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Inheritance (The Lost Bride Trilogy, #1)(158)

Author:Nora Roberts

“Which I can use to create invitations.”

“I’m seeing Corrine tomorrow. I bet she’d know who should go on the guest list.”

After dishing up the meal, they sat at the kitchen counter, working on the details.

“Late May,” Sonya decided. “Early June. We’d have some green, some blooms. We’ll do some planters. People would be able to use the deck, the gardens.”

“If this shapes up the way it looks like it could, there’s no way our meager talents can handle the food.”

“So, we use every restaurant in the village—spread it out. Something from the Lobster Cage, from the pizzeria, from the hotel kitchen, from the bakery, the China Kitchen, the Village Pub. A little bit from all.”

“Smorgasbord, and excellent community relations. It’s genius. We’d need servers.”

“We tap Bree, Anna’s husband, get some help figuring that part out.”

“We’re beyond shindig, Son. We’re having An Event.”

Thrilled, Sonya bounced in her chair. “Who says we’re boring?”

“Not me.”

They went back to work, both full of ideas and enthusiasm.

Before she settled into it, Sonya texted Trey.

News! Cleo and I are hosting An Event, sometime late May/early June. An open house at the manor, to include invites to friends, relatives, local luminaries, politicos, merchants. Looking for help making up the guest list.

Major undertaking. Sure you’re ready for that? Answer must be yes. I can help, but my mother or Seth are more tuned in for this kind of thing. Fair warning, you won’t see many declines or regrets.

We’ve got weeks to plan it out, so we’ll be ready. Cleo’s seeing your mom tomorrow, and will enlist her. We’re both putting in a little extra work time tonight. How about you?

The same. Mookie thinks I’m boring and misses Yoda. I miss you.

Cleo worries we’re boring. And I miss both of you.

If I can break away tomorrow, why don’t I take you both to dinner? We can try the Tavern at the hotel.

I’ll check with Cleo, but I’d say that’s a yes. A definite yes from me if this includes you staying for breakfast.

Pick you up at seven. Don’t have to leave until maybe eight-thirty the next morning, so we’ll share a bagel. Don’t work too late.

Same to you. But it’s been pretty quiet around here, so I’m taking advantage. See you tomorrow.

He signed off with a heart emoji, which had her deciphering the meaning for the next several minutes.

“Oh, stop. What is this, high school?”

Tabling it, she opened her file on the florist.

* * *

In her studio, Cleo stood poised in front of the canvas. She knew now what her mermaid held cupped in her hands. Not a gem, not a shell. She’d hold a clear glass ball. Inside the ball, another mermaid sat on the rock, looking out at sea, a whale sounding, with a glass ball in her hand.

And in that, yet another.

The trick would start with the scale, the tiny details, then the way the light should strike the glass, and the glass within the glass.

She worked to the music of flutes and strings, a soothing sound as she created the main sphere. She wanted the light from the brilliant sunset to glow over the ball, and in turn the light from the inner ball to illuminate the interior.

A hint of gold, a touch of red, a blush of purple.

She mixed paints, worked in small dabs, minute brushstrokes to slowly build that light.

When her fingers cramped, she set down the brush, stepped back. Flexing her fingers, she studied the result.

Good, she thought. Pretty damn good.

Still flexing her fingers, she stepped out to walk down to the bathroom. She’d go back, take another fresh look. Maybe put in a little more time. Her contracted work was right on schedule, so if she spent another hour or so on the painting, she could sleep in a bit in the morning.

Too bad the world wasn’t geared for night owls, she thought as she relieved her bladder.

Humming to herself, she washed her hands, and glanced in the mirror over the sink.

Hester Dobbs stood behind her.

Throwing up her hands in defense, Cleo whirled. Though the air had chilled, no one stood there. One hand over her pounding heart, she pressed her back to the wall.

“I saw you.” Sonya’s sketch had been on the mark with the wild black hair, the fierce dark eyes, the sharp chin, full mouth. “I saw you.”

Maybe her voice shook, just a little, but she squared her shoulders. “And you can fuck right off.”

Water exploded out of the tub faucet. Eyes wide, she watched the hot water knob on the sink turn, and water pour into the bowl. When she tried to turn it off, she had to snatch her fingers away, as the metal burned.