She wanted him to sell them.
His thoughts plummeted. There was no way he was going down that path. It was certain to lead to trouble. He’d lose focus at the office, he’d spend all his time drawing, sleeping, drinking—trying to find that combination that would give him his Big Break, his Breakout—wealth and fame….
Foolish man. He let his forehead sink into his palm.
He wasn’t his father…but he could be. Very easily.
There was no chance of that. He wouldn’t do that to himself, or to his grandfather. He had to stay on the straight and narrow—work hard, be successful, find a woman to marry—maybe—in five years or so….
But his art.
“It has nothing to do with…Us.”
He’d spoken aloud, and without meaning to, he’d capitalized them, making it official. That, at least, he had no qualms about—no qualms whatsoever.
Damn. He wanted to see her again—tonight—five-year plan or no.
* * *
What if he wanted to see her again? Soon?
Fiona dragged a hand through her hair, yanking mercilessly through the thick curls. She sat at her desk in the middle of Charmed Antiquity, examining—or, rather, trying to keep her mind on examining—some bills of sale from the open house.
She pushed away the warm, mellow feeling that crept over her when she thought about lying in bed next to Gideon, touching his smooth, damp, warm skin after making love with him. This was so very unlike her—to dwell on the memory, to think of nothing but a man.
A dull pounding on the glass of the shop’s front door had Fiona’s thoughts jolting back to the present—thank goodness.
She removed her reading glasses and rose from the desk to make her way toward the front of the store, mildly curious as to who would be knocking when the sign said “Closed.”
Maybe it’s Gideon.
She’d kept Charmed Antiquity closed today because it had taken until well after lunch for her and Carl to clear out the mess that was left behind from yesterday’s investigation by the police, and also because of the news and public interest generated by the finding of the skeleton.
But now Carl had gone home, and she was finishing up some listings on eBay…when she wasn’t distracted and daydreaming about Gideon.
The door rattled in its hinges; whoever was knocking was growing impatient. Then Fiona saw who was there, and she gave a short laugh.
Well, that explained the impatience and determination.
Her step hitched, but by then, Maxine Took, Juanita Acerita, and Iva Bergstrom had all seen her through the glass.
It was too late for retreat.
She sighed in acquiescence, and opened the door. “Hello ladies,” she said.
“We heard about the skeleton,” Maxine said, barging past Fiona, her cane gripped tightly in her fist.
“Who is it?” asked Juanita, squeezing into the shop more carefully so as not to squish the bag carrying Bruce Banner, who peeked out with his bright black eyes. “Who’s the dead person?”
“Hello, Fiona,” Iva said gaily, pausing to embrace her in a cloud of White Shoulders. “I could hardly believe when I heard about it!”
Fiona could only blink as the tornado of Tuesday Ladies filled the small space near the front of her crowded shop. She peeked out to make sure that was all of them—apparently Orbra and Cherry, like normal people, had other things to do.
“How about a seat?” she asked quickly, envisioning a fiercely-wielded cane or large leather bag smacking into a table and upending a vase or porcelain lamp. She started to pull up a chair, but Maxine was already charging into the depths of the shop, with Juanita and Iva in tow.
“Back here, I suppose,” Maxine cried, as if going into battle. “I can see where the wall’s been torn down.”
Fiona followed, watching for stray cane swings and gasping quietly each time Juanita passed a fragile item with her dangling tote bag.
