by Linda Hill
“Why don’t you just come over here and kiss me?”
I thought a dart had pierced my chest. Stomach fluttering, I tried my best to hide my nervousness.
“Command performance, eh? That’s kind of tough.”
“I’ll bet you do quite well under pressure.” Her grin was something close to wicked as she slowly pushed herself away from the window and covered the few steps between us.
I was aware that my smile had faltered as she drew within inches of my face. Her smile too had vanished, and I wasn’t sure if the beating heart that I heard was hers or my own.
With careful, purposeful slowness, she raised a hand to the side of my face. With two fingers, she tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before letting the palm of her hand come to rest against my cheek.
Instinctively, my lips turned and found the soft center of her palm. Our eyes locked as I continued to let my lips caress her skin. A moment ago I hadn’t thought that I’d be able to kiss her, but now the familiar ache was settling in my belly, and the tension in our locked gaze was mounting.
My left hand covered hers, and I slowly lifted her hand from my mouth as my other hand slipped behind her waist. I didn’t have to urge her any closer, because before I knew it she was in my arms, her soft, moist lips seeking mine. Surely I had died and gone to heaven.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I did something the next morning that I don’t think I’d done since college. I called in sick. After waking up to find Annie curled around me, I knew that there was no way that I was going to leave her to go in to the office.
We lounged in bed until midmorning, kissing and touching and exploring each other’s body as if neither of us had ever been with another woman. Our kisses were slow. Delicate and delicious.
“If I had known this would be so good, I wouldn’t have waited so long to seduce you.” Annie murmured the words against my ear as the softness of her body pressed down into mine.
“You seduced me?” I placed my hands on her shoulders and pushed her away playfully. I’d taken the pins from her hair early the night before, and now the heavy curls created a sheet of darkness against the bright sunlight that shone in the room.
Now she rolled to her back and I followed, lying beside her and propping my head up in one hand.
“I had to,” she shrugged. “You were taking so much sweet time that I figured you’d never get around to doing it.” She was grinning. “I had no idea you were so shy.”
“I’m not so shy anymore.” I grinned.
“No, you’re not,” she agreed. Her smile grew more serious as she lifted a finger and traced around my mouth. “I can’t tell you how badly I wanted this to happen.”
“Really? When did you decide all of this?”
She didn’t have to think about her reply. “The night at your parents’ house, during the auction. I’d always thought you were attractive before that. But you’d been my adversary on so many occasions.” She pinched my backside gently for emphasis, making me grin. “But that night I knew that I could really grow to care for you if I had the chance.” She was tracing my collarbone with one finger. “What about you?”
I smiled, remembering. “I’m not sure, exactly. But Beth knew I was attracted to you long before I was willing to admit it.”
“Beth?” Annie seemed surprised.
I nodded. “She was the one that kept pushing me toward you.”
“Really?” Annie was grinning. “Remind me to thank her.”
“I will. But I don’t know if I can take her saying I told you so.”
We both heard rumbling from the floor below, and we picked up our heads. It took me a moment to recognize the sounds. “Oh my god. The construction crew. So much for taking the day off.”
Annie just laughed and glanced at the bedside clock. “I should probably get into the shop anyway,” she sighed. “Why don’t you come with me? I could use your help with a few things. You could help me move a few things around and create some new displays.”
The thought actually sounded fun. “You just want me for my brute strength,” I teased.
Annie gave me a smoldering look. “If that’s all I wanted you for, honey, I’d hire me some big burly men. I have many other plans for you in mind.”
Her words sent a chill down my spine. I could hardly wait.
Our lives began to fall into a pattern. Annie continued to show up on my doorstep every evening, where she would inspect the work done during the day before joining me for dinner and long conversations. Occasionally, she would leave at the end of the evening to return to her home. But more often than not, we ended up curled around each other in bed, and she wouldn’t leave until after daylight.
On Saturdays, I joined her at the shop where I learned more and more about the business and the world of antiquing. I learned even more on Sundays, when we would often go to the shop and take care of all of the things that couldn’t be done during the week — bookkeeping and inventory and rearranging displays. Then we reviewed upcoming auctions and events and went through the local newspapers in search of potential bargains. I’d had no idea that there was so much work involved.
We came close to having our first argument when it was time to reconcile the books for Treasured Past at the end of June. After spending hours trying to understand the scribbles in the inventory and sales ledger that Annie kept, I finally convinced her to let me put it all on a computer.
“I hate computers,” she insisted, lifting her chin defiantly.
I stared at her, unflinching. “Do you have a computer?” I asked.
“No.” Her tone was firm.
“Have you ever worked on one?” I asked.
“No.” Again her tone was adament.
I wanted to giggle, but held back and tried the logical approach. “What if I could put all this information into a simple database that would let you maintain your inventory all in one place?”
“It’s all in one place now.” She tapped her finger on the green-lined ledger book that I had been fighting with for many hours.
“Okay,” I began slowly. “But what if I could make it easier to manage. What if I could put your entire inventory in a database and put all your accounting into a single system.” I tried my best to reason with her. “You wouldn’t have to spend so much time at the end of each month trying to reconcile everything.”
She seemed to hesitate, so I took the opening and continued. “You would know every single day exactly where you stand financially, what seems to be selling, what you need to add to your inventory ...”
“But I don’t know anything about computers.” Her voice had given way to anxiety and frustration. “I can teach you, Annie.”
She was wrinkling her nose. “My accountant would certainly be happier.” She sighed. “She’s been after me to automate everything for at least two years now.” She dropped her eyes and pouted. “I hate change,” she growled quietly. “And what if I’m an idiot and can’t learn this computer stuff?”
“I’m very patient, Annie.” My smile was slow. “And a good teacher, I promise.”
Annie lifted her brow. “I imagine you are,” she grinned.
So I set about the task of buying a computer and printer and setting it up in the shop. My mission was first finding the perfect software to handle everything we wanted, and converting all the inventory and bookkeeping to the new system. Our evenings shifted as I came straight to Treasured Past after work each day, picking up where I’d left off the day before.
Annie complained that I’d become no fun, but I kept telling her it was temporary. But from the little ways she would look over my shoulder or answer a question when I couldn’t decipher the scribbles in one of her ledgers, I could tell that she was thankful. She was also catching up in other areas, no longer glancing through the auction announcements and dealer inventories, but actually going out and making purchases to bring back to the shop.
Along with the construction of the great room moving full-steam ahead, life had
become full. So much so that my work at the office was suffering. I knew that I was only doing enough to get by, and knew I also that I didn’t even care.
But Donald Gold cared.
“What are you working on these days?” His voice startled me as his large frame filled the doorway to my office.
I assumed he was really inquiring about his son’s case, and responded in kind.
“I’m still working on your son’s case. I’m meeting again with his attorney next week to try to reach a settlement one more time.”
He seemed to chew on this and frowned.
“Working on my son’s case is very important to me, I assure you,” he began. “But it’s certainly not a full-time job.” His voice was flat and sarcastic. “What else are you working on?”
He had succeeded in scattering my nerves. “I’m finishing up the petition for the Pritchard case,” I stuttered.
“That should have been done two weeks ago,” he snapped. His nostrils were flaring, and I could feel his anger from across the room. “You need to start putting whatever it is that’s got you so occupied aside and get your head back in the game.”
He just stared at me, and I swallowed hard, unable to find a reply. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir.” I managed to squeak the words out and knew they did nothing on my behalf at all. Donald’s frown deepened before he turned and walked away. The silence was deafening.
He had managed to shock me into alertness. He was right, of course. I hadn’t accomplished much of anything in weeks. Everything had changed so much, what with the construction, the shop, the bookkeeping. . . and Annie. That was the difference. Annie had made a tremendous difference in my life. But it was already a little crazy. Both of us seemed to be running full-speed ahead, immersing ourselves in each other’s lives.
I rubbed my eyes. The really crazy thing was that I had no idea where all this was heading. For all the time we spent together, I really had no idea how she felt about me, or about us. Not that I’d volunteered many feelings to her, I reminded myself. But it did feel strange to be rearranging my life so much when I had no idea where it was all heading.
And I still knew so very little about her. She never spoke of the past, and while I was admittedly curious, there never seemed to be the opportunity to ask her about anything specifically. So I decided that there would be plenty of time to get to know her better, to understand how she’d become the woman that she was.
I rubbed my eyes again and let out a long sigh. I had to do something about work, but I didn’t even know where to start. I knew that I had to find some balance, that it wasn’t healthy to be investing so much of myself into Annie.
Annie. I smiled when I thought of her, and how much she had changed my life in such a short time. To hell with Donald Gold, I decided. He and his law firm had little to do with my future.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I couldn’t make sense of what I was looking at. The description in the ledger next to the February 12 entry said RC Plat F.D. REPL — $??. I knew I’d seen the same phrase RC Plat F.D. somewhere else, but couldn’t remember where. To make matters worse, it didn’t even look like Annie’s handwriting, which I’d gotten rather good at deciphering.
I had no idea what an RC Flat F.D. was, or how much to enter as the sale price for the item, and I was growing frustrated. Normally I would have kept going and moved on to the next item, except that I’d already moved past it twice and was ready to reconcile the month. Annie was out at an auction, and I was irritated that I wouldn’t be able to finish. So far I’d completed every other month through June, and February was the only thing that got in the way of completing the project. I wanted so badly to be able to finish up and begin to show Annie how to keep track of things going forward.
“Ah.” I actually said the word aloud as I knelt down and searched the shelves below the counter. Annie kept copies of all the receipts in shoeboxes under the counter. All I had to do was find the copy and enter in the amount. Simple enough.
Except that the receipt number wasn’t in its proper place. So I had to go through each receipt from the box marked February, until I finally found the copy near the bottom. Thirty-eight dollars. Mission accomplished, I put the box back where I’d found it and turned back to the computer and typed in the amount. A few button pushes and mouse clicks later, I ran some reports and was surprised by the results. I was off by thirty-eight dollars. Dammit. The cash-register receipts didn’t match up to the entries in the ledger.
“Hi.” I heard Annie’s voice at the same time that I heard the jingle of the bell above the door.
“Hi.” I wasted no time in rounding the corner and pulling her into a big hug. “How did it go?”
She groaned in reply. “A waste of time, really. Everything was in such lousy shape, and I just don’t have the time or the energy or the patience to do any major restoration work.” She kissed me quickly.
“So you’re empty handed?” I asked.
“Afraid so,” she sighed. “How’s it going with you? Have you tamed the beast yet?” We had begun to refer to the project that I’d undertaken as simply the beast.
“I’m almost done.” I had to temper my enthusiasm. “I’ve got everything balanced except for February. Do you think if I showed you something you might be able to figure it out?”
“Does it have to do with math?” she mocked, and I laughed.
“Only a little bit,” I assured her. “There’s just this one entry that I’m having trouble with.” I walked to the other side of the counter and turned the ledger around so that she could read it. She leaned in for a close inspection as I began to ramble.
“Number twenty-three-fourteen, see?” I pointed to the entry. “There’s no price beside it, and so I dug up the pink copy.”
She raised her eyes to mine quickly, all traces of the previous smile now gone. “Did you find it?”
“Yeah.” I squatted down and lifted the lid from the shoebox, removing the receipt. She took it from my hands and stared at it hard.
“Thirty-eight dollars.” Her voice sounded hollow.
“Yeah. So I thought I was all set except that after I entered the amount, I was off for the month by thirty-eight dollars.” I watched the steady frown grow on her lips, and I wished I hadn’t brought any of this up.
“It’s no big deal, really. Your cash deposits are just off by thirty-eight dollars for the month. That’s all.” I tried to sound lighthearted, but knew that my attempts were failing. Annie was upset. Her facial expression and body language were screaming volumes.
“Annie. It’s only thirty-eight dollars. No big deal.”
She was ignoring me, the anger on her face something I don’t think I had ever seen before.
When she finally spoke, her voice was tight and even. “It’s a lot more than that, I’m afraid.”
I watched her for several moments, not believing that she could be getting so upset over such a small amount of money. Finally she nodded toward the cash register, and I followed her gaze.
It had been there for a very long time. A white copy of a sales receipt that had been taped to the side of the cash register. I’d glanced at it many times but had never known its significance or why it was there. Receipt number twenty-three fourteen. Now I reached out and carefully pulled it down as I studied the writing.
RC Plat F.D.— $2100.00.
“Twenty-one hundred dollars?” My voice was high. What in the hell did all this mean?
“Exactly.” Annie’s voice was heavy as she took the receipt and laid it next to the yellow copy on the counter. Except for the amount they were identical—alnost. Annie was shaking her head.
“Annie.” I felt suddenly very far away from her. “What’s going on? What does all of this mean?” My concern was growing.
“It’s a long story.” She looked defeated, all brightness vacant from her features. “Awhile ago,” she began, then corrected herself. “February twelfth to be exact, my ex-husband came roaring in her
e saying that he had found someone who was looking for a replica of a Royal Copenhagen platter. Flora Danica, to be exact. Apparently he had noticed that I had one here and said he was doing this guy a favor and picking it up for him.” She stopped and shook her head. “I should have known better.”
I continued to stare at her, not understanding.
“He made a big deal about filling out a receipt and entering it into the ledger, and I just wanted him to get the hell out, so I told him to leave. He had never left any money, and I never bothered to make up the thirty-eight dollars.”
Her husband was a prick. I’d already figured that out. Beyond that, I didn’t really understand what all this meant. Now she was shaking her head again as she stared at the receipts. Her smile was sour as she looked at me again.
“See the difference here?” She pointed to the receipts. On the store copy, it says REPL, which stands for replica. “On the original, there’s no such notation.”
I saw the difference between the two, but still had no idea what she was so upset about. I stared at her dumbly.
“A gentleman returned the platter about a month ago. He said that my husband had represented it as an original Royal Copenhagen. He’d thought he was getting a bargain for only twenty-one hundred dollars.”
The light was beginning to go off in my head.
“Your husband sold a replica as an original?”
“Exactly.” She dropped her hands to the counter. “And he pocketed over two thousand dollars in the deal. Two thousand dollars that I had to come up with to reimburse the guy that he sold it to.”
“But you weren’t the one that sold it to him!” I was livid.
“No. But the receipt that he had has Treasured Past’s logo on it. He thought he was making a purchase from a reputable dealer. I had to pay him to keep my reputation.”
I was shocked. What kind of a son of a bitch would do such a thing? “Annie, we have to do something to get your money back.”
She was shaking her head.
