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He arched a brow. “I don’t think so. I could have stopped you...if I’d wanted to.”
Had she heard him correctly? Or was she just hearing what she wished to? “Are...are you saying you didn’t want it to stop?”
His gaze searched hers. “If we’re to continue to do business together that probably shouldn’t happen again.”
“Agreed.” She averted her gaze. “And I think you’re going to be impressed with the incentives we’re willing to offer you to bring your business to Mirraccino.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing the package.”
As Annabelle continued to gaze down at the Oriental rug covering the wood floor, she noticed a cream-colored slip of paper sticking out from the edge of the bed. It must have come from the journal. She bent over and picked it up.
“Sorry,” Grayson said. “I must have missed that one.”
“It was most of the way under the bed. It’s no wonder you missed it.”
Wanting something to distract her from the jumble of emotions over Grayson’s pending departure, she unfolded the slip of paper. Inside was a message. A very strange message.
“What’s the matter?” Grayson asked.
“It’s this note. It seems odd. Why would my mother have a note addressed to Cosmo? I don’t even know any Cosmo.”
“Do you mind if I take a look?”
There certainly wasn’t anything personal in the note so she handed it over. It honestly didn’t mean anything to her. Why in the world had her mother kept it? And why would she have placed it with her most sacred papers?
Grayson read the note aloud:
Cosmo, tea is my Gold. I drink it first in the morning and at four in the afternoon.
for you. I hope you enjOy. Am hopiNg The Queen Is weLL. Visit heR oftEn? Nate is Well. yOu muSt see Sara. She’s growN very much. Everything is As you requesTed. Don’t terry. Get goin noW. WishIng you all of tHe best.
“What do you make of it?” Annabelle asked.
Grayson stood up and turned the paper over as though searching for more clues as to why her mother had kept it. “You’re sure it doesn’t strike any chords in your memory?”
“None at all. In fact, can I see it again?” Annabelle examined the handwriting. “That’s not even my mother’s handwriting.”
“That’s odd. You’re sure?”
“Positive.” She moved to the bed and retrieved her mother’s journal and flipped it open to a random page. “See. Very different handwriting.”
“I have to agree with you. Perhaps it wasn’t in the journal. Maybe someone who stayed here before you dropped it.”
“Impossible. I’ve been in this room for a couple of years and trust me when I say they clean the palace from top to bottom without missing a thing. No, this had to have come from the journal. But my question is why did my mother keep such a cryptic note?”
Grayson backed away. “I can’t help you with that.”
She folded the note and slipped it back in the journal. It was just one more mystery where her mother was concerned. Annabelle would try to figure it out, but later. Right now, she had to convince Grayson that Mirraccino was a good fit for Fo Shizzle.
“We should go over those financial projections now.” She glanced at him, hoping he’d be agreeable. “Unless you have other plans.”
He shook his head. “I’m all yours.”
His words set her stomach aquiver with nervous energy. She knew he’d meant nothing intimate by the words, but it didn’t stop her mind from wondering what if?
* * *
A couple of hours later, Annabelle stared across the antique mahogany table in the library at Grayson. She’d successfully answered all of his questions about the financial projections and the future of the South Shore.
