Page 191 of Share with Me

Brinley bristled. “I don’t want to hear that said of him.”

“You still have feelings for him.” Matt lifted a music sheet. “Some of these are originals from the 1700s and should be in museums. Stacked up in a box is a bad place for them to be.”

“They need to be in a temperature-controlled room.”

“Exactly. I don’t have that here. But if you want the entire collection I’ll give you a thirty percent discount.”

“Is that his price or your retail after your markup?”

Matt looked offended. “It’s not off the markup price. I want his collection to go to a good home.”

“Someday he’ll want all these back.”

“Right.”

“I’ll take it if you throw in a thirty percent discount on a certain plantation desk I saw downstairs.”

Brinley thought Matt was giving her some sort of “you’re crazy” look. She held her ground. “Thirty percent off both and I’ll take them off your hands.”

“I can’t operate this shop at that big a discount.”

“Yes, you can, Matt, because my mother and I are here. We shop.”

That gave Matt something to think about. “Well… I might be able to do ten percent.”

“Ten? That’s measly, Matt. My mother could buy your entire store.”

“Well…”

“Tell you what, Matt. Twenty-five percent across the board for both Mom and me, and we have a deal.”

“But I’ve got to stay in business.”

“Want to bet that my mom will ask to see what else you have in your warehouse? Tell me you have a warehouse somewhere.”

“Got one in Brunswick.”

“There you go, Matt. Do we have a deal?”

Matt sighed. “You’re quite a bargain hunter.”

“Would you be so kind as to help me take that box downstairs? I have to watch my many steps.”

As they went downstairs, Brinley took the opportunity to ask about Ivan.

“Still at his sister’s house. Said he’s subbing for his sister in her piano studio.”

“Good to know he’s doing something.”

“Not much he can do, really. No healthcare, no insurance, no therapy.”

Brinley stopped in her tracks. “Seriously?”

“I told him he’d have to find a way to get into therapy for that wrist or it’s going to lock up for good. He’ll never play violin again.”

“You can’t make him do it. We can only pray that God will reach him.”

“Yep. He’s a stubborn fool as far as I’m concerned. I’ve known him a very long time, but I’ve never seen him fall this low. I offered him a job next door, he took it, but when his grandma died, he upped and left town. I had to scramble to find someone else.”

---