“I’m looking for a lamp for my new home office. I want something unique that’s different from what everyone else has.”
“Well, we have plenty of unique items here. What made you interested in buying second-hand?”
“Repurposed items feel more sustainable, kinder to the environment, which is something that’s important to me. I’m exhausted by consumerism.”
I nod. “I completely agree. My whole home is furnished with repurposed or secondhand pieces.”
Mostly because that’s all we can afford but I also like that we’re not adding to the growing environmental crisis that discarded furniture fuels. That was at the heart of why our parents started the thrift store and got into restoration in the first place.
When the shop was doing well, they’d donate any extra proceeds to environmental research charities.
“Let me show you our lighting section,” I say, gesturing for her to follow me.
Normally, I’m not on the shop floor—Natasha handles the day-to-day while I manage the website and inventory management—but today, I’d dropped in to help out since I didn’t have any therapy appointments lined up and to catch up with her about my meeting with Rebel. If I can help land a sale while I’m here, all the better.
This month has been tight with hardly any revenue now that colder weather has moved in, and it’s going to be difficult to meet our newly increased rent.
I make a mental note to discuss this with Gabriel when he gets home tonight as we weave through the aisles, past vintage tables and refurbished chairs, until we reach the corner of the store dedicated to lighting.
“These are the lamps that we currently have in stock. If none of these fit your style, we’d be happy to keep an eye out for something specific. We’re constantly adding new inventory. My older brother can restore pretty much anything, so if you find something on your own but want it changed, we can do that as well.”
She takes her time browsing the section, her fingers grazing the cool metal of a floor lamp designed to look like a waterfall, with adjustable arms that allow the bulbs to be directed in various angles. It’s definitely unique and a little bit funky.
She pulls it out for a closer look, tilting her head as if imagining it in her new space.
“Where’s your house in Brookhaven?”
She nods with her head. “Directly across from here on the other side of the lake. The two story with the wrap around porch."
"I bet that’s fun to sit on at night.”
She smiles. “It is, though it needs some upgrades. There’s also a dock that stretches down to the water for a boat but I’m not sure I’m cut out for boat life yet.”
“What kind of work do you do? It might help us narrow down what style lamp would suit your office best.”
She smiles, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear. “I’m a lawyer.”
And the second she says it, it all clicks. That’s why her name sounds so familiar.
Cain mentioned having a younger sister once in passing, and my bet is this is her.
Rosie Prescott.
She’d been on set the day Rebel filmed his music video, though I hadn’t realized who she was, or paid much attention to her at the time. And sure, there are thousands of lawyers in New York City, but none with green eyes like Cain’s. They’re the same ones that I’ve stared into many nights now.
She’s not just some random attorney making a pit stop in Brookhaven to pick up a vintage floor lamp. No, she’s here because I ignored Cain’s calls this morning and was too nervous to listen to the voicemail that he left behind.
Because I’ve been staring at my phone for hours, drafting and deleting the same half-hearted apology textagain. The text that tells him I’m scared, but I want to stop running. That I want to tell him three truths and no lies. That I want to take a chance on him seeing me completely, but I’m scared of what he’ll find.
“Do you happen to work forPrescott & Associateslaw firm?”
She stops what she’s looking at and turns to smile at me. “Sorry, Rhiannon, I know this probably seems strange. I didn’t realize this was your store until I met Natasha.”
“Did Cain tell you to come?”
She shakes her head no, her eyes serious. “God, no. He’d be totally pissed if he knew I ambushed you like this. I was planning on spending the weekend at my new place, but it needs some renovations, and I really need a lamp for my office to be able to see when it gets dark early like this. Cain had mentioned inpassing that your family owned a thrift store in town and I’d stopped by a few weeks ago which is when I met Tasha.”
She waves at my cousin who gives me a salute and a smirk before returning to whatever bookkeeping she’s handling.
