Page 24 of 'Til All the Seas Run Dry

Callum reached out blindly and clasped Magda’s hand tightly, feeling the warmth of her skin, a sharp contrast to the coolness of his own. She smiled again and chafed his knuckles with her thumb, leaving a bloody smear.

“I guess what I’m saying is that when Jory starts digging, you best be there to be found.”

9

Jory had spent two weeks in the desert. Two long weeks combing through a mansion full of treasures and antiquities and vintage clothing finds to bring back to sell in her shop, including a spectacular Thierry Mugler gold lamé corset from 1978 that had gone directly from the trailer she’d rented to bring everything back and straight into her closet. It wasn’t something she would usually wear but the corset fit her like a glove and reminded her of armor. She felt as though she could use a little armor at the moment.

She imagined all of the ways she would style it. Perhaps with loose-fitting, ripped jeans and a pair of stiletto heels that could double as a weapon if a person needed them to. A stake, to be precise.

“How was the trip?” Esther asked from her place on the green velvet couch in Jory’s living room.

Esther was propped back against a big pillow and the armrest, a mug of tea cupped in her hands like a baby bird. Jory smiled at her over her own mug.

“Successful.”

“I can’t wait to see everything you bought. I know you didn’t send me pictures of even half of it.”

“I didn’t send you pictures of even ten percent of it. There’s a U-Haul out back with our names on it tomorrow. That is, if you’re willing and free.”

Esther beamed. “Uh, of course I am! I’ve loved working in the shop.”

Jory was unspeakably grateful for Esther. It had been a terrible time to leave town for two weeks, so close to Christmas. Though she did a steady business year-round in the brick-and-mortar shop, her online orders definitely stacked up around the holidays.

“Was it awful managing the online part by yourself?”

Jory hadn’t even considered it when she’d booked the flight to New Mexico, which was completely out of character for her. She was a person who dotted i’s and crossed t’s. Always. And yet ten minutes breathing the same air as Callum MacLeod had sent her abandoning her business to run away to the desert for half a month. She’d called Esther in a panic from her gate at the Seattle airport and walked her through the entire process over a video call.

“My first day was… intense,” Esther said, taking a sip of her tea. “I kept trying to pack up orders as they came and then losing track of what I’d done and what label went where and ended up having to do the whole thing over again.”

Jory felt that punch of guilt again.

“But then I took a deep breath and remembered that your system doesn’t have to be my system as long as the end result is the same. So I made a little assembly line and checklist for myself. I got everything sorted and put in boxes, and then Hank came and helped me seal them all up and label them.”

“Hank?”

Esther smiled brightly. “The assembly line was his idea. I double-checked the packing slips, and then he followed behind me with the tape.”

“I owe him a paycheck too.”

“He would rip it up. Politely, of course,” she added quickly. “But he’d never take it.”

“Well, I have to do something for him.”

“Get him a gift certificate to the diner.”

“Be serious, Esther.”

“I am serious. Diner breakfast is his favorite.”

“What about a night in a hotel somewhere for the two of you? Or concert tickets? Or?—”

“Jory,” Esther interrupted. “Diner. Gift. Certificate,” she said, enunciating each word. “It’s the only thing he’ll accept.”

Jory sank back against the opposite arm of the couch with a huff. “Very well, then. Diner gift certificate it is.”

“Good. He’ll love it.”

Jory snorted a laugh. “It’s the least I can do. Although that man would walk into traffic for you, so I’m not surprised he’d volunteer to tape boxes for you.”