On Sunset Beach (14 page)

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Authors: Mariah Stewart

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“Right now there are thirty-two that I’ve seen, and that doesn’t include the ones that Ellie doesn’t own. Apparently there are others in St. Dennis that I haven’t seen. I know they exist, because Carolina wrote about them in her journals, but she gave away quite a few, and sold a few on her own. We will be trying to track those down.”

“How generous of her to give away her work. Family and friends, I’m assuming?”

“Well, yes, but I also think she didn’t want her husband to know exactly how many works she was producing. He didn’t approve of her painting, thought it was beneath the wife of a bank officer to take money for her little hobby.”

“The bastard.”

“Exactly.”

“So you’re going to be setting up this exhibit in St. Dennis. Preparing for the big reveal, as it were.
Something splashy, well publicized and well attended, and very posh.”

Carly nodded. “Which means I’m going to be spending a great deal of time there. I’m going to need you to be totally in charge here.” She hastily added, “Not that you aren’t.”

“I understand completely. Your energies are going to be focused elsewhere. Not to worry,” he assured her. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t. And I’ll be available twenty-four/seven. Phone, email—”

“Skype. I love Skype.”

Carly laughed. “Anytime. We already have several showings on the schedule, so we’re set for a while. I can come back for the openings of the new exhibits here. Otherwise …”

“Otherwise, I’m in charge.”

“You are in charge, Enrico.”

“So then there are only two things left to discuss.” Enrico sat back in his chair and smiled confidently. “My raise, and whether or not I get to come to your grand opening.”

Chapter 9

I
T
had cost Carly an extra day, but making the trip to Boston had been worth it. It had been several months since she and her managing partner, Helena Ramsey, had had time to sit and talk. Lately, it seemed Carly had done little more than make appearances to confer about upcoming exhibits and discuss staffing issues. She’d advised Helena ahead of time to block off a few hours to go over their projected exhibit schedule for the next six months, and to bring her up-to-date on anything she felt Carly should know, however small or petty it might seem.

Helena did small and petty very well. By the time their meeting ended, Carly knew more than she really wanted to know about their staff and several of their artists, but she did have a better feel for the gallery when she left on Friday night. Where the New York gallery was all Carly, Boston was more like 70 percent Helena and 30 percent Carly, who’d bought into it when she decided to expand her horizons. She’d met Helena on a buying trip three years ago, and they’d hit it off well enough that Carly agreed to provide some financial backing when Helena expressed
an interest in buying some South End gallery space on Harrison Street before the subtle shifting of the Back Bay art scene from Newbury Street had begun. The artists who exhibited at Ramsey-Summit were younger, hipper, more avant-garde than those whose works hung in the New York gallery, which suited Carly just fine. Helena was the one who had the Midas touch when it came to New England’s contemporary artists, and Carly was just as happy to let her run that show.

Satisfied that the Boston gallery was in the very best of hands and would not suffer from Carly’s lack of attention over the next several months—she thought optimistically that perhaps two might be all she’d need in St. Dennis—Carly returned to her parents’ home and carefully finished packing the paintings she’d spent the last three nights wrapping securely. On Sunday morning, she loaded up her car with her belongings and headed south. For a moment or two, she’d questioned whether or not traveling alone on I-95 with a small fortune in artworks had been a smart idea, but her course had already been set. She breathed easier once she’d gone over the Delaware Memorial Bridge. She took Route 213 all the way to Route 50, and from there it was an easy drop to her destination. The thought of driving through all those pretty Eastern Shore towns along the way—Chesapeake City and Chestertown, Centreville and Wye Mills—had given her spirits a lift. As much as she loved the hustle and bustle of New York, she loved the ease of those small towns just as much. There was something soothing about stopping for lunch in a waterfront eatery, like the lovely place on the Chester River where she’d watched sailboats drift past on their way to the Chesapeake
while she ate a fabulous crab salad. This time around, she’d skipped that stop. Best to drive straight through and deliver her cargo of paintings to their destination, which for now, once again, was Ellie’s attic.

She was famished by the time she arrived at Ellie’s house on Bay View Drive, and was disappointed to find no cars in the driveway and no one at home, not even Dune, the little dog Ellie had found on the beach the year before and had adopted. Had Ellie not gotten Carly’s voice mail? Carly sat on the steps of the front porch and dialed Ellie’s cell.

“Hey, where is everyone?” she asked when Ellie answered.

“Gabi has a tennis match,” Ellie replied. “I thought we’d be home by the time you got here, but she won her first match and now we’re sitting through the second.” Ellie lowered her voice. “Right now I’m supposed to be with Cam, finishing up a kitchen for Hal Garrity. His renters are arriving tomorrow, and we still have a few more hours of work to complete. I told Cam I’d be there by two, and it’s past that already and he’s called twice. But I can’t just walk out on Gabi.”

“Where are you?”

“At the courts at Sinclair’s Inn.”

“How ’bout I come over and stay with Gabi and you go on and finish what you have to do.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course I’m sure. But the thing is, I have all the paintings in the back of the car. I’m not so sure I want to leave them there in the inn’s parking lot. Not that I’m looking for trouble, but you never know.”

“There’s a house key taped to the bottom of the
gnome on the back porch. Leave the paintings in the house and come on over. I’ll wait for you.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

“Really? Under the gnome?” Carly muttered as she retrieved the key. “ ’Cause no one would ever think to look there.”

Key in hand, she proceeded to empty the car, carrying the paintings two at a time into the house and up the steps to the third floor, where she stood them against the wall. By the time she was finished, the packages completely lined the attic’s perimeter, and several more were propped up against a trunk that sat near the top of the steps. Carly ran downstairs, pausing only long enough to grab a bottle of chilled water from the refrigerator. Locking the front door behind her, she got back into the SUV and headed for the inn.

Once again, the inn’s parking lot was filled with cars. Carly had to park in the farthest corner, then walked to the end of the lot to look for the tennis courts. Spotted on the other side of a fenced-in playground, the courts were reached by following a path of crushed shells. Ellie was seated on one of a number of folding chairs to the right of the court on which Gabi lobbed the ball back and forth with a girl who appeared several years older. Not wanting to distract Gabi, Carly took the long way around to the seating area.

“Hey, she’s looking really good,” she whispered in Ellie’s ear.

At the sound of Carly’s voice, Dune sprang up from under Ellie’s chair and into Carly’s arms.

“She’s great. Way better than I have ever been.” Ellie turned in her seat and handed the dog’s leash to
Carly. She stood so they could switch places, and when Carly was seated in the chair Ellie had occupied, the dog jumped into her lap. “Can you keep Dune with you? That way I can go right over to the job.”

“Of course. She’s always happy to be with Aunt Carly, aren’t you, Dune?” The little light gray dog’s pink tongue licked Carly’s chin, her tail wagging merrily.

“I’m afraid I don’t know how much longer you’ll be here. This match should be over very soon, and if Gabi wins, she’ll play the winner of the first match, so you might be a while.”

“Not to worry. It’s a beautiful day, and anytime I get to sit in the sun and relax is a good day as far as I’m concerned.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you back at the house.”

Hunched over in an effort to cause as little distraction as possible, Ellie made her way around the court.

“It’s just you and me now, Dune,” Carly whispered. “We’re going to have to cheer on Gabi … oh, that was a nice shot!”

Carly watched as Gabi won her match, then stood and applauded when the girl raised her racket in the air in triumph. Gabi scanned the crowd for her sister and, when she saw Carly in Ellie’s place, made a beeline for the sidelines.

“Hey, you got here.” Gabi greeted Carly with a hug.

“Just in time to see you take the match. Good job, kiddo.”

“Thanks.” Gabi looked around. “Did Ellie leave?”

“She stayed as long as she could, but Cam needed her on a job. Actually, she just left a few minutes ago.”

“I told her it was okay if she had to leave. I know they need to have that job done today.” Gabi grinned and scooped up the dog from Carly’s lap. “She didn’t have to rope you into staying with me. I could walk home when it’s over.”

“No roping was necessary. I enjoyed watching you play.”

“Seriously? You don’t mind sitting here alone?”

“Who’s alone? I’ve got Dune.” At the sound of her name, the dog’s bottom wagged furiously.

“If you’re sure you don’t mind …”

“I’m happy to be here. Really.”

“Great.” Gabi glanced over her shoulder at the court. “I guess I’m up in a few minutes.” She took a long drink from the bottle, finished it, and looked around unsuccessfully for a recycling container. “See you when it’s over.”

“Good luck.” Carly put out her hand for the empty bottle.

“I’ll need it.” Gabi handed over the bottle with a thanks, and added, “This girl is freakin’
good
.”

“So are you.”

Gabi went off toward the court, and Carly leaned back in her chair, her face held up to the sun. When the match began, she leaned forward slightly to watch. It was clear that Gabi was overmatched by her opponent, who was older and stronger, but she made a good effort, which was exactly what Carly told her when the match ended.

“I did okay,” Gabi admitted, “but she’s the best right now, so I didn’t expect to beat her. I just didn’t want to look lame playing against her.”

Before Carly could assure her that she’d looked
anything but lame, Gabi’s eyes lit up and she waved to someone behind Carly.

“My friend Diana is here. Can I go talk to her for a minute?”

“Sure, but …”

“I’ll be right back.” Gabi grabbed Dune’s leash and took off.

Abandoned and now alone in the spectator area, Carly stood to stretch her legs. She drank from the water bottle she’d brought with her, then tucked it back into her bag. While she waited for Gabi to return, she checked email on her phone and was about to respond to one when a shadow crossed over her. She looked up into gray eyes she’d seen once before, and hadn’t forgotten.

“Hi,” he said. “I thought that was you.”

“Oh, hi.” She couldn’t help but smile. “Were you here for the match?”

“No. Just out and about, and I saw you, thought I’d stop and say hello.” He nodded to the court. “You play or just spectating today?”

“Spectating. My friend’s sister had a few matches and my friend couldn’t stay, so I offered to.” She noticed his wet shorts and partially wet T-shirt. “Out and about in the Bay?”

He glanced down at his wet clothing. “Just a little kayaking excursion with my nephew.”

“Did you tip over?”

He laughed. “No. We took a break and stopped at a beach so he could rest for a few minutes.”

“So that
he
could rest?” she teased.

“Hey, I can paddle from here to Smith Island and not get winded.”

“I guess that would impress me more if I knew where Smith Island was.”

“Ah, you’re not from around here, are you.” It wasn’t really a question.

“No, but I do enjoy my visits.”

“Come here often?”

“Not as often as I’d like.”

“Are you staying here at the inn?”

“No, I’m staying with my friend. She and her fiancé live in town.”

“You on vacation? How long are you here for?”

“I’m not really sure.” She should probably introduce herself.
After all, I know who he is
, she thought,
and I should let him know why I’m here
. “I was asked to—”

An out-of-breath Gabi, Dune by her side, seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Can we go now?” She seemed surprised when she realized that Carly was engaged in conversation. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know—”

“Apology accepted. Now, where’s the fire?” Carly asked.

“Paige just called me. Her dad got a van full of rescued dogs from someplace and Paige has to walk them and she said I could help. But they’re already unloading the van …”

“Okay, got it,” Carly said. She turned to Ford and explained. “Gabi’s friend’s dad is the town vet, and runs a shelter for rescued dogs.”

“Nice,” was all he said.

“Well, it was good to see you again. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime.”

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