Larry glanced down at the watch like he'd never really seen it before. “My uncle gave it to me. Said it was old, but I didn't know it was fancy old.”
“It's more than fancy. It's rare.” Ruby straightened, more excited now. This was what she loved, finding beauty in unexpected places, stumbling across history hiding in plain sight. “Where'd your uncle get it?”
“He owns an antique store in the next town over. Aqua Vista, about twenty minutes from here. The place is packed with stuff like this. Old watches, jewelry, weird furniture. He's always trying to get me to work there, but,” Larry gestured around the gas station. “This pays better.”
“Does he sell to the public?”
“Yeah, loves it. Gets real chatty with customers. You interested?”
Ruby's mind was already racing. An antique store, off the beaten path, run by someone who clearly had an eye for quality if this watch was any indication. These were the kinds of places where real treasures hid—not the picked-over shops in tourist areas, but the quiet stores where collectors went to die and their estates ended up.
She'd found some of her favorite pieces in places like this. A Depression-era glass vase in rural Wisconsin. A set of art deco bookends in a town so small it didn't have a stoplight. Objects that spoke to her in ways she couldn't quite articulate, that made her fingers itch to paint them and capture their essence on canvas.
She was about to answer when Celeste appeared at her elbow.
“There you are. I've been waiting. We're already behind schedule and if we want to make it to St. Louis by nighttime, we can’t waste anymore time.”
“I know, I know.” Ruby turned back to Larry, not quite ready to let this go. “Your uncle's store. What's it called?”
“Noah's Antiques. Real creative, I know.” The attendant grinned. “Tell him Larry sent you. He'll probably give you a discount and talk your ear off about provenance.”
“Perfect.” She grabbed a napkin from the counter and scribbled down the name. “Thanks, Larry. You've made my entire day.”
“No problem. Have a good trip.”
Celeste was already heading toward the door, her posture radiating impatience. Ruby caught up to her in the parking lot, still buzzing with excitement.
“We need to make a detour,” Ruby announced as they reached the car.
Celeste stopped, one hand on the door handle. “What?”
“Aqua Vista. Twenty minutes from here. There's an antique store I need to see.”
“Ruby, we're already behind.”
“I'll buy lunch when we get there. My treat. At the best restaurant in town.”
“It's not about buying lunch.” Celeste pressed her fingers to her forehead, the gesture somehow both elegant and exasperated. Ruby was starting to recognize Celeste's tells. This one meant she was trying very hard to be patient. “It's about—”
“Staying on schedule,” Ruby finished, grinning. “Yeah, I got that. But hear me out. What if the schedule is more of a suggestion?”
“Schedules are not suggestions. They're necessary for efficient travel.”
“Counterpoint: spontaneity is necessary for not dying of boredom.” Ruby slid into the passenger seat. “Come on, Celeste. Live a little.”
“I do live.”
“Hmm.”
The sound was deliberately skeptical, and Celeste's eyes narrowed as she got into the driver's seat. “What does 'hmm' mean?”
“Nothing.” Ruby buckled her seatbelt, a smile playing on her lips. She was having entirely too much fun needling Celeste, watching her controlled exterior crack just slightly. “Just that you color-code your calendar and probably have a five-year plan.”
“Having organization doesn't mean I don't live.”
“If you say so.”
Ruby's phone buzzed in her pocket for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. She silenced it without looking. Her agent could wait. Everyone who wanted something from her that she wasn’t inclined to do at this point in time, could wait.
