Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Harriet
Harlan’s gaze goes dark as soon as Kip mentions the fire.
Kip could not suck more! And what’s up with the staring match between Harlan and Alexandru?
“We weren’t seriously asking about it,” I stammer.
Alexandru sets a protective hand on my shoulder. “We’d heard some discussion about a fire. I’m interested in preservation.”
“So I understand, Mr. Miramonte,” Harlan says, making a big show that he knows who Alexandru is and all that goes on in the town.
They talk about the restoration, but my mind is short-circuiting from Alexandru’s protective and possessive hand on my shoulder. It feels heavy and good and a little bit dangerous.
“Hands off, buddy,” I whisper-breathe, so softly even my ears can’t hear it.
“And what drew you to Kingston Manor?” Harlan asks.
Alexandru removes his hand from my shoulder, smiling broadly at Harlan. “The cliff.”
Harlan blinks, uncertain if it’s a joke or a threat, then barks out a fake-sounding laugh. But they don’t stop looking at each other.
Awkward.
“And you’re inquiring about an insignificant, months-ago fire because...”
“Alexandru’s from Eastern Europe,” I explain. “A place called Karsovia. He has a castle back home with actual torches on the walls, so naturally he’s interested.”
Kip makes a face. “He’s interested in a small curtain fire because he’s from a castle with torches?”
Kip, never missing a chance to shit-stir. I shoot him a look, the visual equivalent of kicking him in the shin.
Alexandru smiles at Harlan. It’s a beautiful smile. A devastating smile.
Harlan turns to Kip. “You’re carding everyone, I presume?”
“Absolutely,” Kip says, grinning. “Go ahead. Try me. Order a drink.”
“No, thank you.” Harlan nods stiffly at the group of us and marches off.
I exhale sharply. “Seriously?” I say to Kip. “Are you trying to get me banned from the entire state of Ohio?”
Kip’s grinning. “Harlan’s so uptight about that fire. Hilarious.” Then he turns to Alexandru and goes pale from whatever he sees on Alexandru’s face. “I was just fooling around,” Kip mutters.
Alexandru says nothing.
“A joke,” Kip adds desperately.
“A joke isn’t funny if you’re the only one laughing,” I put in, because honestly.
Kip mumbles something, managing to sound both offended and cowed.
“Let me ask you this,” I say. “Was Whitney the wedding planner at the champagne tower collapse wedding?”
Kip furrows his brow. “Can’t remember.”
“Was she the wedding planner for the wedding with the curtain fire?”
“I don’t know. They all kind of blend together. Why? You think Whitney had something to do with the accidents?” Kip lights up with glee. “Shit, are you thinking that because of the Schmidt chairs incident?”
I go still. “The what?”
Kip’s face brightens. “You don’t know about that?”
“No.”
“There’s a rumor that Whitney sabotaged some chairs at the Schmidt Mansion. Maybe six or seven months back?”
I exchange glances with Alexandru. What?!?!!?
“An elderly woman got hurt.” He lowers his voice further. “You know Denny Cole, the handyman?”
I lean in. “Granabelle knows him.”
“Denny the handyman was telling everybody who’d listen that Whitney loosened chair legs right before a wedding ceremony in the Schmidt Mansion’s great hall. Total disaster. She had a beef of some sort with the owner. You should talk to Denny. He’ll tell you. He’ll tell you all day long.”