Hidden Secrets

by Jannine Gallant

  That elicited a small smile.

  “Depends on what you’re making.”

  “Cinnamon apple crepes and scrambled eggs with gruyere and chives?”

  “And you wonder why Blaze won’t leave you alone. If you served oatmeal instead of ambrosia, you wouldn’t have half the problems you do.”

  He reached for a mug off the rack beside the coffee pot. “Have you had my oatmeal? Talk about a secret weapon . . .”

  “Just make the crepes. I’m going to go take a quick shower.” Paige paused in the doorway. “Oh, I talked to Nina a little while ago and told her you’re in town. She said to call her if you’re still interested in renting her house.”

  Apparently Paige is also in a rush to get rid of me.

  He poured his coffee then took a sip, eyeing her over the rim of his cup. “I’ll do that.”

  “Great. I’ll be back by the time those crepes are ready.”

  She disappeared before he had a chance to respond. The woman was definitely skittish this morning. Completely his fault, and past time to do something about it.

  He chose three apples from the bowl of fruit on the counter, then dug through the utensil drawer for a peeler. He’d call Nina while he cooked, if he could find his cell. He snapped his fingers and strolled into the living room to scoop it up off the coffee table. Shocker, there was already a missed call from Blaze. Ignoring it, he scrolled through his contacts on the way back to the kitchen, put the phone on speaker, and dialed Nina.

  She answered immediately without benefit of a greeting. “Paige said you’d be calling. Congrats on scooping up the Poseidon Grill.”

  “Thanks. I’m excited about it.”

  “Is this your fifth restaurant?”

  “Sixth, but who’s counting.” He made short work of peeling the first apple. “Paige mentioned you might be willing to rent me your house for a couple of months.”

  “I could be persuaded.”

  He sliced the apple into a bowl and picked up a second. “Do I have to bribe you with food the way I do Paige every time I make a lame-ass move? Right now, I’m cooking her breakfast.”

  Her chuckle rolled across his senses. “I thought you were Mr. Smooth, Quentin. How’d you irritate Paige this quickly?”

  He paused with the peeler hovering over the apple. “If she didn’t tell you, maybe I—”

  “Tell me what?”

  He debated shooting his mouth off to Paige’s friend, then shrugged. Maybe Nina would let him move in today if... “We were watching a chick flick—her choice, not mine—and drinking wine. I sort of forgot myself in the moment and, well, let’s just say she’d probably prefer a little distance until the awkwardness wears off.”

  “Did you sleep with her?” Nina’s shout practically deafened him.

  “Of course not. I’m not a complete asshole. Give me some credit.”

  “Then, what—”

  “It was a single kiss. Not a big deal.” At least it shouldn’t have been a big deal. “We just need a little space so we can return to normal.”

  “Is that what Paige wants?”

  “Of course. The whole stupid situation was my fault. How much for rent?”

  “Huh? Oh, uh, since I like you, two grand a month, furnished.”

  “That seems more than reasonable. When can I move in?”

  “Today, I guess. I still have some art supplies and paintings stored in the second bedroom, but they won’t take long to move. I’m working on setting up my studio here.”

  He finished slicing the apples, then added cinnamon, sugar, and a little vanilla to the bowl. “Congratulations on your marriage, by the way. Teague’s a lucky man.”

  “We’re both lucky. You should try settling down with one woman instead of playing the field. You might actually like it.”

  “You could be right.”

  Chapter Five

  Paige carefully unwrapped a Waterford crystal vase, set it on the shelf, then reached into the trunk for the next piece. Displaying the entire inventory she’d picked up recently would take time, but at least most of the smaller items from Margaret LaPine’s home were clean. Unlike the collection from Zeb’s barn. Removing years’ worth of dirt and grime would take some effort.

  Today, she was up for the challenge. Maybe scrubbing and polishing would work off most of her annoyance. She set a bone china cup and saucer next to the vase and wondered who she was more irritated with, Quentin or herself. He’d packed up his stuff and bolted after breakfast, but not before stripping his sheets off his bed and throwing them in the wash. A sure sign guilt was eating at him. Paige didn’t want him to feel guilty. She wasn’t certain what, exactly, she did want him to feel, but it wasn’t guilt.

  When the bell over the shop door jingled, she wiped her hands on the seat of her jeans and tucked a stray lock of hair back into the loose curls secured in a twist atop her head before heading up front to greet her customer. A man she didn’t recognize stood with fists planted on his hips, surveying the store. If the scowl darkening his hazel eyes was any indication, he wasn’t thrilled to be there.

  Paige smiled anyway. “Welcome to Old Things. May I help you?”

  “I hope so. A couple days ago, my mother sold a few pieces of furniture to you, along with a host of smaller items. I have reason to believe some of my personal possessions might have been included in what you bought.”

  “And you would be?”

  “Baird Copeland. I had baseball cards and old comic books that are probably worth a fortune stashed in my childhood bedroom. I’d forgotten they were there until Mother dragged me over to haul her crap to the dump.”

  “Miss Lola mentioned you were helping her dispose of the trash. I can assure you I didn’t buy any sports memorabilia or comic books.”

  “I know you didn’t intentionally purchase them.” He spoke slowly, the way he probably did when confronting a not too bright child. “But they might have been in a piece of furniture you bought. I can’t remember exactly where I put them. It’s been years.”

  Paige’s hackles rose. “I’m currently preparing the new inventory for display. I don’t expect to find your property, Mr. Copeland, but I’ll certainly notify you if I do. If you’ll leave a business card, I’ll contact you.”

  “Maybe I could simply look through the pieces now.”

  “Everything I bought recently is in the storage room, and your mother’s furniture is packed in with purchases from two other locations. Most of it isn’t even accessible, and I have no intention of moving a lot of furniture when”—she broke off as the door opened with a jingle of bells and met Nina’s questioning gaze—“when I have other customers.”

  “I guess I’ll have to return later, once you’ve sorted out your storage problem.” Pulling his wallet from the pocket of his slacks, he removed a business card and thrust it in her direction.

  Paige took it. When he turned and brushed past Nina, Paige flipped him the bird. The door slammed shut with a clash of bells.

  “Uh, bad timing on my part?” Her friend’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “That guy looked familiar.”

  “Actually, perfect timing. He’s Lola Copeland’s son. The man practically accused me of stealing his old baseball cards, which he apparently stashed in a dresser at his mom’s house.”

  “That’s right, Baird. I met him once when I was delivering a painting to his mom. I’m going to miss her. She was a terrific customer.”

  Paige dropped the business card on the counter. “By the way, you’re Miss Lola’s financial backup plan. She’s hoping to make a fortune selling your pictures in the not too distant future.”

  “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” Nina grinned. “Unlikely, but wonderful.”

  Paige’s temper eased. “I may have been a little harsher than necessary with her son, but his attitude irritated me. And I wasn’t in the best mood to begin with.”

  “About that . . .” Nina propped an elbow on the counter. “Quentin is officially moved into my old house. Should I
have short-sheeted his bed before giving him the key?”

  “What are you talking—oh.” Paige’s chin jerked up. “He told you about the kiss?”

  “I think he was trying to spur me into moving my art supplies out of the house so he could take possession immediately.”

  “Anything rather than face me tonight.” Her cheeks heated. “Maybe Quentin was afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off him.”

  “Paige, the man-eater on the prowl?”

  She sputtered in laughter. “Okay, I’m being ridiculous. I can’t help it. Who would have thought a simple kiss could be so awkward?”

  Nina stared at her. “Was it?”

  “Awkward? Not the actual kiss, but afterward . . .”

  “Simple. Seems like with all the years of friendship between you two, neither of you would let a simple kiss bother you. He must have kissed you before?”

  “On the top of my head, my cheek, the lips once when he was drunk after a rough breakup. He didn’t remember doing it the next day. This was different.”

  “You two are so tight. You’re not going to let—”

  “Of course not.” Paige rubbed her finger over a water spot on the mahogany surface of the counter. “Everything will be fine in a couple of days. We were both feeling a little vulnerable, that’s all.”

  “If you say so.” Nina straightened and took a step back. “I wanted to check on you, but I have a few errands to run.”

  “Go. I’m completely fine, and I have a ton of work to do. I need to organize my new inventory before I can decorate the shop for Christmas.”

  “Parks and recreation employees were out hanging wreaths and holiday lights up and down the street. The town is beginning to look very festive.”

  “Good. Tourists will be here in droves for the Winter Ball. Or at least I hope they will. And on that note, I’d better get busy.”

  “I’ll see you later then. Bye, Paige.”

  “Bye, Nina.”

  Twenty minutes later, Paige was scrubbing tarnish off a pair of silver candlesticks from Zeb’s barn when the bells jingled again. Swearing softly, she pulled off her gloves.

  “It’s just me,” a voice called out.

  “Oh, thank goodness.”

  A short time later, Mindy appeared in the doorway. “I finished quicker than I expected at the dentist. How’s it going back here?”

  “Slow. I have a lot of polishing to do, but the shop hasn’t been busy this morning.” Paige snapped her gloves back on and glanced up at her clerk.

  In her sixties, Mindy had found retirement after a career in nursing tremendously boring. Active and friendly, the woman knew everyone in town and quite a bit about old furniture. Working part-time in the antique store had given her something constructive to do, and Paige some much-needed assistance.

  “Thanks for hurrying back. You can help customers. That way I don’t have to worry about getting filthy.”

  Mindy’s light laughter bubbled up like champagne. “Since I didn’t need Novocain, I won’t even drool on the paperwork.”

  “Good to know. If you feel like taking a rag to the trunk I just emptied, the leather exterior needs to be wiped down with oil and the inside dusted.”

  “The steamer trunk near the front counter?” Her frosted hair fluttered as she waved a hand. “It’s a beauty. I’ll get right on it.”

  “Thanks, Mindy.”

  After her clerk disappeared, Paige went back to scrubbing. She’d just finished removing the last of the tarnish from the silver candlestick holders when the bells jingled again. Moments later, a male voice spoke rapidly in response to Mindy’s greeting, too low for Paige to make out the words. Taking out a clean cloth, she wiped traces of cleaner from the pair of candlesticks. Pleased with the results, she removed her gloves.

  “Sir, you can’t go back there. I’ll see if Miss Shephard has time to speak to you.” Annoyance colored her employee’s voice. She appeared in the doorway, brown eyes flashing.

  “There’s a Mr. Stillwater out front. He says you ripped off his grandpa, and he wants the inventory you purchased back.”

  “What the hell?” Paige pushed the stool away from the work bench and hopped to the floor. “I told that jerk I paid Zeb a fair price. I can’t believe—” She stopped speaking as Mindy stepped out of the way to let her by.

  No coveralls this time. Justin wore a suit and tie in addition to a pissed off expression.

  “You cut your hair.”

  “What?” The frown deepened. “Lady, are out of your mind?” Before she could respond, his eyes cleared. “Oh, you met Justin. My brother and I are nothing alike. How you could mistake me for him is—”

  “Did you come here for a reason, Mr. Stillwater?”

  “I certainly did. That collection in Grandpa’s barn is my inheritance. I won’t have you robbing an old man blind. I took a look at the invoice you gave him, and you didn’t pay him near what that crap is worth.”

  Paige held onto her temper. “I assure you I paid your grandfather a fair price. He was very happy with the deal we made.”

  “He’s practically senile. You took advantage—”

  “Do you have power of attorney for Mr. Stillwater?” Paige spoke loudly to cut him off.

  “What? No. He’s not—”

  “Then I suggest you take your accusations and leave.”

  His eyes narrowed. “First, I’ll retrieve my grandfather’s possessions. I’ll give you what you paid for them.”

  “No, you’ll pay my asking price, after I clean up the pieces and display them for sale.”

  “Now you’re just screwing with me.”

  “I’m in business to make money. Since you have no legal say in what your grandfather does, I’ll thank you to leave now.”

  He clenched his hands at his sides. “I thought we could be civil about this. I’ll make certain my grandfather doesn’t sell any more of his antiques to you in the future.”

  “That’s your prerogative, of course, but I didn’t cheat Zeb. If you check around, you’ll find other dealers wouldn’t have paid more than I did.”

  Without another word, he turned and left. The door shut with a clash of bells.

  “Wow, two for two this morning. I’m on a roll.”

  Mindy stared at her with wide eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “Baird Copeland showed up earlier, ranting about how his valuable baseball cards were stashed in a piece of furniture I bought from his mother. I looked through the armoire and dresser after he left and didn’t find anything. My guess is they wound up at the landfill. After that encounter, I figured I’d dealt with my quota of idiots for the day.”

  “Jerk number two looked familiar when he walked in, but I couldn’t place him at first. That was Jonas Stillwater. His twin brother, Justin, works down at Hank’s garage.”

  When Paige headed toward the back of the shop, Mindy followed.

  “I met Justin out at his grandpa’s farm.”

  “I believe Jonas owns a small financial planning company up the coast somewhere. I haven’t seen him in years.”

  “Zeb is a sweet old guy. It’s too bad his grandsons are money-hungry assholes.”

  When the bells jingled again, Mindy lowered her voice. “Let’s hope this isn’t strike number three walking through the door.”

  Paige shook her head. “I couldn’t be that unlucky.”

  The day passed quickly without any additional irate confrontations. By the time Paige was ready to lock up for the evening, she’d made substantial progress prepping the new inventory. A day spent with cleaning solvents was messy work, and she had quite a few more pieces that still required work. She’d left the ones with the worst rust in a container filled with white vinegar to soak overnight.

  Mindy had gone, and Paige was flipping the sign in the window to ‘closed’ when Quentin parked his Jaguar in front of the shop. He stepped out onto the sidewalk, his blond hair gleaming beneath the streetlight as he hurried toward her.

&nb
sp; She held open the door. “Did Nina kick you out of her house already?”

  He grinned in response. “Not yet. I ran into Ryan and Leah earlier and made plans to meet them for happy hour at Castaways. Want to go with me? They have half-priced drinks.”

  She glanced down at her dirt-streaked jeans. “I need to clean up first.”

  “No problem. You know Leah will be late getting there.”

  “True. Come on inside. I’ll lock up, and we can go out the back way.”

  Quentin followed her up the stairs then flopped down on the couch while Paige headed into her bedroom to strip off her filthy clothes.

  “How was your day?” Quentin yelled from the other room.

  “Not bad. With any luck, I’ll have everything I just purchased ready for display in a couple of days.”

  “That’s good. Are you almost ready?”

  “Getting there.” She obviously didn’t have time for a shower. After dressing in a pair of black pants and a pink angora sweater, she headed into the bathroom to touch up her makeup and fix her hair, which was straggling around her face. With ease of practice, she secured it in a quick twist and snapped off the light.

  Quentin glanced up from his phone when she entered the room. “That was quick.”

  “I’m nothing if not efficient.” Pausing beside the coat closet, she bent to retrieve a pair of black heeled ankle boots. After tugging them on, she turned with a smile. “All set.”

  “You look hot.”

  “Hey, it’s cold outside.” She pulled her leather jacket out of the closet.

  “I meant . . . never mind. Let me help you with that.” He held the jacket for her to slide her arms through the sleeves.

  Turning, she gave him a wicked grin. “You look pretty hot, too.”

  What an understatement. Wearing a button-down shirt a shade darker than his aqua eyes and a pair of dark jeans that hugged a superior ass, Quentin cleaned up nicely. But then, he always did.

  Before she could open the door, he touched the back of her hand, his fingers warm against her skin. “Are we cool? I don’t want any awkwardness between us.”

  “Of course.” Standing on her toes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Our friendship is bulletproof.”