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But I didn’t feel like doing that. Maybe make it a last resort or something, but I could use this to take my mind off whatever was happening with the Texas contract. Pressing the heel of my hand to my eyes, I moved from the table, grabbed my handbag, and headed out to my car.
The town was sluggishly empty, which was normal after the harvest boom. The museum was closer than the bank, so I went there first. I had known the curator, a lady named Cécile, my whole life, first because she was Mom’s friend and second because she had been the guide for every museum field I’d had at elementary school. For a while, I’d heartily believed she was immortal because she had not aged a day in her life.
Her silver hair was still in the severe bob I knew it to be for years back, and her brown eyes were sharp as ever over her half-moons.
“Mia, darling.” She smiled at seeing me. “I have missed you so. How are things, love?”
“Good,” I smiled. “Very good, in fact. I would love to catch up, but I need to go through the collection Dad left here. Are all the things in display or…”
“No.” She shook her head. “We have those on rotation. There are some stuff still in the vault if you want to see those first.”
“I think…” I considered it, “…yes. That might be best.”
“May I know what prompted this sudden visit?” she asked as we took off down a corridor towards the basement. “Did your dad send you? He’s not been around here, well, since he donated the treasures to our department.”
“No, he hasn’t sent me,” I replied. “It just so happened that a box was unearthed on our land, and it looks old, like very old. I’ve considered having one of your guys look at it, but first, I want to see where it came from or if there is any clue as to whom it might have belonged to.”
“Ah,” she nodded as we took the stairs down. “Sounds very mysterious, by the way. You don’t think it contains clues to buried treasure?”
I laughed. “I don’t think any of my ancestors were pirates, but if it does have such a thing, I’ll hand it all over to you.”
“Why, thank you, my darling.” Cécile laughed as she punched in the code to the vault. I followed her to a nook where the plaqueSullivan Estatestood over it in brushed copper. She handed me a pair of cloth gloves. “Push the button there when you’re finished, and I’ll come get you.”
With a smile, I set my bag aside, wore the gloves, and began looking through the things. I pulled out a drawer, touched old winemaking equipment, and gazed at old portraits. I knew it would be a stretch to think I would find the key here—it was probably lost or destroyed a year ago—but looking at my family’s things, the family tree portrait when great-great-grandfather Elias Sullivan had married Maude Renier, the lines down to their kids and grandkids, only made me that much determined to take over our family’s business.
I crouched and pulled out a drawer and found an old book wrapped in leather inside. Gently pulling it out, I turned the cover to see the faded, yellow-aged pages with surprisingly legible words.
Who owned this?
I turned the pages slowly and saw a repeated name, Sarah—was that her name? Turning to the family tree, I traced the lines down to find Sarah Sullivan; she was the third child of great-grandfather Solomon, my dad’s great-aunt. Her brother, a middle child, was her dad’s grandfather.
But what had happened to her? Why had I never heard about her before? Dad had told me about his grandfather, whom he had known as a child, but he had never mentioned his aunt. Had she died? Those times, the slightest infection could kill you. Dysentery, measles, smallpox, the plague…well, not the last one. She hadn’t lived in 1666 England.
I paged through a few more of the diary and spotted words likelove,moonlight,andsweet kisses,but I didn’t spot a name. Or maybe I thought I hadn’t. Either way, I was taking this home tonight to look through it.
Could it be that those sweet kisses had come from another woman, and she couldn’t name her paramour because, in those times, being different was a mortal crime? Had they shipped her off to a convent or something?
I pressed the button, and about five minutes later, Cécile came to let me out. I held up the diary, “I will be borrowing this, but I’ll return it as soon as I’m finished. In mint condition, well, same condition I took it with.”
She laughed. “Sure, dear. I need you to sign a few forms, and you’ll be off.”
Half an hour later, though, I wasn’t home. I’d gone to Mix’D and had their black bean burger again—by my lonesome—in a shadowed part of the restaurant. After ordering a cocktail, I didn’t want to go home.
Home felt… dreary, and as far as I had checked with Jackson, the Texas guys still had not responded. I still didn’t know what to do about me and Ethan, and if I went home, I would think myself into a headache about it.
I just wanted a few hours of distraction, and the guys at the bar were setting up for another show. It wouldn’t kill me to enjoy a few hours here, would it?
Reaching up, I pulled the hair tie and let my hair down, dug my fingers into my scalp, and massaged the tense feeling away.
“…You should let your hair down a lot more,” Ethan said behind me right as he slipped into the seat beside mine. “It makes you look less of a ballbuster.”
I laughed. “Not once in my life have I ever been called that.”
“Put in the bank then,” he shrugged. “You’ll be one soon.”
“Nice of you to think that, but—” I sighed “—the card I have is taking me to the cleaners.”
“Reshuffle the damn deck,” Ethan replied, his eyes meeting mine. “You’re going to take over the winery.”
