Chapter 15 #2
Chelsea was about to protest when the gallery door opened again. This time, it was Linda herself who entered, wearing a pale blue dress that Chelsea had never seen before. Her hair was freshly styled, and there was definitely lipstick involved.
"Good morning, Jacqui," Linda began, then stopped short when she saw Chelsea. "Oh. I didn't realize you worked here now."
Chelsea smiled with saccharine sweetness. "Just helping out on weekends. Jacqui needs an experienced eye when she's busy with new acquisitions."
Linda's gaze narrowed slightly, as if sensing ulterior motives but unable to pinpoint them. "How...community-minded of you."
"I live to serve," Chelsea replied.
Linda turned to Jacqui, visibly deciding to ignore Chelsea's presence.
"I wanted to check if you're still interested in the joint advertising we discussed.
The Chronicle is planning a special section on island businesses for the summer edition, and your previous quarter-page ad would fit nicely on page three. "
"Actually," Jacqui said, "I was thinking of upgrading to a half-page. The spring showing was successful enough to justify the expense."
Linda's face lit up with genuine pleasure. "Wonderful! I'll make a note of that. Would you prefer the same design, or shall I have our graphic artist create something new?"
As the two women discussed advertising layouts, Chelsea observed Linda with the keen eye of someone who had known her for over a decade.
There was something different about her today, beyond the dress and makeup.
A lightness in her movements, perhaps. A softness around the eyes that had not been there before.
It was, Chelsea had to admit, rather touching.
The bell above the door jingled again, and all three women turned to see Maggie entering, a look of surprise crossing her face at finding this particular gathering.
"Well," she said, taking in the scene. "Isn't this cozy?"
"Maggie," Linda acknowledged with a nod that was almost friendly. "I was just discussing advertising with Jacqui."
"And I was just helping customers," Chelsea added virtuously.
Maggie's eyes twinkled with knowing amusement. "Of course you were."
"Did you need something, Maggie?" Jacqui asked. "We just got in those sea glass pieces you admired last month."
"Actually," Maggie said, "I was hoping to find Chelsea. Paolo mentioned he saw her heading this way earlier."
Linda glanced at her watch. "I should be getting back to the office. I have an editorial to finish before noon." She turned to Jacqui. "Why don't you stop by later today to discuss the design options? Say, around four? I'll have some examples ready."
"Perfect," Jacqui agreed. "I'll bring the photos of the new pieces we might want to feature."
With a brief nod to Maggie and Chelsea, Linda departed, the scent of her floral perfume lingering in the air behind her.
As soon as the door closed, Maggie turned to Chelsea, eyebrows raised. "So this is where you've been hiding all morning. Iris said you didn’t even stop by for scones and coffee. When I heard that I got worried. Are you hiding from us?”
"I wasn't hiding," Chelsea protested. "I was working. Gainfully employed, contributing to the island economy."
"She's spying on Linda," Jacqui said flatly, moving to straighten a display that had been disturbed by the morning's customers.
"I'm gathering intelligence," Chelsea corrected. "And you'll never guess who came in first thing this morning, looking for a gift for a 'hypothetical' woman who sounds remarkably like our newspaper editor."
Maggie's eyes widened. "Byron?"
"The very same," Chelsea confirmed with satisfaction. "Nervous as a teenager before prom. Bought a watercolor of the marina."
"No." Maggie gasped, properly impressed.
"Oh yes." Chelsea nodded. "And that's not all. Did you notice Linda’s dress? Blue, with actual styling—and lipstick. She says she's meeting Jacqui later to 'discuss advertising,' which I'm certain is just an excuse to linger in case Byron happens to stop by again. She absolutely knows he was here."
"You're incorrigible," Maggie said, though she couldn't hide her smile. "Both of you," she added, including Jacqui in her mock disapproval.
"I'm innocent," Jacqui protested. "I'm just trying to run a business. Chelsea's the one who practically interrogated Byron about his 'hypothetical' gift recipient."
"I was providing artistic consultation." Chelsea sniffed. "It's not my fault he's transparent as glass when it comes to his intentions."
Maggie shook her head, but her expression was fond.
"Well, since you're here actually working—" the word was heavily weighted with skepticism, "—I won't keep you.
I just wanted to let you know that Emma and Gareth are coming for dinner tonight.
Sarah and Trevor too. We thought you and Steven might like to join us. "
"Emma's still pregnant, then? No baby yet?" Chelsea asked.
"Still waiting," Maggie confirmed. "Though at this point, I think she'd welcome labor just to end the suspense. They've put an offer on the Maxwell cottage, by the way."
"Really? That was fast," Chelsea remarked. "Well, I wouldn't miss dinner. What time?"
"Seven. Paolo's grilling."
"I'll bring dessert," Chelsea promised, already mentally reviewing her pantry for ingredients.
After Maggie left, Jacqui turned to Chelsea with a questioning look. "You're really invested in Linda's love life, aren't you? I mean, beyond the usual island gossip level."
Chelsea's usual flippant response died on her lips. After a moment, she said more seriously, "It's not just about the gossip. Though I won't pretend that's not entertaining."
"What then?"
Chelsea gazed out the window. "Several reasons, the first being that this island can’t take one more season of ‘Grumpy Lindy’ and, well…
Linda's been alone for as long as I've known her.
Married to that newspaper, determined to uphold every tradition and standard, no matter how outdated.
And Byron's been drowning in grief since Louise died. "
She turned back to Jacqui, her expression softening. "I suppose I like the idea that it's never too late. That even the most set-in-their-ways people can surprise you. Can surprise themselves…even Linda."
Jacqui studied her mentor with newfound understanding. "That's...unexpectedly romantic of you, Chelsea."
"Don't tell anyone," Chelsea said, her usual briskness returning. "I have a reputation to maintain."
Just then, the sound of a phone ringing came clearly through the wall, followed by Linda's professional greeting: "Captiva Chronicle, Linda St. James speaking."
There was a pause, then: "Byron! What a...what a pleasant surprise."
Chelsea and Jacqui froze, identical expressions of delighted disbelief crossing their faces.
"Yes, I'm well, thank you. The deadline pressure is always there, of course, but...yes, exactly. You understand."
Another pause.
"This evening? Well, I...yes, I suppose I could. The editorial will be finished by then."
Chelsea pressed her hand over her mouth to contain a squeal of excitement. Jacqui leaned against the desk, openly eavesdropping now.
"Seven o'clock? That sounds...lovely."
The word "lovely" emerged from Linda's mouth with the tentativeness of someone trying a foreign phrase for the first time.
"I look forward to it as well. Goodbye, Byron."
The click of the phone being replaced in its cradle was followed by what sounded suspiciously like a small, giddy laugh—a sound so unexpected coming from Linda St. James that Chelsea and Jacqui exchanged stunned looks.
"Did she just..." Jacqui whispered.
"Giggle? I think she did," Chelsea confirmed, awestruck. "The ice queen giggled."
For a moment, they both stood in reverent silence, processing this seismic shift in the island's social tectonics. Then Chelsea's face split into a triumphant grin.
"Wait until I tell Maggie," she declared, already reaching for her phone. "Island romance is officially in bloom. And I have front-row seats to the whole blossoming affair."
"You're terrible," Jacqui said, but she was smiling too.
"Terribly right," Chelsea corrected, her fingers flying across her phone screen.
"Of course," Jacqui agreed dryly. "Now, about that inventory spreadsheet..."
But Chelsea was already lost in composing her text to Maggie, her sabbatical from painting temporarily forgotten in the face of this far more compelling island drama.
After all, what was art compared to the unexpected romance blossoming next door?
Some stories, Chelsea decided, were too good not to witness firsthand.
And if that meant enduring an uncomfortable desk chair and an ancient computer for a few weekends, well...that was a small price to pay for such entertainment.