Chapter 6 #2
Penny practically bolted for the door. I followed close behind, the weight of Richard’s cold stare pressing between my shoulder blades with each step. I lingered with Penny while Adelaide and Richard led the way. As we walked, Adelaide prattled on about election pledges and community governance.
I stumbled to a halt when Richard stopped without warning, barely avoiding a collision with his back. I craned my neck around his shoulder to see what had drawn his attention—a photograph—the one showing him and Thomas Wong posing alongside my grandparents.
“Why show this… particular photograph?” His face darkened as he examined the image. He looked at it as if it personally offended him.
“It captures a pivotal moment in the district’s development.” Adelaide’s curator tone slipped into place like armor. “Benji Sterling-Hart’s award, the preservation guidelines, the—“
“Take it down.”
The command cracked through the air. Adelaide flinched—a minute tell I’d never seen from her before.
“Now, Richard.” Her voice dropped to match his steel. “This is still my museum.”
The siblings locked eyes, decades of unspoken history crackling between them. Richard’s shoulders straightened, mask sliding back into place.
“Of course. Adelaide.” He nodded curtly to his sister. “Good evening.”
We watched him disappear down the marble corridor. Only when his footsteps faded did Adelaide’s rigid posture soften.
“Well.” She removed her glasses, polishing them with trembling fingers. “Perhaps we should call it a night?”
“Adelaide...” I hesitated. “If the auction makes anyone uncomfortable...”
“Nonsense.” Steel returned to her spine. “This district survived the Great Depression. It survived the urban renewal attempts of the ‘80s. It will survive my brother’s... sensitivities.”
Penny opened his mouth—probably to ask about those sensitivities—but I caught his arm. Some secrets were best left undisturbed. At least for tonight.
The first drops of rain fell as Penny and I reached Vintage Vogue. Thunder rumbled overhead, but something else made my skin prickle—a sense of being watched. I turned, scanning the shadowed storefronts, but saw only my reflection in Wilson’s darkened windows.
“Stay at my place tonight?” Penny jingled his keys. “I’ve got that trunk of vintage suits to sort through. Might find something good for the auction. Plus...” His fingers twisted his pendant. “I don’t fancy being alone tonight.”
A flash of lightning illuminated the Historical Society’s copper dome in the distance, brightening everything around us in a brilliant flash that turned night into day.
“Yeah, me neither.” I pulled my coat tighter, unable to shake the chill that had nothing to do with the rain. “Let’s see those suits.”
We ducked inside Vintage Vogue. Thunder cracked overhead as Penny locked the door behind us.
We shuffled through the darkness, navigating around rows of retro garments and display mannequins that seemed significantly more unsettling in the shadows than they ever did in daylight hours.
“Just let me find the hallway switch,” Penny murmured as he groped around blindly. Abruptly, the fluorescent tubes flickered to life in the corridor.
Vintage Vogue’s back room smelled of cedar and mothballs. Apparel spanning multiple eras cascaded from crates and storage chests. Our investigation board remained in its designated place, crimson thread haphazardly connecting various hypotheses.
“Here we go!” Penny announced, triumphantly.
I turned from the investigation display to find Penny balanced precariously on a stepladder, reaching for a steamer trunk tucked away on one of the highest shelves.
“Careful,” I warned, steadying the ladder. “That trunk’s probably older than both of us combined.”
“And twice as valuable.” The brass latches clicked as Penny set it on his workbench. Dust motes danced in the light from the overhead fluorescents. “Some of these suits survived the Depression, two world wars, and disco. Show some respect.”
He lifted the lid with reverence. The scent of mothballs and forgotten elegance wafted up. Inside, carefully preserved in tissue paper, lay a collection of men’s formal wear spanning half a century.
“My great-grandfathers’ wedding suits should be in here somewhere.” I touched the fabric of a navy pinstripe, remembering the photographs of Jack and Elijah Sterling standing proud before their Boston shoe empire. “Unless you sold them.”
Penny clutched his chest in mock horror. “Sell a Sterling family heirloom? I would never.” He pulled out a burgundy brocade vest. “This beauty has been waiting for the right moment to shine again.”
Penny held the vest against my chest. The burgundy brocade caught the light, its pattern as intricate as the day it was woven. “This was your great-grandfather Jack’s, wasn’t it?”
I nodded. “From his wedding to Milo Hart. The night two rival shoe dynasties became one.”
My fingers traced the delicate stitching. “Grandpa said Jack and Elijah Sterling owned half the shoe stores between here and Boston. They had many options for mates back in the big city.”
“But it was a red-headed cobbler in a tiny shoe shop that caught both their eyes.” Penny signed wistfully. “So romantic… and so scandalous. Two alpha business tycoons falling for the same omega? And brothers at that? The gossip must have been delicious.”
“The local paper really hyped it up to a ridiculous degree.” I slipped the vest on. The silk lining, cool against my shirt, carried traces of alpha scent—faded but still detectable even after ninety years. “Think it’ll do for the auction?”
Penny circled me, professional eye critical. “With the right tailoring... yes. Though we’ll need to take it in here.” His fingers pinched the fabric at my waist. “You’re slimmer than your great-grandfather.”
“Speaking of the auction...” I fidgeted with a button. “Are we crazy for doing this?”
“Probably.” Penny dove back into the trunk. “But crazy looks good on us. Besides, when else will we get to play Cinderella for Boston and Millcrest’s elite?”
“That’s what worries me.” I caught his wrist, making him meet my eyes. “These aren’t fairy tale princes, Penny. They’re alphas and betas with money and power. What if—”
“What if one of them turns out to be your Dominic Steele?” He waggled his eyebrows.
My face grew warm. “He’s not my anything.”
“Darling, you can’t lie to me. Not after you let him compromise you atop... where was it again?” Penny fanned himself dramatically. “On yes, your kitchen table.”
“Counter,” I corrected. “And can we focus?”
I gestured at the trunk, steering his attention toward an alternative, less emotionally charged topic. “What are you wearing?”
“This.” Penny pulled out an emerald silk suit with art deco detailing along the lapels. “Found it at an estate sale last month. The woman practically gave it away—didn’t realize it was a 1920s Savile Row original.”
Trust Penny to find treasure in others’ trash. He pressed the fabric to his chest, twirling once. “I added the art deco elements to the lapels—going to do the cuffs too.”
“Perfect with your coloring.” I settled into his worn leather armchair. “But are you sure about this? After what happened with that alpha at the summer fair…”
Penny’s smile flickered. His fingers found his lucky penny. “That was different. This is a controlled environment. Besides...” He draped the emerald suit over his dress form. “Adelaide wouldn’t let anything happen to us.”
“Like she protected you at the summer fair?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
“What do you mean?”
“I saw what happened.” I leaned forward, lowering my voice though we were alone. “The way that alpha cornered you behind the candy apple stand before Minnie intervened. The bruises on your wrist lasted for days.”
I hated to remind him, but it was the harsh truth for omegas like Penny and I.
His scent soured with distress. His fingers traced the tender skin where purple marks had bloomed. “You don’t think he’ll show up at the auction?”
“I hope not, but I think we need to be prepared for any scenario at this point.” I leaned back in the chair with a sigh. “I mean, we’ve had vandalism, corruption, threatening notes, graffiti...”
“And mysterious figures in rain coats.” Penny added. “But that’s why we need this auction to succeed. Show them we won’t be cowed.”
I regret having to share that information with him. It’s left us both unsettled, but I couldn’t keep him in the dark... just in case something were to happen.
The quiet dragged between us. Penny broke the silence with a small cough.
“These suits need pressing.” He pulled a garment bag from beneath his workbench. “And you need to try on these shirts I’ve been saving for a special occasion.”
“Penny...”
“Don’t ‘Penny’ me.” He thrust a crisp white dress shirt into my hands. “If we’re doing this auction, we’re doing it right. Those rich society bastards won’t know what hit them.”
My fingers traced the shirt’s mother-of-pearl buttons. I chuckled. “I think that’s what scares me.”
“The rich society bastards?” Penny paused in his rummaging. “Or one rich bastard in particular?”
My face grew warm. “I saw him yesterday. He came to my shop.”
Penny dropped the garment bag. “And you’re just telling me this now?”
“Nothing happened.” I focused on the shirt’s buttons, avoiding Penny’s knowing look. “He just... stood there in the rain. Said I could be in danger.”
“Danger?” Penny’s scent sharpened with concern. “What kind of danger?”
“People in power… Holloway’s criminal connections. He insisted on accessing my security system.” The memory of Dominic’s rain-soaked form, his vest clinging to his chest... I shook my head. “Then he kissed me.”
“He what?” Penny bounced to his feet. “Details. Now.”
“It was a mistake.” But my fingers touched my lips, remembering the heat of Dominic’s mouth, the possessive growl that rumbled through his chest. “He disappeared for two months after... after what happened. He doesn’t get to just walk back into my life.”
“Not after he vanished like that.” I added, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “No note, no call, nothing. Until yesterday, when he shows up claiming he’s trying to protect me.”
Penny’s expression softened. He took my hands in his. “Oh, honey. No wonder you’re scared about this auction.”
“I just... what if he’s there?” My voice shook. “What if he bids? What if—”
“What if he doesn’t?” Penny squeezed my fingers. “What if some other handsome alpha wins your time? Someone who won’t disappear?”
Thunder cracked overhead, making us both jump. The storm matched my turbulent thoughts—Dominic’s warnings, Richard’s reaction to the photograph, the figure in the raincoat. All these threads connecting in ways I couldn’t quite grasp.
“Here.” I watched as Penny let go of my hands and dug through the trunk.
He lifted a crisp navy button-down from the trunk and held it up.
The deep color would complement my great-grandfather’s brocade vest perfectly.
“Try on the rest of the outfit. If we’re walking into danger, we might as well look fabulous doing it. ”
I managed a weak laugh. “Is that your solution to everything?”
“Has it ever failed me?” He adjusted his lucky penny pendant, then reached for a pair of trousers.
“Besides, your great-grandfathers didn’t let society tell them who to love.
Your grandfathers didn’t let rumors about Chesapeake Joe’s past stop them.
We’re not letting mysterious threats and complications with alphas stop us. ”
He was right. Come what may, we’d get through it.
“Now,” Penny clapped his hands. “About your hair...”
I groaned, but let him fuss. Outside, the storm raged on, but in Vintage Vogue’s tiny back room, I felt almost ready for whatever challenges might lie ahead.
Almost.