Page 12 of Moonshine and Magnolias
A fresh ache grew in her chest and sobs built in her throat. If she gave in tothem, she’d never recover, and her aunt or the Upshaws or her cousin would find a quivering, blubbering, useless lump of Wendy on the hallway floor.
The thought of Dr. Upshaw finding her that way, vulnerable and with her soul bared, had her shoving the pain into the recesses of her mind. She wouldn’t be able to handle the compassion she knew would show on his face. She’d deal with the feelings later. Much later. Like when she was back in Atlanta. If then.
The suppression should have been second nature to her by now, but her emotions fought to be recognized. It was her own fault for letting them take hold for too long. She held still, waging a silent battle until she shoved the melancholia away.
Okay. Focus. She needed a ladder. Since Brandi was on her way here, she could bring it with her. Wendy sent another text to her cousin. Lightbulbs were in the office closet. Enough light shone in through the windows, so navigation wasn’t a problem. She zigged her way through the filing cabinets and storage boxes to the supply closet.
She didn’t look at the desk.
Once the bulb had been located and she was back in the hallway, she was about to send a message to her cousin that she’d go to the basement herself when Brandi arrived, lugging the ladder with her. “I was on my way here and your text made me turn around. So don’t blame me if I’m late.”
“Thank you.” Wendy took it from her and slid it through the office door. “I’ll put it away when I’m done. Do you want to go over the vendor lists now?”
“Now’s fine. Why are we in the dark?”
Wendy waved the lightbulb. “Where’s your computer?”
“In my room. Do I need it?”
Wendy bit the inside of her cheek as a less extreme option than pulling out her own hair. “We have a shared drive where all the pertinent files are located. I need to show you how to get there.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Wendy bit a little harder and stopped her fingers from grasping her ponytail.
“If I’m going upstairs, I’m going to shower before I come down again. I got all dusty in the basement.” She brushed a particle of dirt off her sleeve.
“If I’m not here, look for me in the library or kitchen.” Wendy let out a quick breath, then proceeded to clear a space under the light fixture.
***
The unexpected sight of Wendy’s round ass waving in the air sent searing heat straight to Rob’s gut. Her straight black skirt accentuated the curve and the muscled tone of her legs as she moved boxes on the office floor.
He fished out an antacid from the roll that was his constant companion, ignoring the lead that balled in his stomach. She was a means to an end, no matter how her soft gaze beckoned to him in the peach orchard. She had been so cool and reserved earlier, she probably hadn’t even been aware of her rebellious eyes.
She straightened, then turned and reached for the ladder before she noticed him standing in the doorway. “Dr. Upshaw! What can I do for you?”
“Need any help?”
She shook her head, her long ponytail swaying with the movement. “Isn’t that right sweet of you to ask. I’m sure I can change a lightbulb by myself.”
“I’ll wait until you’re done, then. I have some questions.” He stepped behind the antique walnut desk before she could tell him to go away. It gave him the opportunity to study his surroundings and sneak a glimpse at the papers covering its top. Not that he expected to find a map with arrows pointing to his uncle’s treasure trove.
It didn’t take long for him to realize the beautifully carved chair was real Chippendale, just sitting there like it was something Wendy’s relations had bought at a big box store. Not a replica, like the Queen Anne in his room. He slid onto the wooden seat and ran his hands down the scrolled arms, the details imprinting on his fingers. “This is gorgeous.”
Wendy straightened up from placing the ladder. A strangled noise came from the back of her throat, and she stood very, very still.
“Ms. Marsh?” Maybe he should have asked permission before sitting in thedamn seat. He got up and moved toward her.
“Uh, I’m all right.” She flashed her fake smile, but the heavy echo on her face belied any attempt at complacency. Her shoulder lifted in an awkward half-shrug as she turned away from him. “The desk and chair have been in my family for a long time.” She climbed the ladder and unscrewed the bulb with quick, efficient movements.
“They’re fine pieces of work.” But there was nothing extraordinary about them to cause that reaction. With Wendy’s attention on the ceiling, he forced himself to study the papers lying on the desk’s surface. Nothing more than a list of things to do written in a shaky hand – probably not Wendy’s, since she seemed connected to her phone – and contracts for an upcoming event about winning some flowers or something. The ladder creaked when Wendy descended from her perch, and he covered his snooping by stroking the gleaming wood.
She flipped the switch, and light flooded the space. She spared a look at the empty chair, then turned to Rob. “Now,” she said. “What can I do for you, Dr. Upshaw?”
“Did you happen to find the registry?”
“Not yet.”
