The Gilded Mirror

by L. M. Somerton

  “I just put that out. You have a good eye.”

  Landry preened. He handed his cat to Gage then picked up the mirror to take a closer look. It was surprisingly heavy and much bigger than the usual dressing table size. When he turned it over, there were no markings on the wooden back. “I’d guess this is early 1900s. It has an art nouveau feel about it.”

  “It’s yours for fifty dollars.”

  “Are you sure? That seems so little for such a beautiful piece.”

  “Fifty dollars is the price, and you must promise to give the cat a good home.”

  “I will,” Landry said, handing over some bills. “It’s already bringing me some luck, it seems. You’re absolutely sure about this?”

  “Young man, do I look senile?”

  Gage snorted. “Honey, thank the man. He has other customers waiting.”

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t notice.” There was a short line hovering behind Landry. “Thank you so much.”

  Gage steered Landry away from the stall. “Give me the mirror. You can carry the cat.”

  “Not macho enough for you?”

  “Landry…”

  Landry handed over the mirror, which Gage tucked under his arm. “Gimme my cat.” Landry stroked it then gave it a kiss. “You’re gonna be right at home with my feline family, don’t you worry.”

  “You’re certifiable. Let’s go.” Gage led the way back to his Jeep because Landry, whose sense of direction was flawed at the best of times, had no clue where it was in relation to their current location. “It amazes me that you can make it from the store to the coffee shop and back without getting lost,” Gage said.

  “I did turn out of the café door the wrong way one time. I had this super large, caramel latte with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. It distracted me. I’d walked all the way past St. Peters before I realized I was heading in the wrong direction. Are we nearly there yet? I think I have a blister.”

  “You sound like a five-year-old but yes, the car is across the street.”

  “Yay!” Landry’s energy returned and he bounced over to the Jeep. He scrambled into his seat while Gage wrapped the mirror in a blanket then laid it on the back seat. He brushed some dust from his hands. “That thing’s filthy,” he complained as he climbed behind the wheel.

  “It’ll be beautiful once I’ve cleaned it.” Landry fiddled with the radio dial until he found a station playing Lady Gaga. “I suspect it’s worth a lot more than I paid for it. I feel a bit guilty about paying so little.”

  “Perhaps the guy picked it up for next to nothing himself. I’m sure he made a profit on it. Will you sell it in the store?” Gage pulled out into the trickle of traffic.

  “I might fall in love with it, then I won’t be able to part with it.”

  “Is that what happened with me?” Gage grinned.

  “Nah, you fell for me first ‘cause I’m too adorable to resist.”

  “You’re blushing.”

  “Keep your eyes on the road, Detective.”

  After a quick stop for supplies, Landry trudged up the stairs to the apartment. He carried his lucky cat and a bag of groceries while Gage lugged two more bags and the mirror. By the time the shopping was stowed, and the cat installed with its new companions on a shelf, Landry was wilting.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he moaned, collapsing onto the couch. “I’m shattered.”

  “You do seem a bit pale.” Gage pressed the backs of his fingers to Landry’s forehead. “I think you might be coming down with something. You feel like you have a temperature and it’s not like you to be so tired.”

  “I hate being ill. This only came on this morning so maybe I just need a nap. You wore me out last might. Another few hours and I’ll be good.”

  “Why don’t you get into bed? I’ll get the thermometer from the first aid kit and find some Tylenol. If you are sick, we can get a head start on getting you better and if not, painkillers won’t do you any harm.”

  “I don’t have time to be ill. I have a store to run.”

  “You have time to do what I say.” Gage narrowed his eyes. “If you’re sick, we’ll manage.”

  “I have a feeling your bedside manner is gonna suck.” Landry hauled himself upright. “Ooh, did I have vodka because the room is kinda spinning?” Gage scooped him off his feet then carried him to the bedroom.

  “Do you feel sick?” Gage plopped him onto the bed.

  “No, but there’s some pressure in my ear. Feels peculiar.” Landry smacked the side of his head.

  “Stop that!” Gage pulled his hand away. “Sounds like you have an ear infection.”

  “I did go to the pool one evening last week when you were working late. I could have picked it up there I suppose.”

  “You mean you actually swam rather than ogle that hot lifeguard you fancy?”

  “He wears such teeny shorts and…wait, what? You’ve never been to the pool with me so how did you know…?”

  “He’s dating one of Sancha’s cousins. Sancha and Ana had coffee, Ana told her about Kelly and where he works. You’d told Sancha you liked to swim at the same pool…it didn’t take much coaxing before your dreamy-eyed gazes came out. Kelly likes to tell Ana about his regulars, apparently. Especially the characters.”

  “I’m ill…I’m not responsible for my actions, though I quite like the idea of being a character.”

  “You weren’t ill when you went to the pool. This is karma. We’ll be discussing your behavior in more detail when you’re better. A lot more detail.”

  Landry pouted. “I’m taken, not dead. You should see those cute blue budgie smugglers, then you’d understand and besides, he’s obviously straight.”

  “Budgie smugglers?”

  “Australian for Speedos, though whoever came up with that term has serious issues.”

  “Huh. I understand perfectly by the way, and he’s bi. He told Ana that if he hadn’t been head over heels for her, he might have asked you on a date. He calls you blondie board shorts by the way.”

  “He gave me a nickname? That’s adorable!”

  “You wanna dig that hole a bit deeper?”

  “You know I love you best, honeybuns.” Landry pursed his lips in hope of a conciliatory kiss.

  “Call me that ever again, and I’ll gag you for an entire weekend.” The kiss that followed was firm but brief.

  “How can you be so mean to a sick person?”

  “Take your clothes off, Landry and don’t get any ideas. I’ll fetch you a hot drink and those meds. The only thing on your schedule for the rest of the day is sleep.”

  * * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Gage stood in the bedroom door watching Landry sleep. He was snoring, his mouth was open and he was clutching the plush alligator Sancha had given him for his birthday. A warm glow spread through Gage’s body. Shit, I have it bad. He pulled the door, leaving it open a crack so that he could hear if Landry called out then strolled to where his laptop was set up on the dining table. He’d intended to earn some credit with Sancha by catching up on some paperwork. Instead, he called her.

  “Hey, partner.”

  “Hey yourself. Why are you calling me on your day off? What did you do? And stop rolling your eyes.”

  Gage glanced around the apartment, hunting for concealed cameras. “Landry’s sick. I’m worried.”

  “Oh no! What’s up with my best boy?”

  “Hey! I thought I was your best boy.”

  “Sorry honey, Landry is way cuter than you.”

  “Traitor. Just remember who has your back out there in the big, bad world. Landry has all the symptoms of an ear infection. He’s sleeping but he’s flushed and has a slight temperature. Do you think I should take him to the ER?”

  “I’m not a doctor, Gage.”

  “You have kids. They get sick all the time. I’m sure you mentioned Jonas having an ear infection one time.”

  “Damn, you have a good memory. Jonas was only two when he had that. Did Landry th
row up?”

  “No. He has a headache and fatigue. He got tired when we were out earlier today, much quicker than he would usually because you know he’s a ball of energy. He also said he had some pressure in his ear.”

  “He probably got it at the pool mooning over Ana’s Kelly. Definitely sounds like an infection. Unless his temperature gets dangerously high, he should recover in a few days. He might get sick, and his hearing may be affected but the doc won’t prescribe antibiotics initially. It’s one of those things that gets better on its own.”

  “Good to know.”

  “If you’re worried you could ask one of the EMTs from the fire house to drop by.”

  “I don’t want to overreact. It just came on so quickly and Landry is hardly ever ill. His mom told me he has a stronger constitution than his brothers even though he’s half their size.”

  “Ah yes, the Viking twins. Yum.”

  “You’re shameless.”

  Sancha cackled. “No, I have great taste.”

  “And a husband.”

  “Pietro is also hot but that doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

  “Hmm, Landry said something similar earlier when we were discussing the lifeguard at the pool. I need to keep a closer eye on that boy.”

  “Gonna chain him to the bed, huh? You have nothing to worry about where Landry is concerned. That boy thinks the sun shines out of your every orifice, which makes me doubt his sanity, but it takes all sorts I suppose.”

  “You have such an interesting turn of phrase.”

  “You know it. How about tomorrow, will you be working or staying home to nurse Landry?”

  “I’ll let you know in the morning once I get a picture of how he is. I’m going to call Mr. Lao next and let him know he may need to cover the store. Petey’s not been around long enough to manage on his own for a whole day.”

  “Okay, well let me know if I can do anything. I make a mean chicken soup.”

  “You’ve never made that for me.”

  “Your man-flu doesn’t count as a genuine illness, Gage.”

  “You’re a hard woman.”

  “And you’re pathetic when you’re not healthy. I have enough of that with my other half—another man who thinks a head cold is a harbinger of death. Now go minister to the sick, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Gage smiled as he ended the call. Sancha always managed to make him feel better and on this occasion, less prone to panic. He called Mr. Lao next who promised to bring some Chinese herbs with him the next day to make Landry a special tea, after assuring Gage that it would be no problem if Landry needed to spend the day in bed. Petey was last on the list but Gage’s call went to voicemail, so he left a message, guessing that Petey was tied up with Carson. Literally, knowing Carson. Content that he’d done all he could to ensure things went smoothly the next day, Gage settled down to work. He and Sancha were hunting down a money laundering ring—people who enabled the worst of the worst to get away with murder. It was a multi-million-dollar business and had far-reaching implications, none of which were good. The people involved protected their interests with intimidation and violence. Gage couldn’t wait to bring them down.

  He worked for an hour or so but a huge yawn that made his jaw crack signaled it was time for bed. He debated sleeping on the couch to give Landry some space but dismissed it in favor of keeping his spine intact. A pillow-top mattress was not something to be rejected out of hand. He undressed in the dark then slipped beneath the covers. Landry snuffled then shoved his ass back into Gage’s groin, muttering beneath his breath. He quieted when Gage flung an arm over him, holding him close. Still trying to get his own way even when he’s unconscious. Gage wouldn’t have it any different, he much preferred knowing exactly where Landry was. Much less chance of him getting into trouble that way.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, Landry made it to the table in time to have breakfast with Gage. He didn’t have much appetite but spooned down some cereal accompanied by an extra-strong coffee.

  “How are you feeling? Are you sure you’re well enough to go into the store this morning?” Gage asked.

  “Stop fussing!” Landry patted Gage’s hand. “It’s not that bad. Besides, I’m only catching every other word, my head’s all woolly. Like a sheep.”

  Gage scowled. “I think you should go back to bed. You need to rest.”

  “What’s wrong with my head?” Landry patted his hair. “I might feel like a sheep but I don’t want to look like one.”

  “You are treading on very thin ice, young man, sick or not.”

  Landry looked up at Gage from beneath his lashes. “I promise I’ll be fine. I’ll sit in the store cupboard where it’s dark and quiet, then if Petey needs me, I’m there, and Mr. Lao doesn’t need to be on his feet all day. He’s old, you know.” He stood, bowl in hand.

  “He’s fitter than I am, and that’s so not the point. You’re sick. You should stay home.”

  “You’re a fine one to talk. When have you ever taken a sick day? Unless you have a straitjacket handy, you’re not going to win this one. I have a slight headache and my hearing is a bit dodgy. My temperature has gone down—you took it yourself. I’m fine to work, it’s not like I’m flying a plane or doing brain surgery.”

  “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be on your best form. Pity we don’t own a rectal thermometer.” Landry gasped and covered his backside with his free hand. “Heard that well enough then?”

  “I think you should go to work. Sancha will do much worse to you if you’re late.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s true.” Gage scowled, and Landry knew he’d won but managed to prevent a victorious grin. “Fine. You can go to the store but only if you promise me that the moment you feel bad, or if the fever comes back, you’ll come up here to bed.”

  “Pinky swear.” Once he’d cleared up the breakfast things, Landry didn’t quite skip down the stairs to the store. He didn’t feel that well. Gage waited until he was installed in the store cupboard with a mug of Mr. Lao’s ginger tea and his new mirror to clean, then left for work after giving Petey a stern lecture on making sure Landry didn’t over-tire himself.

  When Gage had gone, Petey stuck his head around the store cupboard door. “Your boyfriend is scary intimidating,” Petey said. “He said my life expectancy might reduce if I let you overexert yourself, or at the very least he’d tell Carson to find out how much I enjoyed CBT.”

  “He’s a little overprotective. Ignore him, he’s a squishy teddy bear really.”

  “Could have fooled me. I’m not risking getting my bits squashed in a clamp or some other fiendish torture device, thank you very much. I haven’t seen the contents of Carson’s toy box yet and I’m not sure I want to. He told me he really enjoys predicament bondage and, though I’m kind of intrigued, the idea also gives me the willies.”

  Landry snorted. “You said willies!”

  “What are you, three?”

  “I was never properly socialized as a child. I had to grow up with two hulking older brothers, remember?”

  “Your brothers are rather delicious.” Petey smacked his lips together.

  “Do not go there. Never go there. I have a vivid imagination and I really don’t want my brothers featuring in it.” Landry made retching noises.

  “Don’t do that! Gage will hear and think you’re sick.”

  “He’s in his car on his way to work, Petey.”

  “Like that would stop him. Do you need anything? Mr. Lao says he’s going to stay until lunchtime and he’s promised to show me all the rare books and explain why they’re valuable.” Petey peered over Landry’s shoulder. He had his mirror laid on a cloth on the worktable they used for cleaning and restoration. “That’s pretty, at least, I think it is under all that grime.”

  “I picked it up at the pop-up flea market Gage and I went to yesterday. I’m going to spend the morning giving it a clean.”

  “Okay, well shout if you want anything. I’ll go out for coffee in an hour
or so. Do you think you can wait that long?”

  “Sure. I’m going to be tasting ginger for the rest of the day, anyway. Mr. L’s tea is surprisingly good. Don’t tell him, though, he’ll be unbearable if he thinks I like something other than coffee.”

  “Carson asked me if I had any ginger root last night, but I don’t think he wanted it to make tea with. I didn’t have any and I think that might have been a good thing.”

  Landry wriggled in his seat, imagining the burn that accompanied a good figging. “It’s bad, in a good way. Or do I mean good in a bad way? My brain isn’t working properly today.”

  “No kidding. I need to get to work. You should have warned me about the stare-thing Mr. Lao has going on by the way. The cute old guy is kinda scary too.” Petey blew a kiss in Landry’s direction. “Have fun.”

  Landry rolled his shoulders. Cleaning antiques was delicate work, and he needed to concentrate, not easy considering his headache was growing. He shrugged. Bed’s boring without Gage in it. Before his mind could start wandering into territory involving Gage, bed and the resulting possibilities, Landry grabbed a soft rag. His first job was to remove as much surface dirt as possible. Once that was done, he’d use damp Q-tips to give it another going over.

  The mirror’s carved frame was intricate, full of curls and grooves, as was the handle, which was an inch shy of a foot long. Landry worked systematically from top to bottom. At some point Petey delivered a latte, which Landry drank on autopilot, but it wasn’t until lunchtime that he realized he’d been bent over the mirror for almost four hours without a break. The work was paying off—all over the frame the gilt was beginning to show through, his body however, was protesting.

  He stood, stretched then groaned as his head, shoulders, back and hips all joined forces to protest their mistreatment. Petey stuck his head around the door.