He bent down to get at eye level with the boy. “And is she married?”
“Heck, no. Why would she do a stupid thing like that?”
Kipp smiled, his heart singing. He anxiously looked around. “Does she have a boyfriend?”
“Why? You want the job, dude?”
He stood up, patting the boy on the shoulder. Why you little… “Go find something that looks like a cornucopia with a black powder in it.”
“A corny what?”
“Like a…a cow horn.”
“Sure,” he said, dashing off to parts unknown.
The bell jingled as another customer came inside. This time, a well-groomed blonde man, about Kipp’s age, came in dressed in a tailored brown suit. He strutted straight for Adele, kissing her on the cheek.
Does she have a boyfriend? That answered that question.
Chapter Two
Adele ushered the two women over to the figurines and unlocked the case.
“Let me know if you need me to get something out for you.” She hung the keys back around her neck and waited patiently, daydreaming about the tool collector.
Her heart had taken a nosedive like a swimmer off a diving board and then landed precariously back into her chest, fluttering, when she had first laid eyes on him. He’s so fine—tall, strong, chiseled features with expressive green eyes looking over the top of his glasses at her as he had talked. Sexy. Even his long, squared fingers sent her heart skipping.
Reggie strutted into the shop, marched straight up to her, and kissed her on the cheek. “Hello, baby cakes.”
She darted a look around for the gorgeous tool collector. He’d seen. Sugar fritters! Why did Reggie have to show up right now?
“Don’t call me that, Reggie,” she said, taking the back of her hand and wiping off her cheek.
“I told you, I have no intention of giving up.”
She groaned under her breath. He never gave up, not since she was sixteen. Just because they had grown up together, their dads were friends, and Zymon and Reggie were best friends, that didn’t make her Reggie’s personal property. She’d told him she wasn’t interested repeatedly but he was just one of those individuals that didn’t take no for an answer. She found it hard to be rude, but Reggie didn’t get rude either. What did she have to do? Move away? Well, Reggie’s advances were just one more reason for moving on with her life.
“What do you want, Reggie?” she asked, none too politely.
“A date.”
She dug her nails into her palms. “For the final time, no.”
The two women looked up at them, and she could think of nothing else to do but smile.
“I can take you away from all of this,” Reggie whispered. “My father has already written it out in his will that I will inherit the art gallery.”
Planning his father’s funeral. How disgusting. “Your father is only in his fifties and in perfect health. Besides, I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
One of the women signaled her to get out a green Wedgwood vase.
“It means a secure future. For us,” he added dramatically, still trying to keep his voice down.
She spied the tool collector showing Zeke and Zach all about the gun, Fresca continually jumping at him. Panic filled her. He was supposed to take the gun away, not instruct them how to shoot it. The boys were totally engrossed. Of course, they would be. Didn’t he know anything about children?
She took out the Wedgwood vase and carefully placed it on the counter. The two women chatted, checking the price discreetly.
Come on. I’ve got to stop him before they shoot their eye out.
“Twenty percent off just for today,” Adele said, hoping to make a quick sale. “Actually thirty.”
Reggie took her arm and led her over to the end of the counter. “Come on, baby cakes. Just one date, dinner and a movie. What do you say?”
“I say, you better get back to the gallery. Sorry, Reggie.”
He tried to kiss her on the lips and she turned her head, his kiss landing on her cheek.
He smiled. “You’ll come around. I have faith.”
Sugar fritters! What was it going to take to discourage poor Reginald Vega. She’d been politely, even rudely at times, rejecting his advances over the years. But he just kept coming back for more, like every time he broke up with some other girl. And what would the tool collector think?
“Who’s the big galoot with the kids?” he asked.
“Actually, a customer. I better get back to work.”
He frowned. “I’ll check back later.”
She closed her eyes and rubbed at her forehead. What would it take to make him go away? A hit man? Could you hire one of them here in Salt Lake City? You still could in Chicago. She shook her head, realizing how ridiculous her thoughts had become.
One of the women tapped the glass counter. “Miss? If you don’t mind.”
Adele realized they’d been trying to get her attention. The women smiled at one another.
“Sorry. Yes?” she said, joining them.
“We’d like to take this piece.”
Adele beamed, knowing they needed the sale. She snuck another look toward her male customer. Reggie hadn’t left. He was talking to the tool man. Her stomach tightened. What could he be saying? They both looked at her.
* * * *
Kipp tried to concentrate on teaching Zeke and Zach about the black powder rifle, but he could hardly take his gaze from Adele and the man who had just kissed her. Twice.
“A black powder rifle is pretty much the same as a contemporary rifle, such as the trigger and trigger guard, open sights, butt stock and fore stock,” he told the boys. “But that’s it. The barrel on a muzzleloader is larger and thicker, usually twice the diameter of the projectile. Some of the guns can even have an octagonal-shaped barrel as opposed to cylindrical.”
“When we gonna load it?” Zeke asked.
“We are not going to load it,” he told them.
“Aw, jeez,” they said in unison.
He kept looking up at Adele. What beauty. “What do you think is the most unique feature of this type of gun?” he asked them.
Zach actually raised his hand as if he were in school. Maybe Kipp would consider becoming a professor after he got his doctorate after all.
“Is it the length of the barrel?” Zach said.
“No, lame brain,” Zeke said, giving his brother a shove. “It’s how you load it. It’s like a cannon.”
Zach shoved his brother back. “I’m not a lame brain, you’re a lame brain.”
“Okay, boys, that’s enough. The most unique feature is the ignition system, also known as a lock. The matchlock was the first lock used with muzzleloaders but there are...”
Blondie headed their way.
“Boys,” he said. “Do you have any sodas in the back?”
Zeke nodded.
“You two go have one and bring me and your aunt one back.”
They scurried off, still arguing about the gun.
Blondie puffed out his chest and smiled. “Hello, Mister…”
“Waterbury,” Kipp replied. “And you?”
“Reginald Vega. I own The Little Louvre Art Gallery down the street.” He turned around to face Adele and folded his arms across his chest.
Kipp didn’t like him. Jealousy? Gut instinct? Didn’t matter. He couldn’t stand the guy.
“Adele is quite the woman,” Reginald said.
“I would not know. I’ve never been in here before.”
“I see.” He rubbed his chin. “We’re planning on getting married.”
His fists clenched. “And this concerns me, how?”
“Oh, it doesn’t. It doesn’t at all. Just making conversation. She said to tell you she’d be done with those ladies in a moment and be right over. What is it you’re looking for?”
He pumped his fists and thought about loading the rifle. “Machinist tools.”
“I can assure you, they don’t carry
anything like that in this shop. You see, I know the inventory quite well.”
He wanted to take the wooden box of taps and hit him over the head with it. “Is that so?”
“You’re wasting your time in more ways than one,” he said, turning and smiling at him.
I wonder how he would look without teeth. He glanced at his watch. “To you I say good day.”
He marched out of the shop, forcing himself not to look at Adele, and climbed into his car. He’d never felt this way before. Seething. That was it. Seething over a woman he’d only just met. And that Reginald Vega. What a pompous, arrogant shiznit.
He pulled away from the curb, moved down the street a few shops, parked, and placed a coin in the meter. He watched and waited. He’d worked hard his whole life, scrimping and saving. He had hopes and dreams and plans for the future. No pipsqueak could tell him what to do without a fight.
Vega came out of the shop looking smug and pleased with himself, heading Kipp’s way. He quickly ducked into the Yarn Over Shop and picked up a colorful skein of yarn as if interested, all the while watching Vega march down the street. The crud!
“Can I help you, sir?” a young woman with big plastic-framed glasses asked.
“Very colorful and nice these are. Thank you.” He rushed from the shop and headed back down the street to Abberley Antiques.
* * * *
Adele flung her head on the conference room table. Fresca pawed at her.
“What’s wrong, Aunt Adele?” Zach asked, brushing his hand along her back.
“Nothing you’d understand, but thanks.”
She wasn’t sure she understood herself. She’d only just met the man. She didn’t even know his name. Oh, why had Reggie had to come in and what must he have said to make the man leave so quickly. She could go postal on him.
“Is it about Kipp? You kinda liked him, huh?”
She leaned up. “Kipp? That was his name?”
Zach nodded. Fresca whined.
“He asked if you were married.” He brushed her hair away from her face.
She sniffed. “What did you tell him?”
“I said, heck yes, and she’s got seven kids.”
“You did not,” she said, giving him a playful swat.
Zach smiled. “He likes you, Aunt Adele.”
“Don’t tell her that, stupid,” Zeke said, coming into the conference room. “She’ll never see him again, and we’re never gonna find out how this old gun works.” He laid the rifle on the table.
“You shouldn’t be messing around with that anyway,” she told them.
“Kipp told us it wasn’t a toy. Said it was a dangerous and unpredictable firearm not to be played with.”
“He did?”
“Yes, he did,” Kipp said, walking into the room.
“Kipp,” the boys yelled in unison.
Adele quickly wiped her tears and stood up. “We’d thought you’d gone for good.”
“We hadn’t made a final arrangement about the taps,” he said. “Don’t sell them until you’ve talked to me, Kipp Waterbury. I’ll give you my number so you can call me when you determine the price.”
“Yes. Yes, of course. Boys, get him a notepad and pen.”
They scurried off to one of the offices.
“I-I-I’m sorry it was so chaotic while you were here,” she said, feeling like an idiot.
“Your friend, Reginald, said you were planning on getting married.” He peered at her over his glasses, quizzically.
Her jaw tightened. “Reggie,” – is a jerkwad – “is mistaken.”
Relief washed across his handsome face, and she sighed.
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I escorted you to dinner tonight?”
Escorted? What was she doing? She didn’t know anything about him. What would her father say? What if Reggie found out? Who cares.
“That would be nice,” she said truthfully.
“Where can I pick you up?”
The boys and Fresca returned, laughing.
“I-I’ll meet you,” she said. Somewhere where Reggie couldn’t find them. “How about the Italian Restaurant on State Street about the same south?”
“Yes, I know it. Seven?”
“That would be great.”
“You two going out?” Zach asked.
She cringed. “Yes, boys.”
“Aren’t you going to show us more about the black powder rifle?” Zeke asked.
“When I come back for the taps,” Kipp said, nodding and heading out the door.
Fresca traipsed after him.
Had Adele really made a date with a man she’d only just met? Like fireflies glowing and buzzing, her tummy fluttered. What would her family think?
Chapter Three
Why, oh, why had Adele agreed to this date tonight?
She should have known Zymon would still be missing. She had called everyone she knew and they all had made other plans, particularly because of the block meeting tonight. She couldn’t ask Dad to tend the boys, not with the way he had been feeling. She loved her nephews, but they could be a handful. And although she didn’t have kids of her own, she had definitely learned from tending Zeke and Zach so often that she was a helicopter-type of parent. Did she dare take them with her? Lame. Taking two kids with her on a first date. What would Kipp think?
She slipped on her shoes and put on a pair of ruby earrings. She so didn’t want to call him and cancel. But taking the boys on her date…
Knock, knock.
Fresca dashed across the room and scratched on the door.
“Come in,” she called.
Dad opened the door and peeked inside, frowning. “You’re still going?”
“Look, I know you’re not happy.”
“You’ve got that right,” he said, coming in and folding his arms across his chest, his jaw set firm.
“It’s just a date. I’m twenty-eight.”
“I don’t care how old you are. You don’t know this man from Adam.”
She whipped a brush through her hair. “I don’t know any man.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve been too busy taking care of everybody else. I haven’t had a life of my own.”
His brow furrowed. “I’m just a bother and an inconvenience.”
She groaned. “I didn’t say that, Dad. I’m sorry. But, I want to do things with my life.”
“What things? Go out with complete strangers?”
Fresca jumped at her until Adele held out her arms for her to jump into them. Somehow it helped having Fresca on her side.
“I registered for Nursing at the U.”
“You what?”
“You know I’ve wanted to do that ever since high school.”
“That’s nonsense. We have the shop.”
“Zymon has the shop.”
“No, it’s the family’s business.”
“Dad, I want my own life.”
“I don’t understand you. I’ve provided my family with a legacy. This business has been in our family since the Mormon pioneers first settled this state. Your ancestors were there when Brigham Young declared, “This is the place.” He reached for his chest.
She bit her bottom lip. Sugar fritters. He didn’t look well. “I’m sorry, Dad. Please don’t be upset. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.” And she did. Guilt consumed her. “I’ll take the boys with me, and I’ll cut the evening short.”
“I just want you to be happy,” he said, trudging over and giving her a hug.
Right. “I’m going to be late getting there. Watch Fresca for me?”
“Can’t we just put her outside?”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine.”
* * * *
Adele looked around the restaurant, searching for Kipp. Had he decided not to come?
“There he is,” Zach yelled and waved.
“Shhh,” she said. “You want the whole restaurant to hear?”
The boys took off running. What could she do?
She followed, totally humiliated. Not just because of her nephews’ inappropriate behavior but because they were with her on a date.
Kipp hadn’t stopped staring at her since he’d spotted her. The boys jabbered at him and pulled on his arm. He still watched her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, approaching.
He immediately stood. “Sorry for what?”
“Uh, the kids. The fact that I’m late. The noise level.”
She turned her attention to the boys. She’d threatened them all the way to the restaurant on how to behave. It had certainly fallen on deaf ears. “Zeke. Zach. Please.”
“There is nothing to be sorry about,” Kipp said.
His smile warmed her heart. He leaned over and whispered to the boys, reaching into his pocket and pulling out some cash. Zeke took it, counting it while he and Zach slipped into a booth behind them.
“What’s that about?” she asked, taking a seat.
“A pizza party they are going to have,” he said and then pursed his lips. “They are having a pizza party.”
She relaxed the tension in her neck. “What a great idea. By the way, does ninety-five dollars sound fair for the taps? I have them in the car.”
“No. That’s not fair,” he said, frowning.
“Well, ninety then. I can’t go much lower. That’s pretty much cost.”
“No, no, no. What I mean to say is that it’s not fair to you. They are worth at least two hundred dollars.” He pulled out his wallet.
She looked around, nervously. “Not in here,” she said, reaching out and touching his hand. What might people think?
He froze, staring at her over his glasses, a smiled pasted on his face.
“Oh, excuse me,” she said, withdrawing her hand reluctantly.
“Happy am I that you touched me.”
Again, she looked around, hoping no one watched or listened to their conversation. “You can pay me outside when I give them to you at the car.”
He slipped his wallet back into his pocket. She checked on the boys. The server had arrived. Both boys talked to her at once. She kept nodding her head. Zach had built a pyramid out of artificial sugar packets. Zeke had the lid screwed off the parmesan cheese and was about to pour salt into it. She winced. The server retrieved the bottle. How long would this date last?
“Thank you for asking me out tonight,” she said.
“My pleasure,” Kipp said. “I was hoping to get to know you better. So tell me about yourself.”
The server came to take their order.