Page 42 of Threads of Kindness
“We made it through the salad course easily enough, but things got testy during the entrée. By the time they handed out dessert menus, the discussion had become heated. A shouting match turned into a shoving match over coffee, and the restaurant finally asked us to leave.”
“Good heavens,” Anita said. “Aren’t these heirs wealthy in their own right? What in the world are they doing fighting over chairs and carpets?”
“I’ve seen this happen many times before,” Gordon said. “It doesn’t matter how much people have—they want more. I love my job because I get to handle some of the most beautiful things in the world, but the downside is that I’m forced to interact with greedy people in high-stress situations.”
“I’m so sorry to hear this,” she said. “When will you finish out there?”
“We decided—in the parking lot after the restaurant ejected us, no less—to meet for breakfast tomorrow morning. If they reprise last night’s scene, I’m packing up and heading back to Manhattan.”
“I’ll be thinking about you the whole time,” Anita said. “Please let me know how it goes, one way or the other.”
“I will,” Gordon replied. “Anyway, that’s not why I called. Tell me your good news.”
She gave him theReader’s Digestversion. “The details can wait until you’re back home and have had a good night’s sleep. The only thing I’d like to know from you now is if you would like to come to my party where we open the mystery crates?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I want to come,” Gordon said. “I don’t want you to open those without me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said. “What does your schedule look like?”
“I’m tied up for the next couple of weeks,” Gordon said. “Even if I return to my office tomorrow, it’ll take another three or four days to complete the appraisal documents. After that, I’m accompanying a client to an auction at Sotheby’s in London for a few days.”
“Gosh, Gordon,” Anita gasped. “You lead such a glamorous life.”
Gordon chuckled. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen me getting thrown out of that fancy restaurant tonight.”
“Now that you mention it, I would like to have seen that,” she teased. “I’ll make sure my party is after you get back from London. I’ll text you several dates to choose from.”
“That’s very nice,” Gordon said, stifling a yawn.
“And now,” she said gently, “I’ve taken enough of your time. I can hear how tired you are. I don’t want to impose any further.”
“Talking to you about the frustrations of my day has helped me,” he said. “If I hadn’t spoken to you, I would’ve been ruminating about them until the wee hours. Now that we’ve talked, I can set them aside and go to sleep peacefully. You’re like a tonic for my soul.”
Her knees went weak, and she sank onto the side of her bed. “I’m happy to be your sounding board any time,” Anita said softly. “You’ll be in my thoughts tomorrow. Sweet dreams,” she said.
CHAPTER 22
Sunday hovered at the edge of Lyla’s desk. Her friend, hunched over her keyboard, hammered numbers into a spreadsheet. Sunday cleared her throat, and Lyla finally looked up.
“You’re focused on what you’re doing,” Sunday said. “I’m sorry to disturb you.”
Lyla pushed herself into the back of her chair. “Year-end reports,” she said. “I’ll be at these for weeks. What’s up?”
“I wanted to let you know I’m leaving early today,” Sunday said.
“Wedding plans?” Lyla asked.
“Absolutely,” Sunday replied. “I’m headed to Celebrations to order our invitations.”
“You’re sticking with the chapel?”
Sunday nodded. “Josh and I went there at lunchtime. It’s going to be perfect.”
“I’m glad,” Lyla said. “I think so too. Did you order your dress?”
“Yes,” Sunday said. “I received an email saying it has shipped. I can’t wait for it to arrive, so I can get it to Anita for alterations.”
“Since you’ll be close to Archer’s Bridal this afternoon, I suggest you stop in to see Anita,” Lyla said. “Show her a photo of the dress. One look and I bet she’ll be able to tell how straightforward it will be to adjust.”
