Page 30 of Dragged Home for Christmas

“I think I’ve found Nick’s costume jewelry.” Ashley walked into the lobby, carrying a large box. “That man loved his sparkles. There must be a hundred of these.” She set it down on the table and began removing velvet bags with drawstring necks.

Mike finished his coffee, picked up a bag, and opened it. The necklace was curved, designed to drip down the cleavage, and it shimmered with flashes of rainbow colors. “That’s beautiful.”

“That was his favorite,” Anthony said with a sad smile.

“You can’t sell that one.” Elliott’s eyes lit up. “You should wear it for the show.”

“Will you all stop reminding me? I still think it’s a bad idea. I can’t sing—”

“Lip sync, honey.” Jim’s eyes twinkled. “Remember? All we have to do is find you the right song, then rehearse the fuck out of it.”

“And I’ve never worn heels in my life.” Mike wasn’t giving in without a fight.

“Then you practice,” Sam said with a shrug. “Wear ’em around the place, get used to them…” He chuckled. “You should’ve seen me the first time I tried. I was about as graceful as a hippo.”

Anthony snorted. “You still are. About the same size as one, too. I mean, comeon, that ass…”

“Fuck you, bitch.” Sam’s voice held amusement, though.

Mike gaped at Anthony. “Are you kidding? Sam’s slimmer than me. And I think he’s got a nice ass.”

Five pairs of eyes focused on him, and four of them gleamed.

“Oh really?” Jim drawled. “My, isn’t that interesting?”

He coughed. “Let’s get back to the jewelry.” Then he glanced at Ashley. “What are you doing? Are you trying toeatthat pearl earring?”

She laughed. “Don’t you know the simplest way to tell if a pearl is natural or fake is to take the pearl and rub it against your teeth. If the surface feels grainy, then it’s real. If the surface feels smooth, then it’s an imitation.”

“As it happens, I did know that.” Mike stared at the earring nestled in its square box. It was a drop design, with a long dangly piece, three pearls set into the gold. Hanging from the bottom and sitting below the hook were yellow-green gemstones that caught the light.

His heart pounded.

What the fuck?

“Those look like peridot,” Ashley commented.

“That’s because they are. And you don’t need to test those pearls,” Mike murmured. “They’re real.”

She arched her eyebrows. “And when didyoubecome an expert in jewelry? How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve seen them before.”

She smirked. “I don’t think your uncle would’ve worn these when he visited for the holidays. That might really have freaked your dad out.”

“He didn’t. They were my grandmother’s.” Then he noted the knowing smiles of the four men sitting with him. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

“When did you last see these?” Jim asked.

“When I was little. Grandma told me how to test them. Then she caught me in her room, trying to bite one.” He held up the little leather box. “So what doyouknowabout them?”

Anthony smiled. “They were Nancy’s, all right.”

Mike gaped. That had been her name. She’d died nearly five years ago. “And how didyouknow her?”

“She used to come here to watch the shows,” Jim explained.

“Grandma was intodrag?”

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