“Was she in her late thirties? Shoulder-length hair? Perky?” Andie described Tiffany as best she could.
“Yeah, you know her?”
“Not really. But as long as he’s found someone else, that works for everyone.”
“Guess so.” Sally focused her attention on Andie. “What about you? I hear you’re staying in town.”
“Yes. This is my home now,” Andie said.
“Good. You’re the face of Tides now.”
“I don’t know about that. But this is where my family is, so this is where I'm going to stay.” Andie glanced back at the inn. “I’ll help with the guests at the inn part-time, and I bought the antique store downtown.”
“Good. That’s going to work out just perfect for you.” Sally scanned the crowd. “And Tides is going to do well. This event is coming off perfectly. I’ll bet you get a lot of good reviews. Even that sourpuss Marilyn is softening.”
Andie followed Sally’s gaze. Marilyn was still seated alone at the head table. Andie watched as she picked a morsel from her plate and leaned down tentatively, clucking to Cooper, who sat at her feet. Cooper’s tail wagged furiously, and he put up his paw. Marilyn took the paw as she fed the treat to Cooper, and for the first time since she’d arrived, Andie saw the woman smile.
“Guess dogs bring out the best in everyone.” Sally’s attention jerked toward the other side of the room. “Payton is motioning me over. Gotta run.”
Andie sipped her champagne and watched Sally rejoin her table. She was glad to hear that Chandler and Tiffany had hit it off. It felt good to help people. And now she had a chance to help even more people with their antiques. She couldn’t wait to get started.
Chapter Twenty-Four
James approached the front door to Maxi’s cottage with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. It was the night after the wedding at Tides, and he and Maxi had picked up where they’d left off. Better than where they’d left off, actually. They were entering a new phase of their relationship. One that he was very much looking forward to.
The cottage was similar to the one he’d looked at with Sandee, and he liked it immediately. He could see Maxi’s touches everywhere, from the whimsical wrought iron chair she’d placed out front to the flowers overflowing the window boxes.
Meow!
Picasso voiced his displeasure at being cooped up from inside the cloth cat carrier James held in his right hand. He hadn’t told Maxi about the cat and couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when he presented Picasso to her.
Palms clammy, he knocked on the door.
The door opened, and there she was. Maxi was wearing a yellow-and-white-checked sundress, and her hair was loose. She looked fantastic.
“Welcome!” She opened the door wider, then her eyes fell to the cat carrier. “What is this?”
James held the carrier out to her. Her smile widened. “Remember when you saw me downtown that day and I tried to avoid you? This is why. It’s a present I was getting for you.”
Maxi’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, James, I’m so sorry. I was a fool.”
“Never mind that now. It’s water under the bridge. We don’t need to think about that. Let’s focus on the future. Our future.”
Maxi smiled, took the carrier inside, and put it on the table.
The inside of the cottage was a little worn, as Maxi had already told him. James liked it anyway, especially since she’d added touches here and there and fixed it up with her usual skill.
Something scampered down the hallway toward him. “You already have a cat?” James sat on the floor and extended his hand to the black kitten, who approached cautiously. “Hey, I think I recognize this little guy. He was at the shelter when I got Picasso.”
“Picasso?” Maxi had taken the white kitten out and was cuddling him to her chest.
“I named him after one of your favorite artists. You can change it if you want.”
“No, it’s perfect.” Maxi placed Picasso down next to the other cat and sat on the floor next to James. “This one is named Rembrandt.”
Together they watched the two cats circle each other warily. There were a few hisses and a couple of paw swipes, but then they settled in and started playing. Soon they were rolling around in a fluffy flurry of black and white fur.
He stood and brushed a few hairs off his jeans. Oddly, he didn’t care as much now about cat hair or appearances. “Looks like they are going to get along fine.”
