Chapter 7
seven
“I’LL LEAVE YOU kids to it, then.”
Daniel looked up from the inventory book in his hands and frowned at his aunt. There was something knowing in Aretha’s tone. At least, that’s what it sounded like to him. Then again, he’d never understood women his own age. Why should it be different with older women?
But he couldn’t shake the idea that she was implying something . Even if he didn’t know what it was.
After nodding toward Aretha, he looked back at Ruby, who was holding up a globe at eye level. Her focus intent on the antique, she said only, “See you tonight.”
Aretha waved and disappeared, closing the door behind her, leaving him and Ruby alone. With about three hundred pieces that needed to be inventoried and eventually moved to the front of the store and sold. But for now, newly acquired pieces filled the storeroom. The shelves that lined each wall were packed with dishes, clocks, and sundry knickknacks. And the open cement floor was a maze of furniture and larger items, all with a distinct island charm.
Actually, the storeroom didn’t look much different from the front of the store. Save a thick layer of dust. Aretha kept her items for sale neatly dusted, and if she had invested in Swiffer years ago, she could have retired before she broke her foot. Before she left him alone with Ruby, inferring whatever it was she had been inferring.
He scowled. It didn’t matter what Aretha thought they’d be up to alone in the room. Daniel knew what needed to be done. And thanks to Whitney, he knew how to do it.
“Ruby.”
She set the globe down, satisfied with its condition, and turned to a lantern that had once sat in the top of a lighthouse. “This is enormous. So much bigger than they look from a distance. Or out at sea, I guess. Must have been for a really big lighthouse.”
“Probably not. Just an older one.” The lantern was no taller than his waist, but the newer lights didn’t need to be bigger. They just used better magnification.
“Huh.” Ruby cocked her head and glared at the glass panels that had once extended the light over the water. “Well, it seems plenty big to me. I mean, any bigger and it would just take over a whole room.”
“Good thing they weren’t made to go inside homes then.”
Ruby’s gaze snapped to him, her blue eyes sparking with something that made him want to back up slowly and then run very, very quickly. His words may have come out a bit sharper than he’d intended.
That probably wasn’t the way to start a conversation in which he was going to ask for a favor. Well, it wasn’t strictly a favor. He just needed her on his side.
A side that probably wouldn’t look very appealing from where she stood.
He opened his mouth to say something. Only he didn’t know how to say it. He’d spoken the truth before, but women didn’t always like the truth. At least in his experience.
After several long seconds of silence, Ruby huffed and turned her back to him. “Mark it as acceptable.” Whipping around to the rolltop desk beside her, she shoved the sleeves of her sleek blue sweater to her elbows and opened drawers.
Daniel did as she ordered, putting a black check mark next to the line item.
Time to get them back on track. He just needed to ... how had Whitney put it?
The corner of his mouth pinched upward of its own accord at the mere thought of the way Whitney’s frenzy of hair had glowed beneath the market lights the day before. She’d almost had a halo, and he let his mind wander for a moment, picturing angels with wild honey-colored curls.
Whitney would know what to say to smooth over his last faux pas too. But she was probably back in the inn’s kitchen, rebuilding her supply of pies for the next fair, flour on her apron and hair frizzy about her face.
He’d rather be there helping her. Or, more likely, getting in her way.
Clearing his throat, he forced his face to a neutral expression. Not that Ruby was looking at him. She was too busy rolling the desk’s top up and down. It stuck for a second but then slid along smoothly.
“Aretha acquires quality pieces, eh?” he said.
Ruby shot a glance in his direction. “She does have a good eye.”
Okay, this was good. Progress, maybe. At least she wasn’t glaring at him anymore like he’d insulted her. Though he still wasn’t entirely sure he had the first time.
Pointing to a row of blue and red leather-bound books on a shelf, Ruby said, “We’ll keep these too.”
He added a check mark. “According to her records, Aretha paid a fair market price for the first editions.”
“I’m sure.”
With Ruby’s back turned, he took a sustaining breath and blurted out the words that had been looking for an opening. “Shouldn’t the quilters get fair market value for their products too?”
She froze, her neck like steel. Even the hair in her ponytail got the message and refused to be budged by the breeze from the ceiling fan that moved heated air through the otherwise stale room. Slowly she turned toward him, her eyes narrowed. “We’ve had a lot of success with local artisans in other markets.”
“Sure. And you can here too. Why not just buy the quilts from the quilters and keep the inventory?”
Ruby set down the gilded picture frame she’d been holding and dabbed the back of her wrist against her forehead. He didn’t point out the stripe of dust across the stomach of her sweater.
“Aretha included them in the original inventory,” she said, sounding like she’d already tired of this discussion.
“But the store is a fair price without the quilts.”
She inclined her chin in a gesture that said she’d heard him—not that she agreed with him. “The offer was for everything on the original list with adjustments to be made for any inventory deemed inadequate.” With a graceful sweep of her arm, she indicated the items in the storeroom and exactly what they were doing.
Daniel clapped his hand to the back of his neck, his chin falling to his chest. “And you’ve decided that twenty-five quilts—what amounts to about ten grand—is worth losing the whole acquisition?”
Ruby shook her head. “You know that Aretha won’t let this opportunity pass. She hasn’t had any other offers for a reason.”
Tapping his pen against the open inventory book, he frowned. True enough, there wasn’t a crowd of buyers fighting to buy a small store like this. But it didn’t mean Aretha was desperate.
“Aretha can do whatever she wants to with the money we’re paying her.” Ruby picked up some sort of chicken-shaped knickknack and scowled at it. “If she wants to pay for the quilts out of that, she absolutely can.”
“But that would be shortchanging her.” Daniel wanted to add that this money was her pension. It would allow her and Jack to travel, to treat their grandkids. But Ruby wasn’t interested in sentiment.
She sighed. “No one is losing here. The amount we’ve proposed is fair. However Aretha chooses to spend it.”
“But at what cost? Either you’re taking advantage of Aretha or the local artists. Do you think that’s going to earn you any favors with the rest of the community?”
“All 607 of the local residents?” She snorted dismissively and shook her head. “Which probably includes Marie’s baby. And I doubt she’s doing much shopping here. We’re counting on the tourists.”
“Yes...” He dragged the word out and then took a deep breath, summoning his best impression of Whitney. “But who do you think points people to this store? This community recommends each other. With every cone bought at the ice cream shop on the boardwalk. Every kayak that’s rented. Every chocolate croissant from the bakery. Those business owners point customers here.”
Her eyes narrowed, and he jumped to continue.
“They won’t if you’ve shorted their moms and grandmas. They’ll warn people away.”
Dusting her hands at her waist, she frowned. He could practically see the numbers crunching behind her eyes. “I’ll look into it.”
Whitney nearly dropped her pie when the inn’s back door slammed and Aretha pranced into the kitchen through the mudroom. She practically twirled as she unwound the red scarf from her neck.
“Oh, it’s such a lovely day to fall in love, don’t you think?” Aretha sighed.
“Um . . .” Whitney closed the oven and set the timer. “I suppose . . .”
Plopping onto one of the stools and propping her elbows against the island’s white-tiled countertop, Aretha rested her chin on her fists.
Whitney couldn’t help but laugh at the older woman’s antics. “Been doing a little matchmaking, have you?”
“I just left Daniel and Ruby together for a whole afternoon, practically locked in the storeroom.”
Her stomach did an unpleasant flip, and she stumbled to understand why. “You, um, you locked them in there?”
“Of course not. But I may have suggested that we really need to get the inventory onto the floor, so they had better finish up in there today.” Unbuttoning her coat, Aretha giggled like a woman half her age. Check that. A quarter of her age. Her gray curls bounced, and her pale eyes shone with pure delight. “It was just a little bit of encouragement, really.”
“So, your plan is...” Whitney didn’t quite know what she wanted to ask, so her voice trailed off.
“Our plan, dear.” Aretha winked. “ Our plan.”
Whitney nearly swallowed her tongue. This certainly hadn’t been her idea. Not a week ago when Aretha had hatched it, and certainly not now that Daniel had told her about Ruby’s disregard for the quilters.
Hypothetically.
Filling the sink with sudsy water, she wrinkled her nose as she tried to ask what she couldn’t seem to. “The plan is—that is, do you really think—I mean—” She picked up a slippery ceramic bowl, which splashed into the dishwater. When she glanced over her shoulder with an apologetic smile, Aretha was staring at her, a concerned frown wrinkling her white eyebrows.
“Honey?”
Picking up the bowl with a firmer grip, Whitney took a deep breath. “Do you think Ruby and Daniel are a good fit?”
An airy laugh tittered through the room. “Is that what’s bothering you?”
Whitney wanted to nod, but there was still something gnawing at her insides, hungry for the whole truth.
Ruby wasn’t good enough for Daniel.
There. That was it. The crux of the issue. Ruby was trying to take advantage of Aretha and the town’s quilters and ... well, the situation. And didn’t Daniel deserve someone with more integrity? Surely Aretha wanted the very best for her nephew.
Aretha stood and poured herself a cup of coffee from the endless pot on the counter. “They’re perfect together. He’s a serious young man and needs someone equally as driven.”
Or maybe he needed someone who could drive away his perpetual scowl.
Not that Whitney had any idea how to do that. But there had to be someone who could make him smile. Maybe it was Ruby.
She pictured the professional’s tight expression, prim posture, and chattering ways.
Probably not.
Ruby would never laugh at his turkey hat. And Whitney was pretty sure a chuckle had been what he was going for. Even if he hadn’t spared one himself.
“He needs someone who can move in the same circles at work.” Taking a slow sip of her coffee, Aretha seemed to give herself a mental nod of affirmation. “Ruby can host dinner parties and talk business with his new colleagues. She can advise him and encourage him.”
She certainly looked the part with her sleek hair and tailored outfits. Ruby would fit right in with the other businesspeople.
The berry pie filling Whitney had sampled earlier turned suddenly sour in her stomach. She would never fit into Daniel’s life.
Not that she wanted to. Or had any business even pondering such a thought. It was a nonissue, a never-would-be. She barely even knew the guy.
Moreover, she had her own plans that did not involve Daniel Franklin. And she was mostly sure she wanted to pursue them. If only to show her mom and dad that she could. That she would .
“Besides, I’m not sure he knows what he needs,” Aretha said. “Not after Lauren.”
Right. Lauren. His ... someone from the past. Something that had ended badly.
She wanted to ask what had happened, if Lauren was the reason for the sadness in his eyes. But she had no business pok ing into that. Her dad would say that was how gossip started—asking questions about someone who wasn’t there. Questions that didn’t need to be asked. Questions that couldn’t help.
She wouldn’t be digging in for Daniel’s sake but to slake her own curiosity. So she bit back her queries and rinsed her dishes until Aretha spoke again.
“He needs someone stable. Not someone flighty or...”
Whitney glanced over her shoulder to find Aretha staring dreamily off into space, probably completely oblivious to the jab of her words.
Even if Aretha hadn’t meant it that way, Whitney could practically hear the end of that sentence ringing out. After all, her dad had reminded her regularly. “Quit being so flaky, Whitney. Pick something and stick with it.”
Her stomach twisted again.
Well, she had. Culinary school. That was her plan. Until...
No. There was no until . There was nothing better coming around the bend. There was only culinary school. A job as a pastry chef. Her desserts delighting foodies across the island.
The end. Decision made.
This wasn’t like nursing school at UPEI. It wasn’t like the expensive fiddle she’d put down after a month. Or the high school theater production she’d dropped out of after two weeks.
Culinary school was her future.
Aretha sighed, pulling Whitney back into their conversation. “He needs someone like Ruby in his life.”
“But how do you know Ruby is the right one? Maybe there’s someone—I don’t know—better for him.” Someone who wasn’t trying to take advantage of their community.
A slow grin settled across Aretha’s wrinkled face. “Perhaps she needs someone like Daniel.” With a wink she added, “I think she’ll prove herself yet.”
Aretha had to be talking about the negotiations, and surely she knew more about what was being discussed in hushed conversations over the breakfast table.
Whitney tried to shake off the unease, but the knot in her stomach remained. “I’m just not sure they’re ... suited for each other.”
Aretha’s features turned thoughtful, her face wrinkling more than usual as she plucked at the skin below her chin. Finally she asked, “Do you want out of our deal?”
“No!” Whitney blurted out, but a brick lodged in her throat as soon as she said it. Because she did want to back out of their agreement. Actually, she’d never wanted to be part of it in the first place.
The trouble was that Aretha’s offer to chip in for school was her only safety net. And, if she was honest, it was her only real hope of making tuition for the next term. Her pies had been selling, but the profit margins were so low that she’d have to sell a thousand more before Christmas to hold her place at the school.
Yet Aretha’s help came with strings.
The strings weren’t the problem. They’d been on the table since the start. The problem was how easily Whitney had been swayed by them. How she was so quickly convinced with a brief reminder of the money.
She dropped her chin to her chest and took in a tight breath. “No. I’m not going to back out. I just want to make sure we don’t waste our time.”
“Trust me.” Aretha chuckled. “I set up Marie and Seth. Caden and Adam too. And I knew Natalie and Justin were meant to be from the time they were kids. I see the same something special between Daniel and Ruby.”