Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Harper
I’d been using art as an escape since that first class I took from Naomi years ago.
Today I’d gone out to the studio to avoid Max. I’d pulled out my polished gemstone collection without a goal beyond busying myself, soothing myself by running my fingers over the smooth surfaces, until Ian got rid of him. Obviously nothing had gone to plan.
The rubies had caught my attention, and I’d mindlessly pulled out all the pieces I had with no project in mind.
After Max’s appearance—or I should say, after kissing the hell out of Max again—I’d decided to turn one of the polished pieces into a ring.
Only once I was halfway through the first stage of the project did it hit me that ruby is known for strengthening courage and passion.
Maybe that’s why I kissed him.
Ha. If only I could blame a little polished rock.
I’d kissed him because, well, he was intense and hot and not expecting it. And fun as hell to kiss.
A better question would be, why wouldn’t a girl kiss him?
Because she liked it too much, maybe, a voice in my head whispered.
I knew he’d told me about his dedication to Danny specifically to remind me there was no chance for something serious between us.
Hard truth: That only made it easier to kiss him.
If I thought he wanted a relationship, I’d run and lock myself in my room.
Max had made it clear there was no chance of a real thing.
Between that and his sexy face and his athletic body? He was tough to resist kissing. That it threw him off-kilter was a bonus.
As I walked down the sidewalk toward Grandma’s Attic, though, the joke might’ve been on me.
I couldn’t get Max out of my mind. How his lips felt.
The way he’d taken less than a second to return the kiss.
Those big hands on my waist, at the small of my back, lightly clutching my ass.
I could easily imagine what it’d be like with no clothing between us and a mattress beneath us.
A smarter girl would promise herself to avoid Max, to stay away from the temptation. I was more apt to get myself in trouble, because honestly? I would not mind getting naked with Max Dawson one bit.
Approaching Mrs. Karasinski’s storefront, I scanned the area for Dakota, who’d easily agreed to meet me here after her shift at Henry’s. I didn’t see her yet.
Movement inside the store caught my eye, and I realized Darius Weber was waving at me. He’d told me he was showing the shop to a prospective business owner before my appointment.
I heard my name and spotted Dakota hurrying toward me from across the square.
“You made it,” I said when she was a few feet away.
“Just got off work. Demand for cold adult beverages is high today, so I’m running late.”
“All good. Darius is still in the shop with someone.”
The door opened then, and Darius greeted us. “Hello, ladies. Why don’t you come in out of the heat.”
“Thanks,” I said as we followed him in.
Grandma’s Attic was an appropriate name and more acceptable in polite circles than, say, Grandma’s Crap Collection.
The store looked the same way it had for years.
It was overflowing with knickknacks and figurines, tchotchkes and trinkets, some of them probably still here from decades ago.
It was like a garage sale with one-of-a-kind items, brand-name collectibles that targeted people Mrs. Karasinski’s age, and a fine and casual dinnerware section that had probably kept Mrs. K in business over the years.
The store as a whole was chaos to the eyes. I was sure some people might see a treasure trove, but I just saw a mess. Always had. Bless that dear woman’s heart.
“We’re running a little behind, so I’m going to leave Cambria down here while I take you two upstairs,” the real estate agent said.
My eyes went to the side of the store he gestured to.
“Cambria Clarke! What are you doing here?” I rushed over to the girl I’d gone to school with. We’d been in the same grade and the same friend group. At least half that group had scattered after high school, most of us growing apart. I knew Cambria lived outside of town.
“Harper! It’s been ages. Hi, Dakota. It’s good to see you both.”
“Hey, Cambria. Are you opening a business?” Dakota asked. Dakota had been a year ahead of us in school, but everyone knew just about everyone in this town.
“I’m…thinking about it.” Cambria glanced at Darius and smiled. “Thinking pretty hard. I want to open a store to sell my candles. This”—she swept her arm out—“is a little more than I’d planned on though.”
I wondered if she meant just square footage, as it was a generous-sized storefront, or if she was also referring to the, uh, shit show of old merchandise.
“It’s a lot for candles,” Dakota said.
“I’ve played with the idea of adding some gift items, home decor, that kind of thing, but I’m not sure. It’s a lot more than I planned to take on.”
My conversation with Max about selling my jewelry popped into my mind, but I kept quiet. That was a crazy thought. As crazy as it’d been when Max had suggested opening my own business.
“You can’t beat the location,” Darius told her. “You’d get the traffic here to sell whatever you decide to sell.”
“That’s true. I wouldn’t have to market as aggressively to get people in during tourist season.” Cambria glanced around thoughtfully again. “Do you mind if I stay a little longer to think about the possibilities?” she asked Darius.
“Not at all,” he answered. “Let me take Harper and Dakota upstairs and get them started. Then I’ll be back down to check on you.”
“Thank you. Good luck, you two.” Cambria waved distractedly and seemed to turn her attention to her thoughts again.
We followed Darius out the back way into a vestibule with an exterior door and a stairway going up.
“Your stairs are inside, which is hard to find in these downtown buildings,” Darius said. “No shoveling or salting in the winter.”
“No shoveling’s a plus considering I don’t own a shovel,” Dakota said.
“Same.” I went up after Darius.
At the top landing, Darius stopped and faced us. “Okay, I need you to go in with an open mind.”
“Oh, hell,” Dakota said. “Is that code for It’s a disaster?”
Darius chuckled, which I didn’t take as a good sign. “Mrs. Karasinski’s apartment is as…full as her store. She’s a sweet lady, but she’s definitely a collector.”
“What you’re saying is it’s a shit show too,” I said, already wondering what other rentals might be available.
I hadn’t started my search in earnest yet, but I was pretty sure there was nothing else downtown.
Places on the square were rare. When someone moved in, they generally stayed for a good long time.
I’d heard when Cash Henry moved in with his then-fiancée, Ava, his apartment above Bergman Hardware had been rented out within six hours.
After living in the country for three years, I wouldn’t mind being within walking distance of everything. We’d have to act fast if we wanted this place.
Darius unlocked the door, then paused before twisting the knob. “You’ll need to squint past the belongings. Look at the structure, the room sizes, the features like the skylight and rooftop patio out back. Focus on the potential.”
“You’re scaring the crap out of me,” Dakota said.
Darius pushed the door open and let us enter first.
“Oh. My. God,” I said.
“You did not exaggerate,” Dakota added.
I blinked and tried to breathe. “I’d say you understated.”
“Is she a hoarder?” Dakota stepped past me, her head going back and forth as she took in all the clutter.
“All of this will be removed within the next week,” Darius assured us. “The owner said she’d replace the floors and paint all the walls. It’s gonna look fantastic once we take out Mrs. K’s belongings.”
“Poor woman,” I said, because she was sweet as pie, but how did someone live like this?
“I know this isn’t ideal,” Darius said with a smile, “but I’ve had three other calls on it today. I’ve got two showings so far tomorrow. I’m not trying to pressure you, because it will be rented fast regardless. I just want you to know that, if you like it, you’ll need to act quickly.”
Dakota and I exchanged a look that spoke of nervousness, maybe a little excitement, and a good dose of what the fuck.
“The kitchen appliances were replaced three years ago. There’s a stackable washer-dryer in the bathroom, which is large especially considering when this was built. The bedrooms have windows looking out on the square.”
“Too bad there’s no balcony,” Dakota said.
“The patio out back looks over the woods. Mrs. K has it crowded with old furniture but that will be removed. Try to—”
“Squint?” I asked.
“You’re catching on,” he said. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes. Take your time.”
He pulled the door closed after him. Dakota and I looked at each other with our eyes wide, then burst out laughing.
“This is awful,” she said. “It’s no wonder Mrs. Karasinski fell. How could she not trip over all the crap?”
“I’m trying hard to see past it, but I’m struggling.”
Dakota gazed around at the living room. “Okay. It’s not huge, but we could fit a couch and a chair or two. A coffee table.”
“Maybe some shelves over on that wall,” I suggested.
“Let’s look at the bedrooms.”
They were on the front of the apartment, and each one had a window seat, currently piled high with clutter, but I was starting to imagine the potential.
“Oh,” Dakota breathed out when she went into the bathroom. “Look at this.”
I poked my head in the door and saw an old-fashioned claw-foot tub. There were towels and blankets filling it, but I could imagine bubbles and a glass of wine. “Nice.”
The kitchen was small but functional with a large window to the back.
“Let’s go to the deck,” I said. “It feels like there’s not enough oxygen in here.”
Dakota laughed. “You’re not one of those tidy freaks, are you?”
“I never thought so, but compared to this?”
“Everyone is,” she said before I could.