“Hey, there.” Riley gave her a wide smile. “Quinn, right?”
“Yes. Nice to see you again.” Quinn returned her smile, then pointed to the ladder. “You can’t drive like that. It’s not safe.”
“They couldn’t deliver this week, and I need a ladder or I’ll get nothing done. It’s only a short drive and I secured it, so it can’t slip out the back. I’ll be careful.”
“But it could go through your windshield or worse—into your head if another car hits it from the side.”
“Oh.” Riley sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t thought of that.” She looked deflated as she stood there in a tight pencil skirt and white shirt, balancing on her ridiculously high heels.
Quinn’s gaze lowered to her calves, and when she realized she was staring, she quickly looked up to meet Riley’s eyes. That didn’t help either; the woman was simply gorgeous. Her brown eyes had an intensity to them Quinn had rarely seen. Or maybe she was really stressed; it was hard to tell. “I’ll take it back in my truck. I’m headed that way anyway.”
“Really?” Riley let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” She held her gaze and regarded Quinn. “Is everyone so nice in Mystic?”
“Not everyone.” Quinn grinned. “But generally speaking, yes. It’s a hell of a lot friendlier than New York.”
“How do you know I’m from New York?”
Oops. Quinn felt busted. “People are nice, but they also talk. I’m close friends with Lindsey, the realtor. She told me you’d bought Aster House,” she admitted as she unbuckled the ratchet straps and carefully pulled the ladder out of the car. “So I know where we’re going.”
“Oh, okay…” Riley helped her lift the ladder into the back of her truck. “Lindsey seems lovely. She invited me to the town hall meeting tomorrow. That was so thoughtful of her.”
“Yes, she’s a peach. Sorry about the gossip, though, but you might as well get used to it. It’s rarely malicious.”
Riley shook her head as she brushed her hands off on her skirt. “I don’t mind. To be honest, I kind of expected it from a small town.” She gestured to the truck. “Do you need the straps?”
“No, this will do.” Quinn winked at Riley and got into her pickup. “I’ll follow you so you can open the gates for me.” She was in two minds as she started the engine. She’d be inside those gates again, and that caused a stir of excitement, yet she knew it was just some morbid way of torturing herself, like getting a whiff of a delicious cake she wasn’t allowed to eat or crushing on a straight woman.
The road was quiet, and the drive back didn’t allow much time to prepare herself for the nostalgia that hit her when she pulled into the driveway. The shutters of the living room windows were open, but the rest were still closed, and the paint on the front door was peeling, she saw, as she slammed the door of her pickup closed and looked up. The whole facade needed a new lick of paint and some TLC, but other than that it stood as sturdy and proud as ever.
“It’s so big,” Riley said with a sigh as she lifted the ladder out of Quinn’s truck and leaned it against one of the porch pillars.
“Too big for you?”
“Honestly, yes. But it’s my own fault. I should have viewed it before I bought it.” Riley shrugged. “Anyway, it is what it is, and I’ll make it work. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do than doing it up.”
“You don’t work?” Quinn asked.
“No. Not anymore.” Riley didn’t elaborate, so Quinn didn’t inquire further. From the look on Riley’s face, it was a touchy subject.
“Do you need some help with that other stuff in your car?” she asked, noting bags were stacked up high on the back seat.
“I’ll take care of it later, there’s no rush.” Riley’s lips curled up into a smile. “Would you like to come in for a coffee?”
“A coffee?” Quinn stared at her as if she’d never heard the word before. She hadn’t expected that question; not from a New Yorker.Don’t torture yourself. “Sure,” she heard herself say. “Let me take this in for you.” She took the ladder while Riley opened the door, taking a deep breath before she entered.
The grand hallway hadn’t changed much. The feature staircase still had its original red runner, and her grandmother’s crystal chandelier, which had been too large to remove, was sparkling overhead. It looked empty and hollow, though, with the lack of basic furniture. There used to be coat stands by the door, a console with a big, gilded mirror against the left wall, and an antique bench next to a big statue of a tiger on the right side. She left the ladder there and followed Riley into the kitchen; here, too, things were pretty much the same.
“It needs updating,” Riley said as she turned on her Nespresso coffee maker that stood out like a sore thumb against the original tile backsplash. “But the layout works, and I love the old stove, so I might keep that.” She made a coffee for Quinn and put cream and sugar on the kitchen island.
“Are you planning on changing a lot?” Quinn asked.
“As much as I can. I’ll hire professionals to do the big jobs, like renovating the kitchen and bathrooms and updating the heating system, but I’m planning on doing everything else myself with the help of YouTube and endless trial and error.”
“That’s brave.”
“I just need something to do.” Riley turned back to the coffee maker while she waited for her own cup to fill. “Shall we go into the living room? I don’t have any furniture in here yet.”
9
