Surprise and a fleeting delight lit Gail's face. An instant later her pleasure was marred by what seemed to be uncertainty. She hesitated and then seemed to brace herself.
"How much do I owe you for the crayons and the paper?" she asked.
"The Children's Art Show has been underwritten by the Bright Visions gallery, which is sponsoring it," Octavia said. "All the entrants receive the same basic supplies."
"Oh, I see." Gail relaxed visibly. "Thank Miss Brightwell for the crayons and paper, Anne."
"Thank you," Anne repeated in the barest of whispers.
"You're welcome," Octavia said. "I'll look forward to seeing your picture."
Anne tightened her grip on the art supplies and said nothing. She still looked as if she expected the crayons and paper to vaporize in her arms.
At that moment, a familiar silver BMW pulled into the small parking lot at the end of the row of shops. Octavia's stomach fluttered. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was almost five-thirty. Nick was right on time.
Gail gave Octavia a grateful smile. "I don't know if Anne will actually do a picture for your art show, but she loves to draw and paint. She will definitely use the supplies."
"Excellent," Octavia said. She looked at Anne. "But I really hope you'll make a special drawing for the show. If you do, you can choose the color of the frame."
"You're gonna put it in a frame?" she asked in astonishment.
"Of course."
"So it will look like a real picture?" Anne pointed toward the framed paintings hanging inside the gallery. "Like one of those?"
"Yes," Octavia said. "It will look like a real picture because it will be a real picture. Just like one of those inside my gallery."
Anne was clearly dazzled by the prospect.
"Come along, Anne," Gail said. "We have to stop at the store and then we have to go home to help Grandma fix dinner."
"Okay."
Anne and Gail moved off toward the small parking lot. Nick was out of his car now, walking toward the gallery. He wore a long-sleeved, crew neck tee shirt and a pair of jeans. The snug fit of the shirt emphasized the contours of his strong shoulders and flat belly.
He paused to greet Gail and Anne with a friendly nod and a few words. When the short conversation was finished, Gail and her daughter got into an aging Chevrolet.
Nick continued toward the gallery.
Edith came to stand on the sidewalk next to Octavia.
"Such a sad situation." Edith shook her head and made a tut-tut sound when Gail and Anne drove past them down the street.
Octavia waved at Anne, who gazed fixedly at her through the car window. Hesitantly the girl raised a small hand in response.
"I assume you're talking about Gail and Anne?" Octavia said, watching Nick.
"Yes. Gail is the daughter of Elmore and Betty Johnson, the folks who run Johnson's Nursery and Garden Supply. She was such a pretty girl back in high school. Bright, too. Went off to college in Seattle." She paused and smiled at Nick when he came to a halt in front of her.
"Afternoon, Mrs. Seaton. Nice day."
"It is, indeed. I was just telling Octavia how Gail went off to college in Seattle and ended up married to that investor fellow who left her a couple of years ago and ran off with the decorator who redid his office."
"I'm afraid I didn't keep up with the gossip at the time," Nick said in a repressive tone that was clearly meant to change the subject. "I had my hands full in Portland."
"Gail got almost nothing out of the divorce, they say," Edith continued, oblivious to the unsubtle hint. "Word is her husband stashed all his assets on one of those little islands in the Caribbean, declared bankruptcy, and left the state. Never sees his daughter, of course."
"Poor little Anne," Octavia said.
"Ready to go?" Nick said pointedly to Octavia.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw that her potential clients were still contemplating a purchase. "In a few minutes."
"Gail lost her job in Seattle a couple of months ago and now she's back here in Eclipse Bay. She's living with her folks while she looks for work. Money is tight."
"She's job hunting?" Octavia looked down the street. Gail's Chevy had disappeared around a corner. "Is that why she was in your shop?"
"Yes. Unfortunately, I had to tell her that I just don't do enough business to warrant hiring an assistant. I gather she's tried several other places with no luck."
"Hmm," Octavia said.
Chapter 5
The middle-aged couple left a short time later with their newly acquired seascape wrapped in brown paper.
Octavia set the security alarm, locked the door of the gallery, and dropped her keys into the spacious bag that hung from her right shoulder.
Nick gave her an enigmatic smile and put on his sunglasses.
She would have given a lot to be able to read his mind at that moment, she thought. Then again, maybe it was better not to know what he was thinking. The knowledge would only have made her more tense. She was still wondering if this burst of recklessness was going to prove to be a disaster.
They walked together toward the parking lot. When they reached the BMW, he opened the door on the passenger side and held it for her. She searched his face quickly, looking for any concealed signs of triumph. She saw none. If anything, she thought, he seemed as wary as she felt.
Now that was an interesting development.
She collected the folds of her skirt in one hand and slipped into the front seat. "What did you do with Carson?"
"He's spending the evening with Rafe and Hannah out at Dreamscape," Nick said.
"Oh." She realized she had become accustomed to seeing Nick and Carson together during the past two weeks. "Will he be joining us for dinner later?" He smiled. "This is my date, not Carson's." He closed the car door very deliberately. She watched him walk around the front of the vehicle. He moved with an easy, fluid grace that was at once relaxed and purposeful. Probably the way most top-of-the-food-chain predators moved when they were going out to grab a gazelle for dinner, she thought. Fascinating, exciting. More than a little dangerous.
The sense of deep, sensual appreciation that swept through her caught her by surprise. She was still slightly awed by her decision to go out with him. Until tonight, the only big risks she had ever taken in life had involved the buying and selling of art. She trusted her intuition when it came to taking chances on unknown painters. But she had always been cautious when it came to men.
Nick got behind the wheel and closed the door. The interior of the BMW suddenly felt overwhelmingly intimate. She realized she was holding her breath.
"Couple of things you should know," she said carefully when he made to slip the key into the ignition. "The first is that, in case your grandfather hasn't told you, Claudia Banner was my great-aunt." Dead silence.
Nick did not fire up the engine. Instead, he twisted slightly in the seat and rested his right arm on the back. He watched her very steadily through his dark glasses.
"Want to run that past me again?" he said.
"I'm related to Claudia Banner. The woman who-"
"Trust me, I know who Claudia Banner is."
"Was. My aunt died a year and a half ago."
"I see." Nick waited a beat. "This is for real? Not a joke of some kind?"
"No, it's not a joke." She gripped her bag very tightly in her lap. "Does it change things? Do you want to call off the date?"
"My grandfather knows who you are?"
"Yes. Sullivan and Mitchell both know. They figured it out the night of Lillian's show." She cleared her throat. "Obviously they haven't told anyone else in either family yet."
"Yeah. Obviously." He tapped the key absently against the leather seat back. "Well, hell."