Suddenly suspicious, she glanced from the display to Matt. “This is what you wanted me to see, isn’t it? This desk.”
He nodded, hands shoved in his pockets. “I thought it might give you some ideas.”
Something in his tone made her stop just as she was about to reach for the handle on the door. She searched his face, but his expression was neutral. “You mean something besides the desk, don’t you? What sort of ideas?”
“Maybe not ideas, exactly. More like options.”
Her heart began to hammer. “Come on, Matt. You’re going to have to spell this out for me. I am not going to jump to conclusions. I want facts.”
“Probably a first,” he teased, then his expression sobered. “Let’s take a look around inside and see if there’s anything on display that interests you. I hear Joshua Mullins gets his hands on some really amazing things from time to time.”
Emma still had a mile-long list of questions, but she decided none of them were urgent. Besides, she could hardly wait to explore the place. She pushed open the door and went inside, then came to an immediate halt when she saw Marisol behind the counter packing a box.
“Marisol?”
The girl whirled around and stared. “Hey, Emma.” She avoided Matt’s gaze, even as she greeted him with a mumbled hello.
“What are you doing here?” Emma asked.
“My great-grandpa owns this place. He has for years, but he’s planning to retire as soon as he finds somebody to buy it. I’m helping him sort through some stuff.”
“That’s very nice of you.”
Marisol shrugged. “He’s a great guy and he’s been making sure I stay straight, if you know what I mean.” She hesitated, then asked, “How’s Jeff doing?”
“Good,” Emma told her. “He’s back at college.”
Marisol’s expression turned sad. “I’m really happy that worked out for him. I know he was really bummed about missing his senior year and not getting his degree.”
“He was bummed,” Emma agreed. “We’re all glad it’s worked out.”
“So are you guys looking for something in particular?” Marisol asked. “Not that I’d be able to tell you where to look, but Great-Grandpa would. I can get him.”
“No need. I’ll just poke around for a while, if you don’t mind,” Emma said.
“Okay, then, I’ll take this in the back and be back in a flash. Just holler if you need one of us before I get back.” The girl picked up the loaded box as if it weighed nothing and disappeared through a curtained doorway.
Emma stared after her. “Looks as if she’s getting her life back on track.”
Matt smiled that slow smile that made her knees go weak.
“Lot of that happening lately.” He tore his gaze away from her and surveyed the piles of junk. “So any idea what you’re looking for?”
Emma was almost tempted to tell him she was searching for her future, but that seemed too whimsical to express. “Hard to tell,” she said instead. “I’ll know it when I see it.”
“You could have it all,” he suggested casually as she began sorting through a box filled with old silver tableware.
Her head snapped up. “What are you saying?”
“The business is for sale. It could be yours.” His gaze locked on hers. “Unless you think you’ve got a better deal with Marcel.”
“I promised him I was coming back,” she said, even though a part of her was already wavering. Her own place? Wasn’t that exactly what she’d been thinking about ever since her mother had planted the idea in her head? “No, it’s ridiculous. I can’t even think about buying a business.”
Matt came up to her and tucked a finger under her chin. “But you’re tempted, aren’t you?”
She looked around at the spacious room, which could be turned into a wonderful showroom by someone with a little artistic flair and a whole lot of elbow grease. Her imagination kicked in at full throttle. The hardwood floors could be restored to a shine, the window washed and freshly painted with the store’s name. Flamingo Treasures, she thought at once, something to tie it to the family business. She could have a bright pink flamingo with some sort of antique jewelry dangling from its beak as her logo.
“Okay, I’m tempted,” she admitted. “But it’s impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible if you want it badly enough,” he insisted. “Do you, Emma? Do you want your own business? Do you want to stay here in Winter Cove with your family?” His gaze searched hers. “With me?”
She felt herself trembling. “Exactly what are you asking, Matt?”
He returned her gaze with a perfectly innocent expression. “Keep poking around. Maybe the answer will come to you.”
She stared at him, puzzled. Why wouldn’t he just say it? If he was talking about building a future together, he needed to be more direct than this, she thought, exasperated with him and with herself for daring to start to dream.
Oh, well, if he was encouraging her to poke around, she might as well do it. There was nothing she enjoyed more. If he got bored waiting for her, too bad. She could always remind him that it had been his idea.
The box of silver was filled with good pieces that with a little polishing could be worth a fortune. There was a filthy old painting stashed behind a dresser that she was pretty sure was by a minor, but well-recognized, eighteenth-century French artist. Once it was cleaned she could be more certain. There was a matching set of Italian renaissance chairs in deplorable condition. And two or three good tables, one of them made of rosewood that she would love to own herself. All of the marked prices were at junk shop level. Obviously Joshua Mullins made no attempt to separate genuine antiques from the junk. It was a bargain hunter’s paradise.
She was a little surprised that Mr. Mullins hadn’t already emerged from the back to try to sell her something, but maybe Marisol had told him she was just browsing. Or maybe Matt had conspired with him to give her free rein to look to her heart’s content in the hope of tempting her into buying not just a few items, but the whole shop.
Could she do that? She had the talent for it, the solid business instincts. And staying in Winter Cove under these conditions wouldn’t feel as if she’d sold out. But where would the money come from? It always came down to the money. Even at these prices, to own the shop lock, stock and barrel was bound to cost more than she could readily lay her hands on.
She reached an old display case near the door to the backroom. She could hear the low murmur of voices and realized that Matt was back there with Marisol and Mr. Mullins. They were probably having a damned tea party while she was out here salivating over something she couldn’t have.
She sighed heavily and leaned down to study the old estate jewelry in the case. There was a lot of junky costume jewelry mixed in with some Art Deco pieces that had increased in value in recent years. And in the midst of it all was a velvet jewelry box that looked brand-new. A card propped against it had her name on it. Her heart immediately began to race.
“Matthew Atkins!” she shouted.
He wandered in from the back, looking as innocent as any male she’d ever seen. “What’s up, darlin’? Did you find something you can’t live without?”
She pointed toward the display case, and was surprised to see that her hand was shaking. “What is that?”
Matt leaned down and stared at the box as if he’d never seen it before. “Looks like a jewelry box to me.”
“It has my name on it.”
He continued to peer through the glass. “So it does. Isn’t that something? Wonder how it got here?”
Mr. Mullins emerged just then, barely containing a grin. Marisol peeked around the doorway, not even trying to hide her smile.
“Why don’t I get that out so you can take a look?” Mr. Mullins suggested. He reached into the display case with his gnarled fingers and gently picked up the velvet box and the card. Before handing it over, though, he peered at her closely. “You are Emma Killian, aren’t you? I wouldn’t want to make a mis
take about a thing like that.”
“I am,” Emma said.
“Maybe I should see some ID,” he said, feigning worry.
Matt chuckled at Emma’s obvious frustration. “I think I can vouch for her. I’ve known her most of her life.”
Mr. Mullins nodded. “That’s okay, then,” he said, handing over the box and card. “I’ll be in the back if you need me.” He shooed Marisol back into the backroom with him, despite her protests. “Let those two have some privacy,” he scolded.
Emma’s hand shook as she held the box. “Matt, what have you done?”
“What makes you think I know anything about this?”
“It has you written all over it,” she said.
He made a pretense of studying it. “Only thing I see is your name. You going to open it or not?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. Once that box was opened, who knew what would be unleashed? One thing was for certain, a lot of her options would disappear. There would be no question of going back to Washington if the box contained what she thought it did. She might be stubborn and hardheaded, but she wasn’t an idiot. There wasn’t a man in Washington who could hold a candle to Matt. Balance a lifetime with him against what she might lose by staying and it was no contest. She looked into Matt’s precious face. She would gain so much more.
Finally, she drew in a deep breath and opened the card.
“Just wanted to see if you could spot the real treasure in here,” it read. “Love, Matt.”
Her eyes promptly filled with tears. “Oh, Matt,” she whispered, throwing her arms around him. “The treasure’s not in this box. If there’s any treasure in this entire room, it’s you.”
He pulled back and grinned. “Want me to take this back then?” he asked, reaching for the velvet box.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, stepping back and holding it out of his reach. “It has my name on it.”
She flipped it open and found not the fancy, brand-new diamond ring she’d expected, but an antique ring with a setting so delicate and a stone so brilliant it made her blink. A ring this special, one that had endured the test of time, spoke volumes about the man who’d picked it out.
“Oh, Matt, it’s beautiful,” she breathed. “It’s perfect.”
He met her gaze, brushing away her tears with the pad of his thumb. “I want you to stay here and marry me. Hell, Emma, I’ve loved you for so long, I don’t think I can figure out how to stop. I don’t think I could stand it if you went back to Washington again.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “But if that’s the only way you can be happy, well, I suppose there are plenty of openings for a cop up there, too.”
Emma’s head was spinning. “You’d do that? You’d go to Washington if that’s what I wanted?”
“I’d go to the ends of the earth, if you asked me to.”
How had she missed the fact that this thing between them was inevitable? How had she not known that Matt’s love for her was deep enough for him to put her needs first? She’d depended on him for months now. She’d cried on his shoulder so often she was amazed he hadn’t demanded a new wardrobe of shirts. She’d even slept with him, but she’d missed the fact that she loved him enough not to ask him to go.
Maybe that was one more thing she should have learned from her father’s death, that people tucked other people into familiar categories and simply accepted that things would go on that way forever. Nothing could be more wrong. It was important to pay attention, to dig beneath the surface, to look beyond the actions of someone close and see what was in their heart. It was important to be ready for change, to face it with excitement, rather than fear.
“You’re not saying anything,” Matt said, searching her face, his expression uneasy. “I thought that things were different between us now.”
“They are,” she said.
“But you don’t love me,” he concluded, looking shaken.
“No, it’s not that,” she said, touching a finger to his lips until she’d coaxed a smile from him. “You just took me by surprise. My life has been in such a state of turmoil since I came back, I never stopped for a single second to consider whether we were ready to take this step. It’s a huge step, Matt.”
His smile turned wicked. “You missed the fact that we’ve been sleeping together? That was the huge step. This next one should be a piece of cake. We’ve been working our way toward it our entire lives.”
“I’m very aware that we’ve been sleeping together,” she said, her cheeks heating as she glanced toward the back room to see if Mr. Mullins or Marisol might be eavesdropping. “But that doesn’t always lead to marriage.”
“It does when it’s you and me,” he said soberly. “So are you saying yes or no?”
“I’m saying I care enough to stay here and try to figure it out,” she said.
He nodded and tried to hide his disappointment, but she could read it in his eyes.
“Will you buy this place?” he asked.
That much she was certain about. She was going to find some way to buy this junk shop and turn it into her own dream business where she would answer to no one. “If I can get the money together to do it,” she said.
“I could help,” he offered. “I have some savings.”
She shook her head. “I have to do it on my own. It has to be mine, Matt.”
He nodded. “That independent streak again. I’m familiar with it. Okay, then, you do what you have to do. Something tells me Joshua Mullins will work with you. Turns out he’s a bit of a romantic.”
“He must be if he was willing to help you pull off this proposal,” she said, looking deep into Matt’s eyes. “So can you be patient with me?”
“I’ve waited for you since I was twenty years old,” he said. “A few more months won’t make any difference.”
“Months?”
“Okay, weeks.”
Emma laughed at his impatience. It made her love him all the more. “How about a year?”
“Don’t press your luck, Emma. I want babies. Lots of them, while we’re both still young enough to keep up with them.”
Her heart began to pound as Matt tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “Babies,” she repeated, a combination of wonder and panic in her voice.
“No need to panic,” he soothed. “We can take this one step at a time. Business first, wedding second, then lots and lots of babies who look just like their mom.”
Emma stood on tiptoe and kissed him. There was nothing scary about one tiny step, not when it was with Matt. He would never let her down. She thought of all the pain her father’s death had caused her and measured it against this moment. She felt Matt’s hand curve reassuringly around hers and decided that, like her mother always said, even the darkest cloud had a silver lining, if only you took the time to look for it.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3711-1
FLAMINGO DINER
Copyright © 2003 by Sherryl Woods.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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