Ryan wasn’t playing fair. Liz would make it her mission to pay him back one way or another.
As she walked out of Deli-casies, she realized she’d forgotten to get coffee for her and Kate. She did an about face and stomped toward the barista counter. “Two dark roasts. One milk and sugar. One black.”
“Yes, ma’am, Bossy Pants. Let me guess, Kate is cream and sugar and you’re…”
“Wrong again,” she said.
“You wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” he asked.
“None of your business what I do in bed.” She realized how ridiculous that sounded and took the tray with the coffees from his outstretched hand.
“See you soon for the wine and cheese. I don’t think we need you, but my grandfather insists.”
Liz didn’t answer, just turned and clopped off toward the exit.
After she delivered Kate’s coffee, she headed to Home Arts by the Sea. Both Minna and Francie were inside. Minna wore one of her geometric form-fitting spandex dresses that hugged every curve. Francie looked like a character from the movie Grease in a cotton candy–pink circle skirt with an applique of a young teen lying on her stomach, holding a turquoise slimline phone, the receiver coiled to her ear.
“Love your skirt,” Liz said to Francie.
Francie twirled. Her vintage style suited her. Even though Francie was in her forties, she didn’t care how everyone else dressed. Liz needed to take a page from Francie’s playbook when it came to her scar.
Minna and Francie were doing their own raffle. A few lucky winners would receive two free lessons from Francie for the needlework project of their choice in any of the categories offered: quilting, knitting, crocheting, needlepoint, cross-stitch, primitive rug hooking, or sewing. Minna was giving away free painting or mixed-media art lessons. Liz was tempted to fill out slips of paper with her own name and phone number and drop them into each box.
Liz’s next stop was Edward’s shop, Gold Coast by the Sea. Edward wasn’t there, but his son, Nick, was.
“Edward’s in the back storage room.” Liz always found it interesting that Nick called his father “Edward,” not “Dad.” Nick was tall and thick-necked, with massive shoulders. His tousled hair looked professionally highlighted. He wore an aqua polo shirt and plaid shorts that didn’t mesh with the huge snake tattoo that traveled from below his elbow and then disappeared under his shirtsleeve to the top of his bulging, weight-lifter biceps. Offsetting his attractive facial features were yellowed teeth, no doubt stained from cigarettes. He reeked of them. Brittany was close to Liz’s age, and Nick looked like he was in his early twenties. An odd pair.
Liz walked over to the front show case on her right. The top was smudged with fingerprints. She might be overstepping her bounds, but she said, “Maybe you get some Windex and clean off the show case? We open in a few minutes.”
She heard from behind her, “Don’t worry about my shop. I pay my rent on time and pay you for advertising. Though I doubt that tiny ad you placed will do any good. I don’t need decorating advice from you. I’ve been in the business for forty-eight years.” Then Edward turned to his son and said, “I thought I told you to clean the cases last night? Another night not at home. Maybe you don’t need free room and board, not to mention a job anymore?”
Nick said, “Okay, old man. Settle down. It takes two minutes to clean a case. You’re always bitchin’. How about all my help and the time I spent salvaging on Mermaids Bounty? I suppose that counts for nothin’.”
“Your ‘help’? You never took time out of your social schedule even to learn to dive.”
“I’m claustrophobic. Mom would have understood. Clean your own damn case. I’m outta here.” Nick whipped past Liz and went in the direction of the storeroom.
Liz was embarrassed to have witnessed the emotional exchange between father and son, and she quickly turned toward the shop’s entrance, bumping into something solid. David Worth.
“So sorry. My apologies,” he said.
Liz laughed. “My fault completely.”
David looked nervous. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. He was probably on a timed errand for his demanding wife.
Edward came from behind his desk. “Can I help you with something? Ms. Holt was just leaving.”
David looked into the show case on the left. “Um, I’m looking for something for my wife. Apparently, I’m in the doghouse and I saw you listed in the brochure in our suite.”
Edward gave Liz the stink eye. She left the shop, worried that if she didn’t, he might physically push her out. She wondered who’d let David Worth into the emporium before the opening. No doubt, it was Aunt Amelia.
As she headed toward the emporium’s main doors, she heard David say to Edward, “It’s not gold enough. It has to be eighteen-karat gold-plated or above, no cutting corners.” His tone was forceful, and he sounded angry. Perhaps Regina was rubbing off on him. Gold Coast by the Sea had some nice pieces, but nothing compared to Regina’s father’s eighteenth-century jewelry from the San Carlos.
Upbeat music floated toward her from the string quartet. It was almost ten, time to open the doors. She heard Aunt Amelia accompanying the musicians with a few lines from the song “Send in the Clowns,” using her exaggerated Broadway voice, even though she’d never been on Broadway, only performing at the Pasadena Playhouse when she’d lived in California, and the Melbourne Beach Theatre. As she sang, Aunt Amelia added an extra dragged-out sound at the end of each line she belted out: “Isn’t it riiiich… Aren’t we a paaaiiir…”
Liz rushed up and steered Aunt Amelia away from the quartet. “Time to send in the crowds, not the clowns.”
“I originally wanted to sing Babs’s ‘Don’t Rain on My Parade,’ from Funny Girl, to ward off any bad weather, but they didn’t know how to play it.” She wore one of her colorful Hawaiian muumuus from the set of
