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  “It’s already been decided,” she replied evenly. “It’s the right thing to do. Deep down, you know that’s true. It’s what your father would have wanted.”

  He pointed a warning finger, his chest heaving. “I’ll stop you, so help me.”

  She waved away the accusing finger. “I’m over the worst of my grieving, and I’m stronger now, so I’ll only say this once. Your father never tried to control me. I’ll be damned if I’ll let you.”

  Jimmy grabbed her half-empty martini glass and hurled it across the room. The glass hit the far wall, splashed vodka, and shattered into claw-like shards on the carpet.

  Victoria flinched, and sweat broke over her brow. Her hands began to shake and her breathing turned shallow as a panic attack loomed. The violent scene awakened memories of drunken rages and the cringing child she once was, but she resisted the resurrected emotions.

  Deep breaths. Find a focal point in the room…and breathe.

  After a moment, she stood, and somehow managed to keep her knees from buckling. “Don’t you dare try to bully or threaten me.” She refused to act like a victim, even when she was vulnerable.

  Something in her demeanor must have warned Jimmy off, because he took a few steps back. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to know you’ve met with Carlson?” His voice faltered and some of the fury had seeped from his tone.

  “Steve told me about the falling out you two had in medical school.”

  “Steve, huh?” Jimmy’s eyes flashed again, though she saw more pain than anger reflected there. “Falling out?” He gave a derisive laugh. “Is that what he called it? Did he tell you what a sneaking, lying bastard he is?”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “He seemed embarrassed.”

  “Oh, so you’re defending him now?”

  Was she defending a man she’d only just met? A man she’d decided to trust? There was no time to consider the point. She had to make Jimmy understand she wasn’t trying to undermine him.

  “Steve Carlson cared about James and he cares about our family, not just about our money. Carlson has personal ties to your father’s estate. To Pinnacle, we’re just another business deal. Mitchell and Vega could care less about us as people. When they look at us, all they see are dollar signs.”

  Jimmy rubbed a hand over his brow and released a long breath. “Look, I’ve been a good sport. It was tough, but I think I was decent about losing my full inheritance when my dad remarried. It wasn’t easy to watch him replace my mother with a woman half his age, but I kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t my business, and I wanted him to be happy. I loved my father. I even grew to…like you, too.” His voice cracked.

  Victoria’s eyes brimmed with tears she blinked back. Jimmy had never admitted to having any kind of feelings for her. She found the edge of her chair with the heel of her foot and sat down.

  “Do you think you’re the only one who’s suffered with his loss?” Jimmy choked on the words and pounded a fist into an open palm. “He was my father. He’s gone and now I have no one. Have you ever once thought to ask me how I was doing without him?”

  Jimmy took another deep breath and blew it out. “Pinnacle is a solid company. I thought recommending them would avoid dealings with Carlson’s and would also help you, since you told me you were too fragile to arrange a deal after my dad’s death.”

  Confusion and doubt washed over her. “It didn’t occur to me.”

  “No, of course it didn’t,” he replied through his teeth. “You never asked. And now you’ve chosen the man who almost ruined my life to handle my father’s assets.”

  Jimmy’s features contorted with agony. “Steve Carlson ran off with the woman I intended to marry.”

  “He…what?” Her pulse fluttered inside her throat. Could she have made a horrible mistake in judgment?

  “Are you satisfied, now that you know the dirty little details? Next, I’ll hear you’re sleeping with him. It would be just like him to fuck my dead father’s wife.”

  Victoria rose from the chair. “Enough.” She reached out as if to console him, but dropped her hand, knowing she was the last person on earth to bring him comfort. “I’m sorry that happened to you. Really. But…don’t you see this isn’t about you?”

  Jimmy’s expression filled with contempt. “It’s more about me than you realize.” He turned toward the doorway.

  “You’re wrong that you have no one,” she called after him.

  Jimmy’s shoulders stiffened. He didn’t turn around. “Don’t force me to contest the will. After a long and bloody court battle, I’ll see you back on the streets where you came from.”

  *****

  “Ahoy. Give me a kiss,” the cockatiel squawked and screeched.

  Victoria nudged a small birdcage through the rear door of Carlson’s Antiques Emporium behind the deliverymen. Beverly supervised the activity in a flurry of diaphanous fabric and jangling bracelets, directing the muscled youths to the prime sales space reserved for the renowned Van Orr Collection.

  “That’s the last piece,” the driver said, turning to Victoria, sweat clinging to his cheeks. He held out an invoice. “All the stuff you wanted for the shop has been brought inside.”

  Victoria set the birdcage on top of an old marble-topped plant stand, took the bill and signed.

  The most valuable items, including Louis VXI furniture, Impressionist paintings, and Lydia Van Orr’s renowned doll collection had been moved to the shop two weeks earlier in a security van, appraised, and either displayed in locked showcases or brought to the Carlson warehouse in anticipation of private sales. Victoria had assisted with the first phase of her consignment, but would begin her full-time commitment to the shop with this final move.

  “Oooh, a cockatiel.” Beverly cooed and wagged a finger at the orange and white bird. “What’s his name?”

  “Pirate.”

  Beverly chuckled. “Cute.”

  “I hope you don’t mind that I brought him along. He gets lonely at home by himself.”

  “He’ll be a hoot.” Beverly snorted at the pun. “The customers will enjoy him, and so will we.” She wiggled her finger again. “Does he bite?”

  “Not so far, but I’d be careful with that finger if I were you.”

  Beverly laughed good-naturedly. “Wouldn’t be the first time I poked where I shouldn’t have.” She cackled at her own joke.

  Pirate squawked. “Hey, sexy lady.”

  Victoria smiled. “James taught him that. Pirate was a first-anniversary gift from my late husband.”

  Beverly threw kisses at the bird. “He made my day.” She turned back to Victoria. “I think I’m gonna like having you here, Vic.” The woman’s stomach rumbled. “I’ve been reorganizing the store. I’ll show you around after we get some lunch.” She reached out to touch Victoria’s hand. “I’ll buy, you fly.”

  Beverly’s fingers lingered over the wide gold wedding band Victoria wore on her left hand. The antique ring was set with precious stones and engraved with detailed etchings. The older woman stared. “May I?”

  Victoria was aware of Beverly’s penchant for jewelry, but was reluctant to remove the band. Maybe she was being silly, but the antique ring was given to her on the most intimate night she’d ever shared with her husband, and she rarely took it off.

  James had presented the ring in bed, where they’d made love the night he’d signed the biggest deal of his life. They’d been married three years, enough time to settle into their marriage but early enough not to take one another for granted—and before his symptoms started. Before he began to go to bed early, too tired from the demands of his workday to make love.

  Beverly seemed to sense her trepidation. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. It’s just… I’m getting a strong vibe from your wedding ring. I have this…ability.”

  Victoria was curious now. “Are you psychic?”

  “I like to think of myself as sensitive, though the official term for seeing the living history behind an object is called ps
ychometrics. Since I was a girl, I’ve been able to touch things and visualize former events or the people surrounding them. I sense a mood or intuit bits of information about the previous owners. I was terrified by my visions at first, but gradually came to understand they’re part of what makes me who I am.” She fluttered a hand. “It’s hard to verify what I see, of course. Psychometrics isn’t science. Maybe my need for validation is what brought me to antiques restoration.”

  Beverly offered a tiny smile. “Restoration is exacting. The value of precious items can be destroyed if improperly handled. I research the history of rare and often delicate pieces, repair them, and uncover their original beauty. Restoration is the perfect outlet for my artistic nature and the process brings me tremendous peace. I’m a Gemini. Maybe that explains me, too.”

  Victoria smiled and took a closer look at Beverly Orange. She wasn’t the fluff-head she pretended to be. “What kind of things do you see when you have…visions?”

  “When I touched your ring, I felt a flash of intense heat inside my solar plexus. That’s why I wanted to hold it—in case I sensed anything else.”

  Victoria pulled the wedding ring from her finger and offered it to Beverly.

  The other woman held the band tight in her palm and closed her eyes as if meditating. Her breathing slowed and she stood stock-still.

  Victoria hoped the phone wouldn’t ring or that Pirate wouldn’t squawk and disturb her.

  The silence inside the store swelled and then pressed against her ears like warm hands. The sound of her pulse beating in her throat intensified with her anticipation of Beverly’s vision. A ticking clock formed a subtle duet with her heartbeat. White noise from the traffic outside whooshed past the picture window.

  After a long moment, Beverly’s eyes flew open and her body relaxed. “This ring belonged to James’s grandmother. She gave it to him shortly before her death.”

  Victoria gasped, awestruck. It took her several seconds to reply. “That’s right.” She stared down at the ring in Beverly’s hand. Florence Van Orr’s gold band was a symbol of steadfastness, vision, and faith in the future. It was also Victoria’s most prized possession.

  Beverly’s eyes sparkled and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. She petted the stones with a blunt fingertip and tilted her head. “Florence told James to give this ring to the love of his life.”

  Victoria’s pulse raced. “But James was married to Lydia when his grandmother died.”

  Beverly passed her a knowing look. “Well, then, it seems he saved the ring, didn’t he?”

  Could that be true? The idea was hard to fathom. “I always wondered why he hadn’t given it to Lydia. They were devoted to one another.”

  Maybe he hadn’t had time. Lydia had died a year after Florence passed. “James told me his grandmother used to say, ‘Finding love once is a precious gift. Finding love twice is a miracle.’ Florence was his grandfather’s second wife.”

  Beverly winked. “Clearly, then, you were his miracle. Your love must have taken him by surprise.”

  James had said that, too. Victoria had been his “shimmering surprise package.”

  A lump formed in her throat with the memory and she swallowed it down. She’d always wondered how she compared to Lydia. James’s late wife had been his partner for almost as many years as Victoria had birthdays. They’d had a son together and built an empire of the family business. From what she’d learned, Lydia was the perfect wife and mother, the consummate hostess and sought-after friend.

  That unwelcome, nagging feeling of inferiority tormented her. Who was she compared to James’s polished, popular first wife? The trophy. The luxury. The nobody.

  Yet—James had given her his grandmother’s ring to celebrate his crowning achievement, just as Florence’s husband had given the ring to her.

  “Thank you,” Victoria whispered. She tried to keep her voice steady, but it cracked.

  Beverly folded a large, work-weary hand over Victoria’s manicured fingers. “Can I ask you a personal question? You don’t need to answer, ’cause I’m just being nosy. That, plus I’m interested. It’s my nature.” Beverly chuckled and Victoria smiled back. It was hard not to smile with Beverly around.

  “Why are you working here when you obviously don’t need the money? A woman in your position can have whatever she wants. Go anywhere she wants. Why wait on customers in a musty antiques shop when you can own the world?”

  Victoria met Beverly’s eyes and watched anticipation sparkle in their gray-green depths.

  There was nothing to do but tell the truth. Beverly had given Victoria something few others had offered in her lifetime. Instant acceptance.

  “I can buy the one thing here I can’t find anywhere else.”

  Beverly’s brow creased with her curious frown. She leaned closer. “What’s that? Tell me, I’m dying to know.”

  “I’m buying time,” Victoria replied.

  Chapter Four

  When the customer flow had ebbed, the women munched thick chicken-salad sandwiches behind rows of glass jewelry counters filled with estate sale rings, watches, earrings and other small valuables. Victoria hadn’t had a lunch partner since her days at the department store; she enjoyed Beverly’s company.

  “When you said you were buying time, what did you mean?” Beverly shifted her weight on a stool and then met Victoria’s eyes. “Will you tell me?”

  Beverly had a warm and open personality and approached others with the same forthrightness she offered. It had been a long time since Victoria confided in anyone and it would feel good to talk to another woman. It couldn’t hurt to give honest answers. She hadn’t had many friends in her life.

  “I’m going to answer your question with a question.” Victoria laid her sandwich on a napkin on the countertop and turned her attention back to Beverly. “What would you do if, tonight, without warning, your husband died?”

  She held up her hand to stop Beverly from blurting an automatic response. “Think about that before you answer.” She waited, giving Beverly time to consider.

  Fear seeped into the other woman’s eyes and she took a big bite of her chicken salad and chewed, seemingly lost in thought.

  Victoria continued. “I have no illusions about myself. I was a simple working-class woman when I married James.”

  Beverly’s expression registered shock as she took another nibble.

  Victoria laughed. “Did you think I was born into Chester County society?”

  Beverly swallowed and nodded. “Your speech is polished and you wear designer clothes even when you’re unpacking storage crates or eating a sandwich. It never occurred to me you were anything but upper crust.”

  “I guess you can make a silk purse from a sow’s ear if you work hard enough.” Victoria shook her head. “Though I never fooled anyone in James’s inner circle. The truth is, I have no family to speak of and no place to go now that James is gone. I need to sell my house, because it’s ridiculous to live in a mansion alone—but I’m paralyzed by fear. I have no idea what to do with my life. I have no idea where I fit.”

  Victoria sipped bottled iced tea to steady herself. Beverly waited with the same patience she’d shown when listening. Empathy radiated from her like a soft ocean breeze, lulling Victoria into a sense of security about sharing her story.

  She set down the bottle and continued. “I paid my way through college by working a string of grubby waitress jobs and living with even grubbier roommates. After graduation, I landed a management trainee position in the cosmetics department of a major department store. After I got the job I found out where my mother was living in Ohio and got in touch with her. It had been years since we’d spoken.”

  “I bet she was happy to hear from you.”

  Victoria left out the fact that her mother had abandoned her as a teen, and was grateful Bev didn’t ask for details about the estrangement. “She was. I missed my mother, as crappy a parent as she’d been. I guess we never stop needing our mothers, do we?” />
  “I never have. I see my mom every week and we text almost every day. Don’t know what I’d do without her.”

  A phantom ice pick struck Victoria’s chest. She wished with every fiber of her being she could have a relationship like that with her mother. “You’re lucky to have that connection. When I got the job as a management trainee, I wanted my mother to be proud of me. I guess I thought if that happened she’d love me enough to stay in touch.”

  “And did she?”

  Victoria mustered a smile. “As far as my mother was concerned, a management job was as good as becoming President of the United States. She cleaned houses when she could find work—when she was sober. Mom never imagined her only child would actually finish high school, let alone college.”

  “Did contacting her end your estrangement?”

  Not the way Victoria had hoped. “Mother was especially happy about my success when I started sending the monthly allowance she asked for.” Victoria made a face. “Who says money can’t buy love?”

  Beverly reached over and touched her hand. “I’m sorry, Vic. You deserve better.”

  Victoria sucked in a breath and let it out slow. “James made up for a lot. His love was like a dream.” She took another bite of her sandwich.

  Beverly gulped a Diet Coke. “Is that where you met him, at the department store?”

  “Yes. A few months into the job.”

  She stared over Beverly’s shoulder, recreating James’s image in her mind. “I always notice a person’s eyes first, and James had the most arresting eyes I’d ever seen. They drew you in and held you captive. When he smiled, he made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered. Yet he didn’t flirt and never said anything inappropriate. He was just naturally charismatic.”

  “Sounds like he blew you away.” Beverly tilted her chin and made kissing sounds. Both of them laughed.

  “Maybe, but he was strictly hands off. James told me he was gift shopping for his wife and I respected that. Everyone seemed to know who he was. Apparently, he was a regular customer. When he left the store, the clerks talked about him like he was a celebrity.”