“I don’t think so.” Andrew folded his arms, then stroked his chin with one hand. “We might need to call in a locksmith.”
“Are there locksmiths in town who deal with antique safes?” Tabs asked.
“Well, I guess we’ll make some phone calls and find out,” Andrew replied.
Marissa came in the room just then, paused, and looked around. “Wow. Okay, so this answers the question of just how many people can fit in this room at one time. What’s going on?”
“We just found the safe.” Andrew gave her a quick kiss. “You’re here just in time.”
“The safe? Oh, that’s so cool.” Marissa walked over to the wall and touched the safe’s handle. “I can’t wait to see what’s in here.”
She gave it a little tug, and the door swung open.
Griffin chuckled. “Guess you won’t need that locksmith after all, Andrew.”
Marissa looked over her shoulder. “Oh, was this locked? What happened?”
“You just showed up all these big, strong men,” Tabs replied. “They couldn’t get the door open, so they were going to call in the pros.”
“None of us tried to open the door,” Griffin clarified, irritated at the way Tabs was describing things. “We just assumed it was locked because it’s been behind there for so long.”
“But still, you could have tried it,” Tabs said, turning to face him. “Nothing was stopping any of you.”
“Um, I think this conversation isn’t about the safe anymore,” Marissa said, looping her arm through Tabs’. “Why don’t you save this for later—right now, I think Andrew would like to see what’s in there.”
“Sorry,” Griffin muttered.
“Me too,” Tabs said. “Andrew, it’s your turn.”
Everyone stepped back, and Andrew walked up to the safe and pulled the door the rest of the way open. The hinges groaned, but cooperated, and he pulled out a small stack of papers and boxes.
“This is so cool,” he said, placing everything on the desk. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Definitely with the boxes,” Marissa said. “You’ll probably need more time to go over the papers.”
“True.” Andrew looked up at everyone, took a deep breath, and said, “Here goes.”
He picked up the smaller of the two boxes and lifted the lid. “Oh, wow,” he said, reaching inside and pulling out two hair combs. “These have to be the combs listed in the ledger—the ones that belonged to Elizabeth.”
Griffin wasn’t really into antiques, but he found himself interested. The combs might have been gold—it was hard to tell. He imagined that with some polishing, they’d be lovely again.
“How do you comb your hair with one of those?” Danny asked. “They don’t have a handle.”
Tabs good-naturedly slugged his shoulder. “They aren’t for combing your hair—you wear them in your hair. Like decorations. But they help hold your hair in place.”
“Oh.” Danny looked a little sheepish. “How was I supposed to know that?”
“Shhh,” Tabs said. “Time for the next box.”
Griffin watched the friendly interplay between Tabs and Danny and felt jealous. The two of them had met and worked well together on the project where Griffin had fallen for Tabs, and he remembered that they liked to joke around with each other, but it hadn’t bothered him so much back then. Now, it was like a rock in his shoe.
Andrew picked up the second box and opened it. He stared inside for a long minute, not moving.
“What is it?” Marissa asked. “You’re keeping us all in suspense.”
“Maybe he forgot the ‘show’ part of show and tell,” Tabs added. “Except he’s not telling anything either.”
Andrew blinked. “I’m sorry. I’m just . . .” He paused and swallowed hard. “Have you ever had a feeling that you were somehow connected to the past, that our families are strung together on a long chain, like links? I just . . . I don’t know how to describe it.” He reached into the box and pulled out a beautiful gold filigree necklace. “This actually belonged to my fourth great-grandmother. She was real, she lived here, she raised her children here. These aren’t just names on a pedigree chart—they were real, breathing people with hopes and dreams and imaginations, and I’m just a little overwhelmed by all of it.”
Marissa rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s beautiful,” she said, “and I love what you’re describing. It’s beautiful to realize that you have those family connections even when your own family of origin is no longer with you.”
Griffin swallowed and looked away. He didn’t have any of that. He’d always be grateful to the McClains for taking him in, and to Lillian McClain for becoming his mother, but he didn’t have any blood ties with anyone.
Marissa reached out and touched the necklace, and then her head popped up from Andrew’s shoulder. “Oh, the best idea just came to me,” she said. “I’ve got goose bumps—I really do.”
“What is it?” Tabs wanted to know.
“Okay, you remember the movie Somewhere in Time?”
“Oh, my gosh, yes!” Tabs grabbed Marissa’s hands, and they jumped up and down together a few times while the men just watched, confused.
“Sorry, sorry,” Marissa said when they were done. “Okay, listen. In Somewhere in Time, Christopher Reeve goes and visits this old hotel. There’s a hallway in the lobby where relics of the hotel’s past are on display. Andrew, we’ve got to build one of those here. You’ve got to put this necklace and these hair combs and the picture of Adam and Elizabeth out where people can see them—in glass cases, of course, so they’re safe, but oh, you’ve got to.” She grabbed his arm. “Please?”
Andrew laughed. “I love that idea. But I always thought it was Reeves.”
“No. Reeve. No ‘S’ on the end.” Marissa turned to Griffin. “Is there a way to do it? Can we add one on?”
“Probably, but I think it would be pretty expensive for what you’d get out of it,” Griffin said. “I’d take some of the existing space and use that instead.”
“What if that’s how you decorate the parlor?” Tabs suggested. “Rather than flat display cases, put them in shadow boxes and hang them on the walls.”
“That’s a great idea, Tabs,” Griffin said, impressed. “And still have the furniture and whatnot in there, but it now serves two purposes.”
“That’s what I do,” she replied airily. “Form, function, and practicality. Two rooms for the price of one, and I find carpet while I’m at it.”
Yeesh. Griffin didn’t know how to respond—not in a professional way, and not in front of all these people. Instead, he turned back to the desk, where Andrew was looking at the papers. “I’m actually here to measure the kitchen windows,” he said. “If anyone needs me, that’s where I’ll be.”
“Sounds good,” Andrew said, lifting a hand without really looking up.
Griffin paused before exiting the room, then reached out, grasped Tabs’ wrist, and tugged her out into the hallway after him.
“What are you doing?” she hissed. “You can’t just grab me and pull me around.”
He ignored her. “Listen. I know I’m a jerk, okay? I admit it. I’ll even have an ‘I admit I’m a jerk’ T-shirt made up and I’ll wear it every day for the rest of this job, if that’s what it takes. But we’ve got to work past this. I can’t look at you and see that . . . that hatred glimmering in your eyes anymore. I’ll try to accept that we’ll never be more than associates, even though I hate that idea, and we’ll find ways to work together, all right? Can we talk about this?”
She pressed her lips together and looked away. “I guess,” she said at last.
“And I also admit that I’m stupid, but there’s something I just don’t understand.”
She looked back up at him. “What’s that, oh stupid one?”
He braced one arm on the wall. “I know I shouldn’t have asked you out because I’d been dating Marissa—that’s not cool. But why are you still so angry after all this t
ime? Wasn’t it more like a social blunder sort of thing, something you could just chalk up to me being an idiot and eventually forgive me for?”
Tabs looked away again, some of her red curls tumbling around her cheeks to hide her eyes from his view. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and tucked those curls back behind her ear. Her hair felt like everything he’d ever dreamed it would—soft, silky, a little bouncy. She didn’t pull away from his touch, which he considered a good sign. He didn’t want to push the envelope, though, so as much as he would have liked to keep playing with her hair, he let his arm drop back to the side.
“Why do you hate me, Tabs?” he whispered.
“I don’t hate you,” she finally replied. “I don’t hate you at all. I just . . . I just . . . I need to go.”
She turned and ran down the hallway toward the kitchen. Griffin, stunned, didn’t follow, but waited until he heard the backdoor slam before walking in the same direction so he could take the window measurements. What had just happened? His knees felt a little shaky, and he leaned on the kitchen counter for a minute to collect himself. He could still feel her soft breath on his wrist from when he reached out to touch her hair. And she didn’t hate him . . . so what was going on?
“Come back, Tabs,” he said to the room at large. “Come back so we can work this out.”
But he knew she couldn’t hear him, and he knew she wouldn’t be coming back—not for a little while, at least. And when she did, he didn’t know how he should respond. Should he ask her about it? Should he pretend it never happened?
He didn’t know what the right answer was. He just knew one thing for certain—he didn’t want to pretend it had never happened. That closeness they’d just shared, that glimpse of vulnerability—it was magic. Absolutely magic. And he’d never forget it as long as he lived.
Chapter Six
Tabs’ eyes grew wider and wider as Andrew showed her and Marissa through his house. It had been decorated with impeccable taste—she honestly couldn’t think of any way to improve it.
“Looking at the purchase price, depreciation, and whatnot, I think seven hundred and fifty thousand is a fair price,” Marissa said, checking her notes. “The pool, pool house, second kitchen, outdoor barbecue area, and the marble definitely help keep that price point up there. But keep in mind—I’m not a Realtor, so nothing I say is official.”
Andrew nodded. “Understood. I appreciate your opinion, though, no matter how unofficial it might be.” He grinned, then turned to Tabs. “What do you think of my modest pad?”
Tabs chuckled. “I don’t think ‘modest’ is the word for it. It’s certainly spacious. And beautiful. And spacious.”
He laughed. “You’re wondering why I needed such a huge house for just my mother and myself.”
“The thought had crossed my mind once or twice or so.”
Andrew nodded and leaned on the railing that curved around to the top floor. “My father . . . he wasn’t a kind man, and his relationship with my mother was stormy at best. When they divorced, he was supposed to give her alimony and child support, but she rarely got those payments on time, and she was too traumatized by their marriage to fight for what was rightfully hers. When I became successful, I decided that I was going to step in and support her like my father should have, but never did, and I bought her this house because it was always her dream.”
Tabs felt a little awkward, hearing this very personal side of Andrew’s story, but at the same time, she felt honored, like he was trusting her with something of value to him. If this was the man who was going to marry Marissa, she’d want to know him well and be good friends with him, too, not just his wife. “What a good son,” she said a little teasingly, then followed with, “She must have loved living here, knowing it came from your heart.”
“Thank you. Yes, we were happy here for the short amount of time we had together. It’s hard to let it go, but the upkeep isn’t worth it—it’s simply too much house.”
He turned and led the way into the dining room, and they all took seats at the table. Florence bustled in with a tray of cookies and small sandwiches. “Here you are—I thought you’d be hungry after everything you’ve done today.”
“I’m pretty much always hungry,” Tabs said, helping herself to a ham and cheese on a soft roll. “Thank you, Florence.”
“I need to let you know about a small situation, Mr. Andrew,” Florence went on after smiling at Tabs. “Jimmy’s been in tears all day. He knows that you’re selling the house, and he doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him.”
Andrew sat back and rubbed his eyes. “I meant to talk to him days ago, but I got caught up in the paperwork for the building permits. What time does his mother pick him up?”
“She’ll be here in about half an hour.”
“When she comes, would you ask them both to come in here? Shoot. I feel like an idiot.”
Florence nodded and left the room. Tabs smirked—she didn’t know if Florence was agreeing that Andrew was an idiot, or agreeing that she’d send Jimmy in.
Andrew shook his head one more time, then turned to Marissa. “Okay, what are your thoughts? Are we good to list it now, or should I have it repainted? New carpets?”
Marissa shook her head. “I think it’s perfect as is. I’ve never seen a house so nicely put together. Who did you hire?”
“My mother did all the decorating. She spent weeks choosing just the right drapes and then just the right carpets—you would have loved my mother, Tabs.”
Tabs grinned. “I think you’re right.”
“Well, I would have hired her in a minute,” Marissa said. “I’d check with your Realtor just to be sure, but I’d say it’s ready to show this minute. Now, you said you want to sell some pieces at auction?”
Andrew nodded. “Some of the antiques would go for far more at auction than they would an estate sale or anything like that. Beverly, Tony’s paralegal, has a friend in the antique business, and he came out to appraise the pieces I don’t want to keep. His auction house will handle the sales, and if all goes well, I’ll make a decent profit. Although at this point, because of the memories and so forth, profit isn’t the end game—I just want them to find homes where they’ll be loved.”
“But I’m sure you don’t want to lose money on them,” Tabs clarified, and he grinned.
“You’re pretty shrewd. No, I definitely don’t want to lose money. That’s not how you build foundations for future growth.” He took a sandwich and chewed it thoughtfully. “Do the two of you think I’m nuts?”
“Yes!” Tabs said enthusiastically, then paused. “Um, what about? I need a topic here.”
He smiled. “About this whole thing—building a new wing on the hotel, starting the hotel up again in the first place.”
“Definitely not,” Marissa said, reaching over and taking his free hand. “I’ve seen how this project lights you up inside. You’re leveraging your money into an investment that you really care about, and I think it’s going to pay off hugely. There aren’t any other large hotels in that area of town, which is a surprise because it’s in a great location for that sort of thing. You’ll be hosting conventions and graduations and weddings—and you’ll love it rather than it just being another piece of property.”
Andrew leaned over and kissed her. Tabs reached for another sandwich—single girl, uncomfortable with public displays of affection when she wasn’t one of the persons displaying.
When Andrew broke the kiss, he said, “You really get it, Marissa. Thank you for that. It’s like . . . it’s like working on this hotel has given me back my family. I never really wanted to be a Brody because of what my father represented to me, but the more I learn about Adam and Elizabeth, the more I realize that I do have strong progenitors and I do have a legacy of integrity behind me. My father’s choices were his alone, and I can look back a few generations to find the kind of leadership and courage I would like to make part of myself.”
Marissa turned to Tabs. “Do yo
u see? Do you see why I like this guy?”
Tabs’ mouth was full, so she couldn’t answer, but she nodded vigorously.
Just then, Florence stuck her head in the room. “Jimmy’s mother came a little early. Should I send them in now?”
“Yes, please. And do we have any Oreos?”
Florence gave him a look. “Don’t I always have Oreos?”
Tabs looked down at the platter. There were already two dozen chocolate chip cookies on the tray—it was a big tray. Why did Andrew want Oreos?
A moment later, an older woman entered the room, followed by a young man with Down syndrome. He shuffled his feet as he walked, and his eyes looked red. Tabs’ heart broke as she looked at him. Was this the Jimmy who had been crying all day? Now she wanted to cry too—he looked so sad.
Florence came in right behind them and set a tray of Oreos on the table. She then turned to leave, but Andrew asked her to stay.
“Mrs. Sturgis, thank you for coming in for a minute,” Andrew said once everyone was seated. “I needed to speak with Jimmy, and I’d love your input too.”
She nodded, looking nervous. “He tells me it’s been a hard day.”
“Well, I’m sorry to say that I made it harder,” Andrew said. He turned to Jimmy. “Jimmy, I owe you an apology. Do you know what an apology is?”
Jimmy nodded. “It’s when you say you’re sorry.”
“That’s right, and I need to tell you that I’m sorry. I was supposed to talk to you a long time ago, but then I got busy and I forgot because I wasn’t paying attention.”
Jimmy nodded. “That’s okay, Mr. Andrew. I forget stuff too.”
“It’s not okay for me to forget to talk to my friends,” Andrew replied. “Florence tells me that you’ve been sad today.”
Jimmy nodded, and his eyes filled with tears again. “I’m never gonna find another job like this one, Mr. Andrew.”
Andrew leaned forward. “Look at me, Jimmy.”
Jimmy looked up, and Andrew went on. “I’m going to need someone to take care of the flowerbeds at my new hotel, and I want to give you that job. It’s a pretty big one, so I’ll be paying you more money, but it’s closer to your house, so your mom won’t have to drive so far. What do you think, Jimmy? Do you think you could do that?”
Heartstrings (Brody Hotel Book 2) Page 5
