Nicole forced a smile. “That must’ve been nice to have customers. Hopefully you made some good sales.”
“Unfortunately, I probably lost a good sale. I was so busy that I couldn’t give a potential client my full attention.” She narrowed her eyes. “You should’ve been here, Nicole.”
“I was occupied with a client of my own.” Nicole took a slow breath. “I’m sorry, Amyra.”
Amyra seemed taken aback by the apology. “I didn’t expect you to be gone for so long.”
“I didn’t expect to be gone that long either.” Nicole looked directly into her eyes. “I really am sorry.”
Amyra looked even more dumbfounded. “Well, it’s just that I’m not used to sharing the gallery with you. Our roles aren’t clearly defined.”
Nicole felt a little pang of empathy. “I understand. I can see you’re frustrated, but I honestly don’t know what to do about it.” She reached for the receipt book and started to fill it out.
“You made another sale?” Amyra leaned over to look.
“Actually, three more.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Not at all.” She continued to carefully write out the information.
“Where are the paintings you took out there?”
“In Camille’s house.”
“You left them?”
“I have her debit card information right here.” She held up her notepad.
“Do you never learn, Nicole?” Amyra began to rant about how reckless Nicole was and how Vivian would throw a fit if she knew. She stabbed her finger at the notebook. “Even if the card is good, you don’t know if it can cover the amount of the purchase.”
“I’m not worried,” she said, although she was a bit nervous. Amyra made a good point. It would be awkward to have to go back to Camille’s.
“For all you know, she’s sold all the paintings by now.”
Nicole took a deep breath as she continued to write. “I’ve been to her house,” she said. “Camille is not a thief.”
To Nicole’s relief, Amyra marched off to the back room.
After Nicole finished writing out the receipt, she realized she wasn’t sure how to run the debit numbers without an actual card to swipe into the computer system. She considered asking Amyra for help but knew that would be asking for more trouble and another lecture. She decided to call the bank. She’d gotten on friendly terms with a teller named Stephanie there. Perhaps she would help. It only took a few minutes for Stephanie to walk Nicole through the process. Satisfied that she’d done what was needed to assure the full payment for the three paintings, Nicole closed the receipt drawer with a relieved sigh.
“Excuse me!” Amyra stepped from behind, giving Nicole a start. “Before you leave for the evening, I’d like to take my break—if you don’t mind.”
Although Nicole’s shift was nearly over, she didn’t want to mention it. “Sure,” she agreed. “That’s fine.”
“Thanks a lot!” Amyra reached beneath the cabinet to snatch her purse. Muttering some off-color words, she stormed out through the gallery. Fortunately, there were no visitors around to hear her.
As angry as Amyra seemed, Nicole wondered if she’d even come back. If she didn’t, Nicole wasn’t sure she’d care. If she really was the manager, as Vivian and now the new business card proclaimed, she should have the authority to give Amyra her notice and hire someone else to replace her. But would Nicole have the nerve to do that? Did she really have enough experience to run this gallery without Amyra’s help? Talk about being between a rock and a hard place. Life with Amyra was both!
It was closing in on six, and Nicole was about to give up on Amyra when she came strolling through the gallery, acting as if she was in fine spirits and nothing whatsoever had transpired earlier. Nicole felt both relieved and frustrated. She was beginning to think Amyra was a perfect candidate for a passive-aggressive diagnosis.
“Sorry to take so long,” Amyra said lightly. “I ran into an old friend. I thought since you’d spent most of the day out of the gallery, you might not mind.” She smiled stiffly. “You didn’t, did you?”
“No, that’s fine.” Nicole stepped away so Amyra could put her purse back under the counter.
“Oops.” Amyra reached for something that had fallen on the floor. “What is this?” She stood up with the open box of Nicole’s new business cards and several that had tumbled out in her hand.
“Those are mine.” Nicole reached for the cards, but Amyra snatched her hand away.
“Hold on a minute.” She looked at one of the cards, then back up at Nicole with a hostile glare. “Where did these come from?”
“The printer.” Nicole calmly took the cards from Amyra.
Amyra still had one card in her hand and shook it under Nicole’s nose. “How dare you get cards printed with this!”
“I didn’t.” Nicole shoved the loose cards into her pocket. “Vivian did that.”
“Well—I—I don’t believe it,” she sputtered. “Vivian wouldn’t do that to me.”
“I’m sorry, but she said—”
“This has to be a mistake!” Amyra declared. “You are not the manager. I am the manager.”
The bell on the front door jingled. “I need to go.” Nicole grabbed her own purse from beneath the counter. “Have a good evening.”
“We are not done with this,” Amyra hissed at her.
Nicole didn’t respond, just hurried into the back room and out the back door, eager to get as far away from Amyra as possible. As she drove home, she forgot to enjoy the pretty historical squares, ignored the golden clouds in the sky, and didn’t even pause to smell the gardenia as she went into the house.
“Hi, Nicole!”
Nicole jumped, seeing Bernice in the kitchen. She had nearly forgotten about her unexpected housemate. “Oh, hi,” she said in a weary tone, setting her purse on a barstool.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Nicole smiled weakly. “Just a hard day.”
“Really?” Bernice frowned. “I always thought working at the gallery must be an easy job. You just stand around and talk to people.”
Nicole’s smile grew more genuine. “You’d think so. And in some ways it is easy. In fact, there were some nice parts today.” She opened the fridge. “And some not so nice.”
“Was Amyra there?”
Nicole turned to Bernice with a surprised expression.
“She’s awful. Dad and Grandpa call her Vampira. But I would rather be friends with a vampire than with her.”
Nicole laughed. “I think I might have to agree with you on that.” She pulled out a yogurt container and opened it up. “How was your day today?” She got a spoon and sat down at the island.
“Pretty boring.”
“What’d you do?”
“Talked to friends. Watched TV. Swam. Ate.”
“Sounds like a vacation to me.”
“Yeah, I guess. But I think I’d rather go to work at the gallery.”
Nicole paused. “Do you ever help your grandma at the gallery?”
“Yeah, sometimes she took me with her.”
“Maybe on a day when I’m there by myself, you could come with me. I mean, if you wanted to. It would actually be nice to have someone else around.”
“Yeah, I’d like to come,” she said eagerly. “But why can’t I come when you’re not alone there? Are you worried that Amyra will chew me up and spit me out?”
Nicole chuckled. “Yeah, a little.”
“Well, don’t worry. I mean, yeah, she’s rude to me sometimes—only when Grandma isn’t around to hear her. But I can take it. She’s not that different from some of the mean girls at my school.”
Nicole could imagine Amyra as a mean middle school girl. Yet Ryan had said how she used to be so different. She used to be nice. What had happened to make her so horrid? Was it because of her mom’s illness? She told Bernice about that. “I suppose we should cut her some slack if she’s going through hard stuff. In fact, I mig
ht even offer to let her take some time off to go see her mom.” Nicole brightened. “Come to think of it, that’s exactly what I’ll do. I’ll tell her that you’re coming to work with me so she can go see her mom.”
“Good idea.”
As Nicole slowly ate her yogurt, Bernie talked about some of the mean girls in her own life, sharing enough to reveal that she’d been the victim of some rather severe bullying by a girl named Hannah.
“Why do you think Hannah is so mean to you?” Nicole asked as she tossed her yogurt container in the trash.
“Why?” Bernie frowned.
“Yeah.” Nicole reached for a banana. “It sounds like she really has it out for you. Why do you think that is?”
“She hates me.”
“Okay, but why?” Nicole peeled the banana and took a bite.
“She’s hated me for a long time. I think it started when I won the fifth grade spelling bee. Everyone thought Hannah would win.”
“That’s a long time to carry a grudge.”
“Tell me about it.” Bernie sighed loudly. “But thanks to Hannah, I made a best friend. Gina came to my defense one day. We’ve been best friends ever since.”
“Do you want to spend time with Gina this summer?” It might be a relief to have another friend around for Bernie. Take some pressure off Nicole.
“Yeah. I miss her a lot. But she went with her mom to visit her grandma in Vermont. They won’t be back until July.”
“Oh.”
“Gina is the one reason Hannah doesn’t get to me that much. I don’t know what I’d do without her, though.”
“Have you ever tried to make friends with Hannah? To win her over somehow?”
Bernie snorted. “Are you kidding?”
“Maybe.” Nicole tossed her banana peel away. “I’m sure this sounds crazy, but I’d love to win Amyra over.”
“Win her over?” Bernie frowned.
“Yeah. I want to get her to like me.”
Bernie laughed. “Good luck with that lame idea.”
“I know, it does sound impossible. But that’s my goal for this summer.” Nicole considered her words as she chewed the last bite. “Well, unless Amyra decides to quit first. I wouldn’t be too surprised if she did.”
“I hope she does. Grandma would probably be glad about that.”
“Would you be interested in going to work with me tomorrow?” Nicole rinsed her sticky fingers in the sink.
“Yeah, if I can get up in time.” She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t get up until noon today.”
Nicole laughed. “I remember those days. And I’ll understand if you don’t make it in the morning.” She thought that might actually be better. Just in case Amyra was still in her nasty snit.
“I’ll try to go to bed earlier tonight. Working at the gallery sounds better than vegetating around here all day.”
“And you’re not afraid of Amyra?”
“Of course not.” Bernie stood up straighter. “I can hold my own with her.”
Nicole wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t think Amyra would be too nasty to Vivian’s granddaughter. That would not bode well for her when Vivian got back. “Okay then. Be ready to leave here by nine thirty sharp.”
“I’ll try.”
Nicole studied Bernie’s tank top and cutoffs. So far that was about all she’d seen her wear. “Do you have something to wear that’s appropriate for the gallery?”
Bernie’s mouth twisted to one side. “Yeah, I think so. But maybe after work you can take me by my house to pick up some more clothes.”
Nicole was somewhat surprised to see Bernie walk into the kitchen the next morning. With her hair neatly brushed, she had on a yellow and white dress as well as a big smile. She looked ready for the day.
“You look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.” Nicole poured a cup of coffee.
Bernie laughed. “That sounds like something my grandma would say.”
“Well, I’m impressed. You look very nice.” Nicole gave her a nod of approval. “And ready for work.”
“Thanks. Will I get paid?”
“Well, I don’t know. I mean, I am the manager, and I guess I have the right to pay you. But I’m not sure if that’s legal or not, because of your age. Did your grandma pay you when you worked for her?”
“Sort of. But she called it ‘under the table.’ Because I wasn’t an actual employee.”
“Maybe this can be like an internship since you’ll be learning. But if I can figure out how to pay you legally, I will. Okay?”
“Okay.” Bernie shrugged. “Or maybe I can keep track of my hours and just ask Grandma to pay me when she gets back. It would help me to save up my money too.”
“Great plan.”
As she drove them to the gallery, Nicole grew worried about how Amyra would react to having Bernie at work. “Uh, you should know that Amyra wasn’t in a very good mood when we parted ways last night,” she said. “So don’t be surprised if she’s a little chillier than usual today. Fortunately, she won’t be in to work until eleven.”
“What was she so mad about?”
Nicole explained about her title on the business cards. “Amyra would prefer to think she’s the manager. But before your grandma left on the cruise, she informed me that I was to have that position.”
“And she didn’t tell Amyra?”
“I don’t know for sure, but Amyra acted like it was news to her. Bad news.”
“Oh, wow. This should be interesting.”
Nicole smiled at Bernie. “I’m kind of glad you’re coming in with me today. Not that I expect you to keep her in line. But having you there might help buffer things a little.”
“Well, I’m used to being a buffer.”
“How’s that?”
“You know, with my parents. They were always fighting. For a long time I would try to smooth things over. But finally I gave up. Maybe that’s why they split.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you? That they split because you quit buffering them?”
She shrugged. “Yeah . . . kinda.”
“Well, I’d have to disagree with you, Bernie. Your parents split up because they had their own problems. There was nothing you could do to keep them together.”
“How do you know that?” Bernie sounded skeptical.
“I’ve done some studying on this,” Nicole explained. “While teaching high school I’ve had a lot of students with parents who got divorced. I was dumbfounded by how many of them seemed to blame themselves. So I read some books about it and discovered that most kids tend to think like that. Like if they’d done something differently or if they’d been more perfect—or whatever—their parents would still be together. But that’s total rubbish.”
“I don’t know.” Bernie sighed. “Sometimes my mom says stuff that makes me think it’s true.”
Nicole frowned. “What does she say?”
“That they’d still be married if they’d never had me.”
Nicole was stunned into temporary speechlessness. Finally, as she pulled into the parking lot, she found her words. “Bernie, if your mom really thinks that, I’m very sorry for her, but I do not agree. Your parents made their own choices, and if those choices didn’t work out like they expected, that is their fault—and theirs alone. Their problems are not because of you. To blame you for any of it isn’t just ridiculous, it’s wrong. Totally wrong. I’m sorry for that.”
Bernie turned to Nicole with a smile. “That’s why I like you, Nicole. You talk straight to me. You don’t treat me like a child. Thanks.”
Nicole returned her smile. “You don’t seem like a child to me.”
As they went inside, Nicole silently prayed that Amyra wouldn’t be rude to Bernie or treat her like a child. If she did, Nicole would have to stand up to her. Perhaps she’d even have to terminate her. But she really didn’t want to do that.
13
After Nicole disarmed the security system, she showed Bernie how to make coffee. “This can be one of your m
orning chores when you work here,” she said. She made a short list of other tasks that Bernie could take responsibility for, but even as she wrote them down, she wondered if there really was enough work to keep three of them busy today. Being that it was Thursday, perhaps they’d be getting more traffic.
Just before eleven, Nicole remembered her invitation to have lunch with Ryan today. With Bernie here as backup, it wouldn’t matter when Nicole took her lunch. Because she was scheduled for twelve thirty, she decided to text Ryan. By the time Amyra walked into the gallery, it was settled. Let the chips fall where they may.
“What’s she doing here?” Amyra hissed at Nicole when she found her prettying up the stack of scarves in the glass display case. She was arranging them like a color wheel and fanning them around so the patterns were easier to see.
“Bernie is our intern,” Nicole said.
“You never asked me if it was okay.”
“You complained about me being gone yesterday,” Nicole reminded her. “You said you were shorthanded.”
“But she’s a kid. You can’t expect her to wait on customers.”
“She’s Vivian’s granddaughter,” Nicole said quietly. “She’s grown up around art. I’m sure she’ll be fine. Some clients will probably find her quite charming.”
Amyra put her palm down on the glass top that Nicole had just polished to a gleaming shine. “We need to get some things straight, Nicole. Just because your business card mistakenly says ‘manager’ on it does not make it so. Do you understand me?”
Nicole stood up straight, looking her right in the eyes. “Vivian told me that I was to manage the gallery. As much as I appreciate your expertise and experience, I do plan to manage.”
Amyra’s eyes flashed. “What if I walk out right now?”
Nicole shrugged. “That would be your choice.”
“You would flounder without me, Nicole.”
Nicole suspected there was some truth in that, but she was determined not to flinch. “Look, Amyra. I would actually prefer that you stay here, but not if you plan to make us miserable. I’m sorry your feelings are hurt by Vivian asking me to manage the gallery. But that’s just the way it is.”
Under a Summer Sky--A Savannah Romance Page 11
