by Linda Hill
I frowned. “I hate to dampen your spirits, but there’s just one small problem.”
“Don’t say you don’t have time.”
I laughed. “No, it’s not that.”
“Or money.” There was definitely sarcasm in her voice.
“Talent.” I shrugged. “I have none. I have no concept of what looks good together. This place would be a complete disaster if I let myself decorate.”
Annie threw me a look that said she didn’t believe a word of what I was saying. She turned back to the living room and glanced about. I followed her gaze and took in the coffee table on the simple throw rug in the center of the room. An overstuffed sofa lined one wall. A mission rocker stood beneath a tall lamp. A variety of potted plants stood against the window that faced the front of the house.
Her eyes rested on mine, and I could tell that she was struggling with what to say. Then a broad smile broke onto her lips.
“You have a gorgeous home, Kate. But you’re right. You’re either a horrible decorator or you just moved in last week.” If anyone else had said those words to me, I probably would have been angry. But hearing the teasing tone in Annie’s voice made me laugh.
“See? I told you and you didn’t believe me, did you?”
“No,” she laughed again. “I thought you were pulling my leg. I thought for sure that you must have this gorgeous home that would be decorated right out of a magazine.”
“Like my parents’ house?” I raised a brow.
Her smile faltered a bit, and I could almost read her mind. It was something that I’d seen on her face before, and I thought it had something to do with my parents’ wealth.
“Daddy’s spoiled little girl?” The words came out before I could stop them.
She dropped her eyes for a brief moment, and I knew I was right. Her smile was contrite.
“I apologize. I guess I made some assumptions when I found out who your father was.”
I couldn’t describe the emotion I was feeling. I know I was angry, but not at Annie. I was used to being treated as different when people discovered who my parents were, but my parentage had opened many doors for me. Doors that I took for granted. There had been times, however, when I saw the resentment on someone’s face. Or when a new friend began treating me as someone with money instead of someone with whom she shared a bond. I didn’t want Annie to be one of those people.
Apparently I didn’t respond quickly enough, because Annie was frowning.
“Really, Kate. I’m sorry.”
I waved her off. “I’m used to it.” I felt my back stiffen and I felt the need to explain to her. “It’s true that I’ve never lacked for money,” I began. “I had a wonderful childhood and never had to worry about a thing. I know that I’ve been very fortunate. But I don’t apologize for that. I’ve worked very hard all of my adult life.” My mouth clamped shut, and I felt close to tears. What in hell is wrong with me? “My grandfather left me a fifty-thousand-dollar trust fund. I used that as a down payment on the house. My parents paid for my education, but I haven’t taken a dime from them since.” My chin lifted defiantly. Why did I feel such a need to defend myself?
I couldn’t read her thoughts. Her face softened as she stared at me, then hardened. Then a slow smile spread across her features.
“I underestimated you, Kate. I’m sorry.” She took one step toward me, raising a hand and then dropping it. “I won’t do it again.”
Her eyes were earnest, and my defenses fell. “Apology accepted,” I grinned.
“Actually, I knew from the first time that you outbid me that you must be a very assertive and independent woman. I guess discovering that you’re Jonathan Brennan’s daughter threw me off a little.”
My mood lightened. “Did I really outbid you the first time?”
“Absolutely.” She nodded toward the corner of the room. “You stole that mission rocker right out from under me.”
“Ha!” I mocked her. “I picked that chair up for a song. You didn’t bid nearly enough.”
Now she shook her head. “Ah, but you had the advantage, my dear. I have to be able to turn things around and make a profit. I don’t stand a chance when you keep driving up the price.” She was lifting one hand, tucking an imaginary strand of hair behind one ear.
My head tipped to one side as I thought about her words. “Wow. I never thought of it that way. It must make it difficult sometimes.”
“I take my chances,” she replied. “Is that dinner I smell?”
I smiled nervously and nodded. “It should be ready by now.”
“Then I think it’s about time you invited me to sit down to dinner. I’m looking forward to trying your specialty.”
I motioned for her to follow me into the kitchen. “You do have a table and chairs, don’t you?” She moved quickly back to her mocking tone.
“No,” I said seriously. “I thought we’d just curl up on the couch with paper plates.” I watched with glee as she tried to cover the horror on her face.
“I’m just kidding,” I laughed. “Follow me.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The evening went much better than I could have hoped for. Annie raved about my lasagna, and I did my best to accept her compliments graciously. Conversation came easily, and we managed to get through the evening without competing on any topic. Annie was a wonderful conversationalist, animated, intelligent, and thoughtful as our dialogue moved from antiques to politics to current events. About the only topic that we didn’t discuss was our personal lives. I admit that I was comfortable with that, although slightly surprised. Two people didn’t usually spend an entire evening together without eventually speaking or inquiring about something personal.
She agreed to take my old office furniture to her shop on consignment, and I was most grateful. After a quick phone call to Beth, we arranged to load Beth’s truck and take it all over to Annie’s next Saturday. I was suddenly looking eagerly forward to the weekend.
I was tapping my pencil. Not a good sign.
The divorce papers that I’d filed the day before were just too simple. I’d never had to do so little in the way of documentation in preparation for filing for a client.
Every time I read the document, I felt sure that something was missing. But for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it might be.
It troubled me that a forty-eight-year-old man, whose father was extremely wealthy and well connected, had next to nothing in assets. A few thousand dollars in a bank account. Not a joint account with his wife, as was the custom. He had no investments, which again I felt was odd. His only real asset was the house, which he owned jointly with one Hildegard A. Gold. I hated to admit it, but I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of a woman has a name like Hildegard these days. I could only hope that she used a nickname of some kind.
Little money. No investments. I made a mental note to ask his father about his son’s occupation. Perhaps that would explain a few things.
The intercom on my desk phone buzzed, and Millie’s voice followed.
“Miss Brennan?”
“Yes, Millie.” Everyone else in the firm called her Millicent. She had seemed so tickled when I called her Millie that I continued, in spite of the occasional raised brow I received from one of the partners.
“A Miss Barnes on line three for you.”
“Thanks, Millie.” It took me several moments to remember exactly who Miss Barnes was. I picked up the receiver and pushed the button alongside line three.
“Kate Brennan.” I’d been taught long ago to always answer the phone by stating my name, regardless of whether or not I knew who was on the other end of the line.
“I thought you’d given up on family law.” Melanie Barnes’s voice bristled.
“Excuse me?” I had no idea what Melanie wanted, but I didn’t like the tone in her voice.
“I thought you were a corporate attorney now. What are you doing representing someone in a divorce case?”
“Well hello to you too,
Mel. Let’s not bother with catching up or anything.” My tone was sarcastic.
There was a moment’s hesitation on her part. “I’m sorry, Kate. How are you?”
I had to laugh. Melanie and I had shared office space and had worked many times together in the past. She was known for being just a bit excitable, and I knew what kind of an effort she was making to calm down.
“I’m well, Melanie. And you?” I was smiling now. I missed Melanie. With all her flaws, Melanie was so much more human than the lawyers that surrounded me now.
“I was just fine until I found out that you’re representing a gold-digging bastard in a divorce case. I can’t believe you’re representing a man, and a son of a bitch to boot.”
In spite of the fact that I agreed wholeheartedly with Melanie’s assessment of my client’s character, I didn’t like the tone she was taking with me.
“First of all, Melanie, yes, I am in corporate law now.” I spoke each word succinctly. “And second, there’s this little thing called attorney-client privilege that doesn’t allow me to discuss who I may or may not be representing with anyone outside of a courtroom.” I took a deep breath. “You remember attorney-client privilege, don’t you?”
“Very funny, Kate.” Her voice was tight. “Who you’re representing probably wouldn’t be any of my business except for the fact that a copy of the divorce petition that you filed on behalf of your client was just delivered to my office.”
My heart sank. “Don’t tell me.”
“Mrs. Gold is my client.”
Dammit. I was silent as I mulled this over. It was bad enough that I was being forced to represent anyone in a divorce case. Worse still that my client was a man. It was against everything I’d ever tried to accomplish in my own practice that I had to represent a man in a divorce case who was using his wife’s lesbianism against her. And now, to add insult to injury, I would be going up against an old and dear colleague. A colleague who had fought as hard as I had to preserve the rights of our lesbian clients.
“Are you there?” Melanie’s voice was much quieter now.
“I’m here,” I sighed.
“Maybe we can try to make the best of a bad situation.”
“How’s that?” My eyes closed as I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Maybe we can come up with a settlement that’s fair to everyone without shedding any blood.”
My laugh was more like a guffaw. “Don’t bet on it,” I muttered.
“Is he a real prick?”
In spite of myself, I smiled. “You know I can’t comment, Mel.”
“Off the record.” Her voice was almost a whisper.
I looked around my office, as if someone were hiding somewhere and listening. An uneasy feeling came over me. I wouldn’t put it past Donald Gold to have my office bugged or my phone tapped.
“My opinion of my client is irrelevant, Melanie.” I put on my best business voice. “Why don’t we schedule a time to get together and see if we can work out some sort of agreement.”
Melanie was quiet. I could imagine her mentally weighing my words. “I’m sorry, Kate. That was very unprofessional of me. When are you free?”
I flipped through my datebook and we compared schedules. Settling on the following Monday, we said a polite good-bye and ended our conversation.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The ride to Treasured Past was nearly unbearable. Beth and I had debated for nearly an hour about whether or not we should take separate vehicles. As a result we were running late, and once we were on our way I wished that I’d brought my own car.
“Don’t worry about it,” Beth was saying. “If I have to leave before you’re ready to go, then I’m sure you can get a ride home from Annie.”
I groaned. “Why are you so intent on pushing us together? She could be married for all I know.”
“No ring,” she stated happily.
“She might have plans.”
“She might.” The singsong tone in Beth’s voice was driving me crazy. “If she does, then you’ll just have to tag along with me. Billy’s game won’t last more than an hour.”
I bit my tongue. Spending an hour watching Beth’s son play left field in a Little League game wasn’t the worst way I could spend my afternoon. In spite of the efforts of Beth’s ex-husband to keep his son away from his mother, it was Billy who had made life almost intolerable for his father by insisting that Beth continue to have a strong role in his young life. Very mature for his nine years, Billy had stood his ground firmly when it came to including his mother in every part of his life. Beth’s ex-husband may have won legal custody, but it was Beth who clearly owned Billy’s heart.
Even now, the guilt that came over me every time Billy’s name was mentioned was palpable. I didn’t think I would ever forgive myself for losing Beth’s custody battle. My mood sobered.
Beth pretended not to notice. Instead she prattled on about Annie and how good it would be to see her again.
“You know, you keep teasing me about Annie.” I turned in my seat to face her squarely. “I think maybe it’s you who’s attracted to her.”
Beth’s ire wouldn’t be raised. “Not my type.”
“Oh, why not?” I folded my arms across my chest and pretended not to believe a word.
“You know I like ‘em butch.” She took her eyes off the road just long enough to slide me a mischievous glance and pat my leg. “Kinda like you.”
“I am not butch.” Beth knew all my buttons, and now she was roaring.
“You are. You may not look butch, but everything else about you is.”
“I don’t believe in that butch-femme thing,” I insisted.
“I know. I don’t either. But I sure do like to get you going.”
I opened my mouth to give her a not-so-subtle piece of my mind, but she cut me off.
“Is this the place?”
I glanced out the window and felt my stomach flutter. “Yep. We’re here.” I was nervous again.
“Did she tell you where to park?” Every metered parking space was taken.
“She said to pull around back. There’s a loading dock or something back there.”
Beth navigated her truck down a back alley, and we were surprised to see an oversize doorway at the back of the building. A rough wooden sign hanging above the door proclaimed TREASURED PAST.
“Easy enough,” Beth declared. Then she reversed the truck and backed it up until we were just a few feet from the door.
The number of shoppers that were milling about the store amazed me. Annie greeted us warmly.
“You made it,” she smiled.
“Sorry we’re late,” Beth told her. We were supposed to be there before the store opened at noon.
“No problem. I can’t really break away right now, but if you two want to unload the furniture in the back, we can move it inside as soon as there’s a break.” She was brushing a stray strand of hair from her brow.
“Sounds fair to me.” Beth was all smiles as we left the store together and unloaded the truck.
It took no time at all, and my dilemma began. It was unthinkable to just leave the furniture outside and make Annie bring everything in herself. But the number of people in the store made it clear to me that it would be a long wait before Annie could take a break.
Beth wasted no time in solving the problem. She waited until Annie had wrapped up a customer’s purchase and thanked them before approaching the counter.
“Annie, I hate to do this. But I really need to get to my son’s baseball game.”
“I didn’t know you have a son. What’s his name?” Annie’s smile was broad.
“Billy,” Beth smiled. “Unfortunately, I don’t get to spend a lot of time with him, so it’s important that I be there.”
Annie glanced my way. “Don’t worry about it. You two go ahead and take off.”
“Oh no,” Beth waved her off. “We wouldn’t dream of asking you to drag all that stuff in by yourself. Kate can hang around until the end of
the day if you wouldn’t mind giving her a ride home.”
I could feel my face reddening, and I bit my lip. I was sure that Annie would feel like she had been saddled with me. But I was wrong.
“What a wonderful idea.” Now she turned her attention to me. “Can I put you to work while you’re here?” She was grinning.
“You can certainly try,” I told her. “But I’m not promising that I’ll be much help.”
She let her eyes wander boldly up and then down my body before nodding firmly. “You look trainable enough.”
I pretended that I wasn’t embarrassed, but I didn’t miss Beth’s smirk. Shrugging my shoulders, I refused to meet Beth’s eyes. “Then I’m all yours,” I told her, knowing that Beth’s smirk was turning into a huge grin.
Once Beth had left, I asked Annie whether or not she had anyone to help her in the store. “It seems awfully busy in here for just one person.”
“I’ve had help on and off in the past. But I can’t afford to pay much, and it’s hard to fmd someone that you can trust.” Her tone was matter-of-fact. She paused to answer a question from a young woman interested in Fiesta ware.
“I’m afraid I’m not going to be much use to you,” I told her. “I don’t know anything about this stuff.”
“That’s okay,” she said easily. “It would be a big help if you just stay back here behind the counter and greet people for me.”
“I think I can manage that. But can’t you give me something else just a little more challenging to do?” I couldn’t stand feeling useless.
“Sure. Can you work a cash register?”
I didn’t want to admit that I never had, so I nodded. It looked simple enough to me.
“Good. Let me show you how we write things up.” Annie was all business now, and I focused hard while she showed me how she wrote sales receipts. Every item in the store had a white tag that included an item number, a description of the item, and a price. All the information was written on a two-copy sales receipt. The white copy went to the customer, and the yellow copy was placed in what amounted to a little shoebox under the counter. Each price was entered into the cash register, which calculated the sales tax and the total sale.
