Chapter 10
“Did I catch you at a bad time?”
Morgan stifled a yawn and glanced at the kitchen clock. “I’m barely out of bed.”
“Lazy bones,” Quinn teased. “All the festivities have worn you out.”
“I guess so.” Morgan switched her cell phone to her other ear. “I was thinking about what to have for breakfast. It’s a toss-up between oatmeal and a bowl of raisin bran cereal.”
“Boring,” Quinn sing-songed. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you swing by a fast-food joint, grab a couple breakfast sandwiches and hash browns and meet me at the art gallery? I have something I want to show you.”
“What is it?”
“A surprise.”
“Fine. Give me a few minutes to get ready.” Morgan ended the call and made a beeline for the shower. She thought about her conversation with her grandmother and the shocking news about Brett having been married. Hopefully, he would confide in Quinn. Or maybe he didn’t think the time was right, that they weren’t far enough into their relationship where she needed to know, especially after she’d been wishy-washy about moving back to Easton Island.
Chester, who sat patiently waiting for Morgan to finish her shower, followed her to the bedroom closet.
“What should I wear? The weather is going to be a little chilly, but not too cold. Stretchy pants and a T-shirt, you say? What a great suggestion, Chester. I think I’ll go with that.”
Morgan made quick work of dressing. She ran a comb through her damp hair, deciding not to bother with makeup, and grabbed her purse.
Her pup, determined not to be left behind, was hot on her heels, down the steps and to the SUV. Because Looking Glass Cottage was near the center of the island and close to the Canadian side, it didn’t take long for them to reach Easton Harbor.
First things first. She grabbed the breakfast Quinn requested and took a side street shortcut to the downtown district.
Exiting the vehicle, Chester made a beeline for the gallery’s front door. They stepped inside and found Quinn standing behind the counter, beaming from ear to ear.
“I’ll have you know I was the last person at the drive-thru to get these egg, bacon and cheese sandwiches.” Morgan set the bag on the counter.
“Were they out of hash browns? I hope not because I’ve been craving some greasy goodness.”
“I bought three and even had them throw in packets of catsup.” Morgan eyed the fancy coffeemaker on the nearby coffee bar. “I didn’t buy drinks.”
“Good. Because we have the best coffee in town.” Quinn hustled over to the coffeemaker. She whipped up a fresh batch and handed a cup to Morgan. “Thank you for the food. What do I owe you?”
“An explanation about why you lured Chester and me out of our comfy, cozy home this early in the morning.” Morgan handed her a sandwich and two of the hash browns before grabbing hers and unfolding the wrapper.
“Any guesses?”
“Brett proposed.”
Her friend, who had taken a big bite of food, began gagging.
Morgan giggled, gently pounding her on the back. “I didn’t mean to make you choke.”
Quinn, her eyes watering, took a sip of coffee. “That came out of nowhere.”
“Maybe. I mean. It’s always a possibility. I guess I’m not on the right track.”
“Not even close.”
“You traded your car in for the sporty SUV you’ve had your eye on.”
“Nah. I decided against it, seeing how I can walk almost everywhere…to work, to the grocery store. I would be crazy to buy a car I’ll hardly ever drive.”
“Good point. Give me a hint.”
“It has to do with work.”
Morgan snapped her fingers. “You finally got your special certification.”
Quinn had been working on becoming certified in art gallery management, a goal she’d had on her to-do list for several years. It wasn’t something Elizabeth had asked her to do, but had encouraged her.
“Yep.” Quinn reached into the drawer, removed a sheet of embossed paper and waved it in the air. “Signed, sealed, delivered. It’s mine.”
“Congrats!” Morgan whooped. “I know how hard you’ve been working on this.”
“Harder than I care to admit. I’m going to frame it and hang it on the wall.”
“Good for you. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you. I’m proud of myself. I guess this makes me a legitimate art gallery manager.”
“You have been for a while now, but if a piece of paper makes it more official, why not?” Morgan lifted her coffee cup. “A toast.”
Quinn followed suit. “To fancy titles and moving onward.”
“As long as you’re not moving outward,” Morgan joked. “As in leaving now that you’re a big shot.”
“No way. I’m here to stay.”
While they ate, the friends chatted about the upcoming housewarming / sleepover at Quinn’s place. “My guest bedroom is ready to go. I figure the futon will do in a pinch. The third person will have to sleep on the couch.”
“Which is comfortable,” Morgan said. “I don’t mind taking the couch.”
“Or I can sleep there and let someone have my bed.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
Chester, who had been monitoring their meal, pawed at Morgan’s leg. “Sorry, buddy. I got so excited about Quinn’s news I wasn’t paying attention.” She tore off a chunk of egg and fed it to him. “The house seems a little quiet, but at least I have this rug rat to keep me company.”
“You’re lucky.” Quinn’s smile faded. “I wish I had a Chester to keep me company.”
The pup cocked his head, his ears rotating at the mention of his name.
“He knows we’re talking about him,” Morgan said.
“That’s because he’s such a smarty pa-tarty.”
“I must’ve been hungrier than I thought.” Morgan polished off the last bite of her sandwich and cleared the counter, just in time for a customer to arrive. Her heart sank when she realized it was Edward Ryze.
Thinking Quinn might need some backup, she coaxed her dog behind the counter and stood alongside her friend.
“Hello, Ms. Schultz.” He held the artwork in question in front of him. “I’m here to collect my refund for this fake piece of art.”
“You’ll need to speak with Mrs. Easton, the gallery owner,” Quinn said.
“Where is she?”
“Not here.”
He rolled his eyes. “As if I can’t see that for myself. When will she be in?”
Quinn stepped in front of the computer. “Mrs. Easton will be here tomorrow morning when the gallery opens.”
He turned on his heel. “Fine. I’ll be back in the morning.” Ryze reached for the door handle. “I filed a police report regarding the fake artwork. I’m sure the authorities will be contacting you. Have they been by?”
“Who?”
“The authorities.” Ryze heaved a heavy sigh. “Do you give a straight answer on anything?”
“It depends on who is asking.”
Morgan quickly turned so he wouldn’t see the smile on her face. She almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost.
“You’re an annoying woman.”
“I would say the same about you,” Quinn replied. “You’re an annoying man.”
“It’s Mr. Ryze to you,” he gritted out. “I’ll be back.”
“See you then.” Quinn smiled brightly.
Morgan waited until he was gone. “I bet he’s going to need an aspirin after that conversation.”
“He’s rude.”
“A rude dude who is trying to pull a fast one. At least you’ll be able to give Grandmother a heads-up before tomorrow. I almost feel sorry for him.”
“For Ryze?”
Morgan nodded.
“Because when he shows up to face Elizabeth again, he’s going to find out she won’t roll over and give him what he wants.”
“Nope. I know one thing about Grandmother. When she digs in her heels, she won’t back down.”