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I reached for a Rookwood vase and picked it up, looking over at Amelia. “Should this really be outside on display?”
Amelia nodded. “It looks like a Rookwood piece, doesn’t it?” She waggled her finger. “But it’s not.”
I stared at the floral motif wrapped around the vase and nodded. “That’s why you’re paid the big bucks.”
Our family’s antique store had been a part of each and every one of us growing up. There wasn’t a school day that went by when we weren’t combing the shelves and looking at these found objects to pass the time after classes let out. But Amelia was the one who had a natural knack for finding the jewel in the middle of junk. She lived and breathed antiques.
I was just happy to have a job that let me stay on the island and read my books during slow times. Although, I did enjoy being surrounded by beautiful and quirky things. It was a perk of the job, but I tended to gravitate toward fanciful objects like an upside-down pink frog with three eyes that worked well as a soap dish.
But I had always been… quirky. I didn’t need a lot to be happy.
One thing I loved to do on a Friday night was grab a good book, head to the bar, and immerse myself in the story between the pages while the world spun around me. I could eat some garlic fries, feel like I'd socialized, and head back home to finish my book. It was my dirty little secret, only because my family assumed I was out dancing the night away.
Amelia chuckled. “It’s a fun piece from the 1950s, but it’s not a Rookwood.”
Lucas snickered, and I flashed him a wry smile.
“Why are you here, anyway? Don’t you have to work or something?” My hand flew to my hip.
The truth was that he came from family money, and although he had several ventures that delivered him mailbox money, his schedule was pretty loose. I’d noticed he’d been stopping by more and more.
Lucas kicked out his feet and linked his fingers behind his head, stretching his long, lean, and very muscular body as his smile deepened. He looked extremely comfortable.
“My schedule opened up today, and I thought, who better to pester than my newly-acquired bestie?”
The shop pug snorted underneath Lucas’s bench. Dottie stretched her paws before placing her chin on them for some shut-eye. She’d heard Lucas’s stories many times.
“We’ve been friends for nearly a year.” I turned slowly with the vase still in my hand and eyed him. “Spill it. What did you do?”
Lucas frowned. “Can’t a guy just stop by to visit his amazing friend?”
My brows lifted as Amelia chuckled and eyed me.
I stomped my foot. “Now, I know you’re up to something.”
The morning chill mingled with the warmth of the sun as I glanced toward the ferry terminal. The tourists would be arriving soon for the long weekend, and I wouldn’t have time to entertain Lucas.
Not to mention, I had three chapters left of a mystery book I was dying to finish at lunch. I was literally counting down the seconds until I could steal away a few minutes to bury myself in the pages. It was also why Chester the squirrel could have been history. I couldn’t stop daydreaming about the story I’d been reading. I was extremely close to finding out whether I was rightor not about who stole a Monet and pulled the trigger while doing so.
And if I were completely honest, I was a little distracted because I’d been stood up last night, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was destined to be single for the rest of my life.
The whirring of a saw blade lifted me back to reality when I glanced down the sidewalk to see scaffolding and a man frantically cutting something underneath.
This just wasn’t the Friday to play hooky with Lucas. The weekend would bring tons of tourists. My sister Mae’s coffee shop was about to open next door. This was the start of our busy spring and summer season.
I loosened my backpack from my shoulder and let out a playful sigh. “Let me go put my things down inside, and you can tell me why you’re actually here.”
Lucas shot up from the bench and winked, which worried me. He followed me inside as I caught my mom pretending not to notice that Lucas was right behind me. She bent down at a jewelry counter and hummed to herself.
The antique store has been in the family for decades and brought me a sense of comfort. The trinkets on the glass shelves didn’t have a sprig of dust on them, and the gleaming shelves themselves reflected the sense of pride our family took in this store. As with the rest of the store, the glass was spotless. A toy car from the 1940s had tipped over, and I instinctively put it upright.
“Good morning, Mrs. Evans.” Lucas waved at my mom, who slowly emerged from the cabinet.
She gave a nod. “Good to see you, Lucas.”
I flashed him a suspicious look as we wandered up the stairs to the offices. It felt like we were suddenly in high school and he was trying to butter up the parents.
Plopping my backpack on a chair, I spun around and stared at Lucas.
