“Amazing how you can glide on a metal blade an eighth of an inch thick, but you can’t manage to walk in a straight line.”
“Yeah, amazing.”
“Excellent job, everyone. You looked great.” Madame Miller paused the music. “I see we already have a couple in here who’s eager to get a start on reviewing how to partner one another. Fantastic.”
All the heads in the room turned in the direction of Frankie and Charlie.
“See how nice and upright they are. This is exactly what I’d like you all to aim for. The only thing that could use improving is for them to be closer. You two should almost be touching. Ballroom dancing is about creating nice long lines and intimate connections.”
Frankie groaned internally. How was she going to make it through the next hour?
CHAPTER 15
Lake Wakahanra’s antique market took place on the second and fourth Sundays of every month in the center of town. White tented booths were packed tightly together, displaying vintage trinkets, antique furniture, delicate porcelain dolls, weathered books, and jewelry. The air was filled with the scent of aged wood and lavender.
“An antique market?” Frankie teased Charlie.
“Blame my nan.” He shrugged. “Antiquing is one of her hobbies. She uses me as the muscle”—Charlie flexed his biceps—“to carry whatever she ends up buying.”
Frankie’s body shook with laughter. She tried to picture what his grandmother might look like. She imagined that she might be a sweet older woman with a short silver bob.
“Uh-huh.” Frankie gestured to the tables. “I bet ninety percent of the things for sale here weigh less than five pounds.”
“Okay, so maybe it’s wishful thinking.”
“Yeah.” She shook her head and laughed. “Is there anything specific we’re looking for today?”
“A birthday gift for Nan.” Charlie ran a hand through his hair. “Les and I wanted to get her something unique. Whenever she’s brought me here, we’ve found some unexpected things. I thought it might be a good place to start.”
If we don’t find anything here, I can ask Dad.
Frankie could have sworn she’d caught him researching antique shops on the internet a few days ago, but when she’d asked him, he’d brushed her off. Her father had been extra secretive lately. His dating life with the woman he’d met online had taken off. Today, he was taking her to a sip-and-paint class.
“What type of things does your grandma enjoy?”
Charlie stroked his jaw. “She has eccentric taste, but the one thing she always tells us is that it’s best to come to an antique market with an open mind and a budget. She looks for items that appear as if they have an interesting story to tell.”
Frankie twirled the end of her hair around her finger. “And your budget is . . .?”
“A grand?”
She stumbled. With the refined reflexes of a skater, he steadied her. “Woah, careful. I need you in one piece.”
“Thanks.” Frankie blushed, a mix of embarrassment and gratitude rushing through her. She dry swallowed. It was getting increasingly more difficult to not pay attention to the electric spark that coursed through her body every time their hands touched. Ignoring it on the ice was easy enough—they were there to work—but outside the rink was another story.
Finding her voice, she managed, “A grand is alotof money.”
“It is, but this is my nan. I don’t want to cheap out if we see something amazing.”
As they neared the end of the aisle, Frankie spotted a red-and-green jukebox. “Charlie, look!” she exclaimed, flinging her arm out to stop him. She accidentally hit his ribs.
“Ow. That hurt.” His gaze traveled up to the machine. His eyes started to twinkle. “That’s it!”
“Come on!” Frankie tugged on his shirt and dragged him toward the tent. “I wonder if it’s still in working order.”
“Even if it’s not, I bet we could find someone who could outfit it with new hardware or a turntable. Vinyl records are making a comeback.”
He was right. Her dad had been over the moon when they’d discovered them at the downtown Grizzly Springs bookshop. She remembered him bragging the entire way home about how his collection of vinyl records, and eight tracks was original.
