“The styles were from the 1980s.” She shrugged. “You could probably make a killing at a vintage store with them.”
“Brent can add that to his list of things to sell. It’ll add a few bucks to the millions he’s going to make from whatever is in the art warehouse.”
Nadine laughed, then rubbed her forehead. “There’s so much. What if we never get an answer?”
“We will.” He couldn’t let her get discouraged before they started, so he steeled himself for a pep talk. “You’re a…uh. Yeah. You’re a good reporter, Nadine.”
She smirked at him until he added, “Almost as good as me.”
She pretended to throw some water at him, then checked the fridge. “We need some groceries. Are you going to stay here tonight?”
He shook his head. “I’m coming back tomorrow. I can go to the store if you tell me what you like. How about you?”
“I have plans for tonight, so it would be great if you could pick up a few things.” Erma jumped on the counter to sit down in a loaf with her paws tucked under and regarded them with disdain. Nadine reached out, but the cat leaned away to look at Wes with her big eyes, and gave a little trill.
As he pet the cat—she was cute, he had to admit—Wes tried not to think about Nadine’s plans. He assumed if she had a partner, he’d have heard about it, but life had taught him assumptions were often wrong. It also felt weird to ask, as if he wanted to know for a reason other than curiosity.
Nadine smiled and his heart skipped. “I’ll be here at ten tomorrow morning,” she said.
“I’ll be here at nine.” Not knowing why, he held out his hand like they were sealing a deal.
“Eight it is.” She didn’t hesitate before taking his hand in hers, that little secret smile still on her face.
Nineteen
Nadine stared out at the construction site—another condo going in where there used to be a school—and drank her raspberry beer. The late afternoon sun had dropped behind the buildings, making the heat bearable for the first time all day.
“Let me get this straight,” Lisanne said. “You’re going to be on a secret assignment that has nothing to do with work.”
“It’s more accurate to say it’s not sanctioned by work,” corrected Nadine. She and Wes had agreed to stick to Dot’s originaldon’t-say-a-wordrules for now, but it was a good idea for someone to know who she was working with if she was going AWOL for three weeks. She’d known Wes a long time, but a woman could never be too safe.
“Are you assuming it’s better to beg forgiveness than ask permission?”
“Yes.”
“Good call.” Lisanne swung her sunglassed gaze over, forcing Nadine to carry on a conversation with her own doubled reflection. “Are you telling me so I can do wellness checks on you? Should I be worried?”
“I’ll be in touch,” Nadine assured her. “I’m working with Wes. Wes Chen from theSpear.”
“The competition?” Lisanne stopped as the server came by with a cheese plate containing tiny wedges better suited to a mouse and ramekins of chutneys and jams.
“The source insisted on working with both of us.”
“Sure, sure.” Lisanne waved that off to narrow in on what interested her. “Wes Chen, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting. I didn’t know you were friends.”
“We’re absolutely not. I’ve known Wes since school, and we happen to be working on the same story. That’s it.” She poured more water into a glass dripping with condensation.
“I remember him from the stint I did at theBelleville Recorder,” Lisanne said, looking at her phone. Then she squinted. “Oh. Wes gothot. Like, the signs were there, but he has fulfilled his full hotness potential.”
Nadine choked. “Wes?”
Lisanne brandished his photo from theSpearwebsite. “Look, I may be biased because pickings are slim in our field, but Wes is an indisputably attractive man.”
“I guess so.” Too bad his personality got in the way.
