motioned for him to come inside. He fell onto her sofa, clearly exhausted.
“I’m sorry for coming by so late,” he said, even though it was only nine-thirty. “I know you go to bed early so you can be up and baking before dawn.”
“It’s okay. I was hoping you’d come by and give me news on Desmond.” She dropped onto the sofa beside him. “What did you find out?”
“It was a heart attack. Frankie, that’s his daughter, blames the gallery. According to her, it’s been struggling financially for years.”
“Oh, dear.” She took his hand and he laced his fingers with hers.
“It gets worse. The gallery break-in? It was all a hoax. Desmond staged it to collect the insurance money.”
Zoe gasped. “So, did they recover all the art?”
He grimaced. “What Desmond wasn’t able to sell.”
“What about Tomato Face?”
His expression lightened. “Harold is fine and back in my possession.” He paused. “Frankie asked me if I wanted to buy the gallery.”
“And?”
“It’s been what I wanted, but now...” He shrugged.
“And why would you want to if it’s losing money?”
“But I’m not sure it would lose money if I owned it. I would...well, I had lots of ideas, but now—”
“You just spent all that money on the basement renovations.”
He nodded.
“If it’s any consolation, Mrs. Hancock came by today. She’s thrilled with the new apartment.”
His expression marginally brightened. “When will she move in?”
“After the holidays.”
She bit her lip, considering. Should she offer to pay for the renovations? Could she do that? What would Grandma or Courtney say? They wouldn’t be happy.
