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Hidden Secrets Page 3
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“Wow, it’s good to see you. It’s been too long.”
She hugged him back then planted a quick kiss on his scratchy cheek. He smelled good and tasted like salt air. Maybe he’d been down to the beach for a stroll earlier.
“A couple of months, at least.”
“I should have come for Thanksgiving, but I let Blaze talk me into going to her parents’ place instead. Big mistake.”
“Oh?” When he released her, Paige backed up a step and studied him.
His dark blond hair was cut shorter on the sides than when she’d last seen him. Trendy but neat. Kind of like the man himself. He wore jeans and an aqua-blue, button-down shirt, the same color as his eyes. While Quentin wasn’t movie star handsome in the traditional sense, he oozed charisma. When he smiled, Paige was pretty certain every woman in the vicinity experienced heart palpitations.
Best friend or not, she was no exception.
But today, his eyes were shadowed, and fine lines radiated from the corners. Had he held her a little longer than normal? In general, Quentin liked his personal space.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. I just have a lot on my plate with this new restaurant. Then there’s Blaze . . .”
“I thought you broke up with her.”
“I did the second we returned from our trip, but try telling her that. I hope hanging out here for a while will reinforce the message that we’re through.” He held up his hand. “And before you say it, yeah, you told me so.”
She patted his arm. “I don’t want to be right about these things, but sometimes I think I know what you need better than you do.”
“Next time I’ll ask your permission before dating anyone.” Fisting his hands on his hips, he peered into the van. “Wow, that’s quite a haul.”
“I was on a roll today. Want to help me carry it inside?”
“Sure. I knew you’d find a way for me to earn my keep.”
“Manual labor and cooking should do it. Take the other end of this cedar chest. The damn thing weighs a ton.”
“Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Hey, I’ve been working out.” She hefted her end as he maneuvered it through the door.
By the time they finished moving everything into the shop, exhaustion wore on her.
“Looks like that’s it.” Quentin slammed the rear doors. “I’d better hustle upstairs to finish our dinner.”
“The smell has been taunting me.” She hit the remote to lock her van and followed him inside. “What’s cooking?”
“Roasted red pepper and tomato bisque. I’ll throw together some grilled mozzarella and prosciutto sandwiches to go with it.”
Paige groaned. “Your gourmet twist on tomato soup with grilled cheese. Have I ever told you I love you?”
“You’re very free with your affection when I feed you.” He slid an arm around her waist as they maneuvered through the storage room behind the shop toward the stairs. “The rest of the time, you give me grief.”
“I only hassle the people I care about, so you can consider yourself lucky.” She smiled. “Seriously, though, thanks for helping me unload. I’m beat. Did Mindy lock up?”
“She closed the shop a few minutes before you arrived. You bought a lot of inventory today.”
“That load was only half of it. I had an appointment earlier today, too.” She entered her apartment and dropped her computer bag and purse on the entry floor. “Not to mention, I have a third meeting with a potential source scheduled for tomorrow. That’s it for this month, thank heavens. I’m not usually so busy, but I’m stocking up for Christmas sales. I put a good-sized dent in my inventory over Thanksgiving weekend.”
Quentin headed into the kitchen to stir the fragrant soup simmering on the stove. “Will having me crash here be an inconvenience?”
“Not in the least.” She slid onto one of the bar stools at the counter and planted her elbows on the tile surface. “Do you want me to do anything?”
“Just keep me company while I cook. I bought wine. Do you want a glass?”
“God, yes. Haggling with Miss Lola is exhausting. Even after we agreed on a price, she kept badgering me for a better deal.”
He smiled as he pulled a loaf of Italian bread and a bottle of merlot out of the pantry. “I hope this morning’s client wasn’t such a hard ass.”
“No, he was a sweetie. Very reasonable, but his grandson was a jerk, insinuating I wasn’t fair to the old guy. I don’t take advantage of elderly clients. Or any client, for that matter. My reputation for square dealing matters to me.”
After deftly removing the cork from the bottle, he poured a glass and handed it to her. “Everyone in Siren Cove knows you’re honest. I trust you implicitly.”
While he poured his own wine, she held up her glass. “To friends you can count on.”
He grimaced. “It sure beats the hell out of love.”
She took a gulp of her merlot, then ran her finger around the crystal rim. “Neither one of us has had much luck in that department.”
“The single men around here must be idiots. You’re smart and beautiful. I can’t believe no one’s snapped you up yet.”
“True.” She eyed him steadily. “Maybe one day they’ll wise up.”
Chapter Three
Quentin stood in the middle of the main dining room of the Poseidon Grill and surveyed his new kingdom. The place had spectacular ocean views, but the bar seating needed to be expanded. “If we take out that far wall into the room at the back, we’ll have more usable space, and we can still use the upstairs area for private parties.”
Jerry Favor, the local contractor, made a note. “Anything else in this section?”
“With the wall gone, I’d like to extend the bar to circle around.” Picking up the pad of paper he’d laid on the shiny teak surface, he sketched rapidly. “Something like this is what I have in mind.”
“That’s doable.” The heavyset man took the sheet from him and tucked it into a folder. “What changes need to be made in the kitchen?”
Quentin headed toward the opposite side of the dining area. “I’d like the wall separating the server station from our guests at full height. We aren’t running a diner, for Christ’s sake.” He kept walking past the line grill and the prep area to the storage room in the very back. “I want shelving added to the south wall. Also, the entire kitchen floor needs to be replaced since this linoleum is a hell of a lot older than I am. I want something seamless and durable.”
Jerry scratched more notes. “Got it.”
“I also want the carpeting removed from the stairs. We’ll clad those in wood.” Leaving the kitchen, Quentin returned to the dining room. “The whole interior has to be repainted, but there really isn’t as much structural work as I expected. The place is solid. Oh, I’m going to need new fixtures in the public restrooms. I want granite countertops and above counter brass sinks to class up the place.”
The contractor nodded. “I’ll take some measurements before I leave. Bids on painting and new pavement in the parking lot shouldn’t take long to get. I’ll have an estimate ready for you in about three days.”
“Sounds good.” He shook the man’s hand. “Take your time with those measurements. I have a few calls to make before I need to lock up.”
“It won’t take long.”
After checking in with the managers at his other restaurants and settling a few minor problems, Quentin called Paige and smiled when she picked up on the first ring. “It’s a little early, but do you want to go get some lunch?”
“Can’t. I’m on my way back to the shop now with a couple of big pieces of furniture I picked up this morning, then I’m heading south to meet a client.”
“Do you need help moving the furniture?”
“I borrowed Nina’s open trailer along with her husband and a couple of his buddies from the fire station to do the heavy lifting.”
“Oh.” Quentin wasn’t sure why he felt so put out that she hadn’t as
ked him.
“Unless you’re bored and want to drive down the coast with me. My appointment is about fifty miles from here.”
“I’m never bored, but that sounds like fun. We can stop for sandwiches on the way.”
“If you’re still at the restaurant, I’ll swing by to pick you up in about twenty minutes. Okay?”
“I’ll be waiting.” He disconnected and stuck his phone in his pocket. He had plenty of chores he could be doing, but hanging out with Paige would be a hell of a lot more fun than ordering dishes and linens for the restaurant. He did need to get an ad into the local paper for staff right away, but work on a website for the Poseidon Grill could wait one more day.
He’d made the call to the paper, let the contractor out, and locked the place up when Paige’s van pulled into the parking lot. After opening the passenger door, he set his laptop case behind the seat and climbed in.
“At least the rain stopped. Cloudy beats a downpour.”
“No kidding.” Paige bumped through the potholes in the pavement and turned out onto the main road. “Yesterday morning was miserable.”
He studied her profile as she leaned back in the seat and drove with confidence, the way Paige did everything. Despite her petite size—which he knew annoyed the hell out of her since people tended to associate little, cute, and blond with brainless—she was an intimidating force. When Paige wanted something, she didn’t back down. Ever. As she smiled, intelligence shone in her eyes beneath upswept hair a few shades lighter than his own. She’d fastened her curls in some kind of fancy knot at the top of her head.
“Did you get the rest of your furniture moved into the shop?”
“You bet. While he was helping me, Teague mentioned something I hadn’t heard about yet. They’re having a bachelor auction at the Winter Ball in a couple of weeks.”
Quentin grinned. “Is Teague wishing he hadn’t jumped the gun and eloped with Nina?”
“Not in this lifetime. No, he was teasing his buddy, Mateo. Leah is on the organizing committee for the ball, and she badgered him into agreeing to be auctioned off. My guess is she’ll be after you next.”
“What?” He sat up straighter in his seat. “I don’t want to be auctioned like a damn piece of meat. I did that once in Seattle, and this blue-haired old lady bought me. I spent our evening together fending off her advances.”
Paige burst out laughing. “That’s hilarious. I could actually see Leah’s grandma getting a little frisky with a hot young guy.”
“Evie? That woman is irrepressible.”
“Lucky for you she has a live-in gentleman friend now, so you’re probably safe.”
He pointed out to sea where a whale breeched the surface. “Did you see that? God, I miss this area.” Turning back to Paige, he shook his head. “I’ll be plenty safe since I don’t intend to let myself be coerced into volunteering.”
“It’s for charity. They’re raising money for the local shelter to help battered women and children get back on their feet. How can you turn down such a worthy cause? I bet the ladies would pay top dollar for a date with a famous chef and restaurant mogul.”
“Funny. I’m hardly in the same category as Gordon Ramsay or Bobby Flay.”
“No, you’re younger and better looking.”
“True.” Quentin couldn’t hold back a grin. “Fine, I’ll think about it.”
“Great. I’ll let Leah take it from here now that I’ve laid the groundwork.”
“Tag team coercion?”
Paige took her attention off the road long enough to give him a contemplative look. “Whatever works. It’s not like Siren Cove is overflowing with handsome, single men. If that were the case, I would have done my best to take one of them off the market by now.”
“Instead, you’ve had to search further afield. Are you going to tell me what happened between you and Ryan’s rock climbing friend?”
“Long distance dating wasn’t working.” Her tone was abrupt.
For some reason, Quentin felt like he was getting the airbrushed version of the truth. Still, it was clear he shouldn’t push. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, so am I. Tom is a good guy.”
“Should I go beat him up for you?”
Her lips relaxed into a smile. “You sound like you’re ten. Anyway, he scales cliffs for fun. That takes some serious upper body strength. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
He snorted. “I’m a master at taekwondo. I expect I could hold my own.”
“Okay, then. No, I don’t need you to beat up anyone. I can take care of myself.”
“Good to know.”
After a moment of silence, she asked, “So, you ditched the model, huh? Any reason in particular? I saw a few photos of her. The woman is stunning.”
“We had nothing in common outside of... never mind. I wasn’t comfortable talking to her the way I am with you. If I have to work at having a conversation, something is seriously wrong.”
“I’d have to agree. But then, I’m pretty sure stellar conversationalist isn’t your primary requirement for dating. You still think with . . . well, never mind.”
He winced. “You make me sound like a complete douchebag.”
“You’ll be thirty-two in a couple of months. Professionally, you’re extremely successful. Have you thought about settling down, getting married, having kids?”
“On occasion, but I’m in no rush. I enjoy my freedom.”
“So, not a douchebag. Just a guy who doesn’t want to grow up. As long as the women you date know that.”
“I’ve always been pretty clear about my intentions . . . or lack thereof. Is it my fault if an occasional lady refuses to believe me?”
“Blaze?” she asked.
“Yeah. I thought we were on the same page, and I really liked hanging out with her. Then she started to get demanding and clingy and . . . well . . .”
“You called it quits rather than relinquish your hard-fought freedom.” Paige’s voice was flat.
“I certainly didn’t want to hurt her.” He slumped further down in the seat. “Blaze phoned again this morning, but I let the call go to voice mail. I don’t know how I can be much clearer.”
“Sometimes women and men are slow to accept what they don’t want to hear. Maybe she just needs more time.”
“I hope so. Meanwhile, let’s talk about something else. The subject of my love life is fairly depressing at the moment.”
“You mentioned getting lunch when you called me.”
“Food.” He straightened. “Now that’s a topic close to my heart. Do we have time to stop before your appointment?”
“If we get takeout. There’s a little hole-in-the-wall place a couple of miles from here that has excellent fish and chips.”
“Sounds good. I need to fortify myself to watch you haggle over old, scarred furniture.”
“You could probably learn a thing or two from me when it comes to the art of negotiation. Maybe take a few notes.”
“This is why I love you, Paige. You don’t get bent out of shape when I give you crap. You just fling it right back.”
“Like a monkey in a zoo. Charming image.”
“You’d make an adorable monkey.” Narrowing his eyes, he pointed. “Hey, there’s the fish joint. I’ll admit I’m suspicious of a place with a flashing neon sign that says eats.”
“I promise it’s excellent. You’ll thank me for this.”
He smiled as she flipped on her blinker and turned off the highway. “I always do.”
Thirty minutes later, Quentin was finishing up the last of the chips when they pulled up in front of an older house on a tree-lined street. Bicycles and red wagons cluttered driveways in neighboring homes, and yards were well maintained. The house in front of them seemed to be the exception, with shuttered windows, half-dead shrubs, and a dumpster squatting at the edge of the street. Other than a new SUV with dealer plates in the driveway, the place showed no signs of life.
Energized by the outstanding meal,
he climbed out and joined Paige at the front of the van. “If it wasn’t for the car in the driveway, I’d think the place was vacant.”
“The owner recently moved to an assisted living facility. I’m meeting her daughter and son-in-law. They want to clear out the house and sell it.”
“From the looks of the neighborhood, it seems like a popular area with young families.”
“One of the old sawmills outside of town reopened, which brought in a lot of new jobs.” She opened the screen and knocked sharply.
A bolt slid back, and the door squeaked open. A middle-aged woman with faded brown hair gave them a hesitant smile. “Are you the owner of the antique store?”
Paige held out her hand. “Paige Shephard, and this is my friend, Quentin Radcliff. I figured we might need some muscle to move any heavy furniture.”
She shook Paige’s hand and then the one Quentin extended. “I’m Didi Goodman. My husband is here, too, so I’m sure we’ll be able to manage without throwing out our backs.”
“A big plus. Thanks for contacting me. I’m always happy to acquire new inventory for my store, though I’m sorry your mother has to leave her home.”
“She’s having memory issues. Early onset dementia.” Didi let out a sigh. “Disposing of years of accumulation is a big job, and I just want to get it done. This way to the living room. We can start there.”
Quentin stayed out of the way as the two women went straight to a wall of shelves filled with bowls and vases. When footsteps sounded behind him, he turned to glance over his shoulder.
A tall, thin man with a high forehead and horn-rimmed glasses hurried down the hallway from the rear of the house. He held out his hand. “I’m Lucas Goodman.”
“Quentin Radcliff.” He shook the offered hand. “I’m just along for the ride and to help move furniture.”
Lucas nodded toward the women. “They don’t seem to need any assistance at the moment. I was out back, cleaning miscellaneous crap out of the shed.”
“I’m happy to lend a hand since I don’t have anything else to occupy my time.”
“Sounds good.” He raised his voice. “Honey, Quentin and I will be in the backyard clearing out your dad’s junk if you want us.”