The meeting was winding down and Tricia was picking up empty coffee cups and crumpled napkins when Nikki pulled her aside. “Have you got a minute to talk?”
“Sure. What’s up?” Tricia said, and deposited the papers into the wastebasket.
Nikki pursed her lips and looked embarrassed. “This probably isn’t the best time to mention this, but I didn’t want you to hear it from somewhere else,” she said, and lowered her voice even more when she spoke again. “Russ and I are moving in together.”
Tricia blinked, startled. She and Russ had gone out together for about a year before he’d unceremoniously dumped her-and not even for another woman but a job opportunity that never materialized. Then he’d wanted her back-something she was not keen on. “Oh, well. Congratulations,” she offered.
“In fact.” Nikki held out her hand. “We’re engaged.”
Tricia moved from startled to shocked. “Oh.” Her mind whirled. Russ. Happy. Even more mind-boggling: Russ and the word
Nikki laughed. “Is that all you can say?”
Tricia managed to paste a smile on her lips. “Congratulations-I mean, best wishes. To say I’m surprised is…” Somehow she couldn’t finish the sentence.
“To be quite honest, I was positively shocked when Russ got down on one knee and offered me the ring-it was so romantic. I’ve been through one bad marriage. If anyone had told me two years ago I would even contemplate going through it all again, I’d have spit in his eye. But now…” She again offered up her finger so Tricia could inspect the ring. It was a small solitaire, probably three-quarters of a carat. Tricia’s engagement ring from Christopher had been two carats and in bright sunshine could blind small animals. He’d actually wanted to buy a ring with a bigger stone, but she thought they looked gaudy and unappealing.
“It’s lovely,” she said, and gave Nikki a genuine smile. “Have you set a date?”
Nikki shook her head. “It all depends on finding a place for the reception. The Brookview is all booked. We thought about the Sheer Comfort Inn, but now it looks like they won’t be opening at all.”
Tricia’s gaze dipped, and Nikki’s hand flew to cover her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned that. It must have been just awful for you to find Mrs. Comfort.”
More upsetting than finding Mrs. Comfort was learning about Mr. So-Called-Comfort, but Tricia didn’t voice that. “I really don’t like to talk about it, and I wish the group hadn’t pressed me for details.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was a good idea, either. Shame on Frannie for being so pushy.”
After Frannie had been the object of the same treatment, she’d backed off for several months. But now she was back to her old habits.
“I think I’ll remind them not to bring it up when we start discussing
“I’d appreciate that.”
Nikki nodded and headed back to the group gathered around the reader’s nook.
Ginny shrugged back into her jacket and joined Tricia at the cash desk. She looked around the place. “I sure miss working here sometimes. I didn’t realize how easy I had it.”
“I’m sure you’ve exceeded your new employer’s expectations with everything you’ve done at the Happy Domestic.”
Ginny giggled. “I got another raise last week. According to the books, or what there was of them, sales have tripled since I took over. Ms. Ricita is very pleased with me. At least I think so. I was hoping I’d have had a chance to meet her by now. Antonio is always making excuses for her not visiting Stoneham.”
“Will she be coming to your wedding this summer?”
“She’s on the invitation list, and Antonio promised she’d make it.” Ginny’s gaze dipped, and her expression sobered. “I’m so sorry for all this Harrison Tyler crap. I see his picture is missing from the wall.”
“He asked me to take it down.”
“Well, I won’t ask you any of the details. But if you need to talk to someone, you know I’m discreet.”
“I appreciate it. And I would like to go to lunch with you sometime soon.”
Ginny laughed. “No time like the present to arrange it.”
They made a date to meet during the next week before Ginny waved to the group and headed out the door. Her departure was a catalyst for everyone else to round up their books, coats, and purses.
“Oh, oh!” Frannie said, waving her copy of
“Can’t, gotta work,” Nikki said, and Mary agreed.
“DVR it. That’s what I’m going to do,” Frannie said as they all headed toward the exit.
The others followed her out the door, with only Mary holding back. “Do you mind if I wait a few minutes? Luke said he didn’t want me to walk home alone. He picked me up after closing yesterday. He says he’ll keep doing it until they catch whoever killed Mrs. Comfort.”
“He’s a sweet husband.”
Mary laughed. “I think I’ll keep him.”
A car pulled up to the curb and honked its horn. “Oh, there he is now,” Mary said. “See you later.”
Tricia waited behind the door until Mary got in the car, and then both she and Luke waved and he gave the horn another honk in farewell before the car took off north down Main Street.
The meeting hadn’t taken as long as usual, and it was only seven thirty when Tricia went to turn the deadbolt on the door. She moved to lower the blinds on the big display window and noticed Michele Fowler standing on the sidewalk in front of By Hook or By Book, staring at the building across the street. Was she admiring her handiwork? Angelica had said she’d been hired to manage the latest Nigela Ricita Associates investment-the Dog-Eared Page.
Maybe it was because she felt picked on by the readers’ group-or maybe it was just plain guilt-but Tricia realized that Angelica was right on yet another count. There was absolutely no reason for her to be jealous of her sister’s friendship with Michele.
On impulse, Tricia grabbed her jacket and keys and locked the shop door behind her. Huddling into her collar, she walked up to Michele. “Hey, how’s it going?”
Michele turned, her eyes lighting up and her smile widening. “Hello, Tricia.” Tricia loved to hear that English accent. Michele swept a hand in front of her to take in the front of the new building. “I felt the urge to just stand here for a few minutes and admire my new baby from afar. Isn’t it smashing?”
Tricia eyed the building’s new facade, not at all like its previous incarnation. That was because it had been built to mimic the building it replaced as it originally looked when it was first erected back in 1896. Carved into the granite lintel were the words
“I’m curious. How did you get the job?”
Michele looked confused. “Sorry?”
“To manage the Dog-Eared Page?” Tricia clarified.
“I interviewed, of course.”
“Yes, but how did you find out about the opening?”
“I didn’t. Antonio Barbero paid me a visit at the gallery last fall and asked me what my future plans were. He’d heard I was about to close it and said he wanted to talk to me about the possibility of managing the pub when it opened.”
“Did he say how he heard about you?”
“Of course. Angelica told him.”
“She did? I didn’t know she ever spoke to him.”
“Well, I believe it was actually Antonio’s girlfriend who told him about me, but she had heard about me through Angelica. Isn’t networking divine?”
“Yes, it is.”
“When did you officially start work?” Tricia asked, wondering if she’d missed her calling and should’ve been a reporter, or perhaps a prosecutor, although Michele didn’t seem to mind the mini interrogation.
