Page 4 of Signed, Sealed, and Smitten
“I value ‘not murdery’ over everything, even closet space,” I answer, rounding to the back of the truck. “Ready to do this?”
He answers with an exaggerated stretch of his lower back and a wince.
“You okay, old man?” I ask as I slide up the rolling door.
“Shut up, Phoebe,” Daniel says without any heat. “Youlaugh now, but you’ll be my age in two years, and it won’t be so funny anymore.”
I fake a serious expression. “Sorry for the lack of respect to my elders. Keep giving me your wisdom on aging.”
“Brat.” He lets down the ramp. “You’re so smug because you’re in your twenties, but thirty comes for us all.”
“Not until August. I’m going to revel in my last two months of being a youth.”
“Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,” he mutters.
“I just said I would.” I hop straight to the deck of the truck. “I’m going to carpe the heck out of the diem for the next two months before I’m also stricken with old age.”
“You think you’ll have time?” he asks as he unstraps the dolly.
“I don’t know, to be honest. Getting the museum open is my priority.” Along with redemption and revenge in the form of succeeding where too many people expect me to fail. “Even if I found free time, I don’t know anyone in Serendipity Springs to carpe any diems with.”
“Try me,” a female voice says behind us.
Daniel and I turn to see a tall woman about my age coming up the sidewalk. She waves, and we wave back.
“You must be the new tenant,” she says. “I’m Scarlett. I know your last name is Hopper because it’s been on your mailbox since Wednesday.”
“Phoebe Hopper,” I offer, “and this is my elderly brother, Daniel.” Daniel rolls his eyes. “He’s helping me move in.”
“I’ll help too,” she says.
Daniel raises his eyebrows. “Friendly. That’s a nice change.”
“Boston isn’t unfriendly,” I say, feeling defensive. “Daniel flew in from Tampa, and he’s not an East Coast guy. He’s never understood my love for Boston.”
“What brings you to Serendipity Springs?” Scarlett asks.
“I was hired as the new director of the city museum.”
Her forehead wrinkles. “We have a museum? I love history, and I swear I would have noticed a museum.”
Daniel can’t hide his pride when he says, “You don’t yet, but you will when Phoebe is done. Some dead guy poached her from the Sutton Museum in Boston.”
“Rude, Daniel,” I say.
“What?” he asks. “It’s not rude to say someone is dead. They’re dead. They don’t care.”
“What my brother means to say,” I tell Scarlett, “is that Foster Martin left his home and grounds to become a museum after his passing. I’ve been hired to make it happen.”
“That’s so cool,” Scarlett says. “I had no idea we’re getting our own museum. Welcome! You’ll love The Serendipity. This building has a lot of character. Perfect for a museum boss. Now, what can I help you bring up?”
Daniel and I each grab a box from the truck and follow Scarlett as she leads the way to the elevator, and she peppers me with a mixture of facts about the building and questions as we rise.
“We were wondering who would end up with that place,” she says when we step into the third-floor hallway. “It’s been empty for almost two years, and I tried to rent it, but someone was paying for the lease and keeping it vacant, so I’m in the basement instead. A new owner bought The Serendipity this spring, but a condition of the sale was that he couldn’t lease that unit, so I still couldn’t get it. I don’t know the details, but I’ve been dying of curiosity since your name went up on the mailbox.”
“Sorry I kept you out of it. I didn’t even know about it until a couple months ago.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’ve made the basement my jam. I wouldn’t want to trade now.”
