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“Ten,” he admitted. “But you know how it is with a small business. It takes all your time.”
“When you let it.” I shook my head. “Look, I know you’re probably not even interested in selling, but what if selling actually gave you a chance at a new life. A life you’ve been meaning to live since you took over the family business. We all have an expiration date. Do you want to experience yours in this beautiful office? Or on a yacht sailing the Mediterranean Sea? It’s your choice.”
Matty picked up his soda and finished it. Then he took his shirt sleeve and wiped up the moisture the can had left on the desk. “You make a good argument. Danielle has my asking price. If you’re okay with that, I’ll consider selling. I would like to see Greece.”
He didn’t add, before I die, but I could see the wheels turning in his head. I’d made my pitch and that was all I could do. I stood and thanked him for his time. Then Danielle, who was staring back and forth at the two of us like we were crazy stood as well. “Eddie and I will write up an offer and get it to you tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He smiled and stood to shake our hands. When he reached out to me, he said, “I am so sorry about your grandmother. I knew her back when we were both young and foolish.”
His terminology made me smile. “I’ve never known my grandmother to be either of those things, but I’d love to hear stories.”
He clasped a second hand over mine. “Maybe the next time we meet we can have lunch and I’ll tell my tales.”
“Thank you for your sympathy and your time,” I said as we started out of the office and back to the elevator. “I’m looking forward to talking soon.”
As we rode the elevator down, Danielle blew out a breath. “Well, I hadn’t expected that. Do you still want to see the Garden District property tomorrow?”
“Why not. Write up the offer, I’ll sign it tomorrow and then we’ll go look at another option, just in case he says no.” I didn’t think he would reject our offer. Maybe ask for more money which I’d have to consider before agreeing, but I thought he’d eventually accept. Looking at the Garden District property would give me an idea on what my competition would be. “I haven’t been to the Commander’s Palace in years.”
As we walked toward my hotel where Danielle would catch a cab back to her office, I imagined all the things I could do with the first-floor showroom to bring in customers and local design houses. Danielle was talking about all the advantages of being located in the Garden District. She’s already moved on, thinking that Matty Goldstein was going to say no.
I knew better. Goldstein Antiques was mine. Now all I had to do was sign the paperwork and write a check.
5
I’d brought the car since I’d had to be at the compound later today. Now, I sat outside the old brick building on Royal Street watching a sidewalk sleeper roll up his sleeping bag. It was clear the man had been sleeping huddled in the entry way of Goldstein Antiques. I pulled a ten out of my tote and climbed out of the SUV. The brick sidewalk still showed signs of the party crowd that reveled throughout the French Quarter until early this morning. How the guy actually slept on the hard concrete I didn’t know and I didn’t want to find out.
“I’m not doing nothing.” The man mumbled as I moved toward the doorway. “You all are here way too early. Customers don’t show up until after ten.”
“Who else has been here?” I held out the bill, hoping the man would use it for a meal. He looked gaunt.
With a dirt caked hand, he grabbed the money without looking me in the face. “Just the guy.”
I saw the moment he made the police cruiser slowly driving down the one-way street. He stuffed the bill into his pants and the sleeping bag into a small rollaway cart and took off in the opposite direction.
“So much for having a conversation with the locals.” I waved at the officer inside the cruiser who was now watching me.
The joy and problems of running a business in the historic New Orleans neighborhood had just become my concern. Or had yesterday at two when I’d handed Matty Goldstein a check for the building and all the contents.
Now I owned an antique shop in the heart of the French Quarter I’d never been happier. A black Range Rover pulled up behind my car and I met my brother on the street in front of the shop.
Nic paused on the street, staring at the building. His dark hair was a touch too long and curled over his ears. His dark eyes took in the condition of the building, clearly not impressed. He reached down and picked up a red solo cup from the street. “This is what you get for your inheritance from Grandmother Andrews. Having buyer’s remorse yet?”
“Not on your life, Nic. I’m looking forward to starting this new chapter.” I thought about my recent move home. After settling in Seattle, I’d thought life would keep me far from my Louisiana roots. Instead, I was back. I dug the ring of keys Matty had handed over yesterday and grinned at my brother. “Want to see the inside?”
“Why not. My first appointment isn’t until noon.” Nic threw the cup into an overflowing trash can. “You’ll need to hire someone to clean each morning before your customers arrive. And I don’t want you staying late here. If we don’t keep security on you, call me if you leave after dark and I’ll send someone to follow you home.”
“I found my way home for over ten years in Seattle all by myself. In fact, I’ve been doing it a lot since I turned thirty. Besides, for now, there’s always Bubba.” I waved at the man who sat in a black sedan across the street watching us. I fit the key into the lock. Nic hadn’t needed to show up to help me open the building, but he loved treating me like a child. The door didn’t move after I’d heard the lock engage. Why hadn’t it opened? “That’s weird.”
Nic took the key from me and quickly opened the door. “You don’t think it was left open, do you? Who else has keys to this old firetrap?”
“I don’t know.” The thought worried me as I pushed open the door. The lights were already on, a detail I hadn’t noticed in my haste to get inside. I paused just inside the doorway. “Hello? Is someone there?”
An older woman with her hair in a bun stepped out of a side room. She was dressed in a black pant suit. She peered at us. Probably sizing us up as potential buyers. I’d fallen short in her eyes as her gaze took in my clothes and canvas tote, but her face softened into a smile when she saw Nic’s Rolex. She hadn’t figured out we were related, probably because of my short and currently burgundy hair. Add in the fact Nic was five to six inches taller. We looked as different as night and day. “Good morning early birds. You’re my first customers of the day. What can I help you find?”
“Who are you?” I asked, feeling Nic’s elbow in my side.
The woman blinked but gained her composure quickly. “I’m Sarah Stiner. I’m sure if we don’t have what you’re looking for, I can find it. Who am I helping today?”
