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A moment later, she reappeared with the crowbar. “Thanks for helping me. Delivery days only come every month or two, but they can be overwhelming with all the unpacking and inventory. I just want to cry—or go home.”
“Which one do you usually choose?” he asked, gazing at her face.
“I cry while I unpack, then go home and sleep for twelve hours.”
“Best way to deal with stress,” Wade said with a lopsided grin to make her laugh.
“Oh!” Marina suddenly said. “I forgot to have you drop me off at Mrs. Sutton’s house to get my car.”
“I’ll take you back to get it, but I’ll help you unpack right now. Looks like you’re re-organizing the store.
“I am, sorry it’s kind of a mess. The place has been closed for several months during the remodel, of course, and I’m trying toget fully operational and back in business. But first, I must get each different section better organized!”
“A Grand Re-Opening Party sounds like a great idea.”
“Granny—my grandmother—gives me a lot of inspiration—” Marina stopped, realizing the present tense verb must make her sound like she was nuts. “I mean, remodeling the store was something we talked about before she died, but never got around to.”
Wade gave her a long, knowing smile. “No, I think the truth is the first part of your sentence. How did she give you inspiration?”
“Oh, well, you know,” Marina said, chewing on her lips, wondering if he’d think she was totally weird. “I, um, visit her at the cemetery, catch her up on stuff—life—the store—and while I’m chattering away like an idiot, my head gets filled up with all these fantastic ideas. I honestly think it’s Granny giving me little drops of thoughts from heaven.”
“I think you’re right,” Wade said matter-of-factly. “I think our families do watch out for us. I’ve felt that with my parents before, too. They always encouraged me to start my own business, and I love real estate and flipping houses. I watched my dad leave the railroad and go back to school to get his MBA in his forties. Then he went into stocks and bonds, traded, loved the Stock Exchange world. My mother loved it because she loves high society life. Dressing up, going to the theater, dinner at all the fancy restaurants. I worried they were turning into snobs though.” He paused for a moment, and Marina knew instinctively he was remembering that his parents had pressured him to break up with Marina when he was headed to the Bay Area to play football.
“How are your parents now?” Marina asked softly.
“They’re good, they’re fine,” Wade said with a quiet smile. “My mother discovered she has a knack for fashion she wasnever able to express during those years they barely managed to squeak out groceries. She ended up partnering up with a woman V.P. from Channel doing fashion shows in New York City. They’re still there, living in Manhattan. That’s the path to my meeting Lydia. She was modeling there for a while, although she’s an original New Orleans native, of course.”
“I remember you telling me about your parents changing their life when we were in college after your father got his MBA and went to work in New York. It’s a fascinating story—to alter your entire career and go for new dreams. To do something you love the best. To find your niche in the world is important.”
Marina’s voice slowed when she realized that Wade had moved closer, catching her eyes with his while she spoke. Those deep brown chocolate eyes seemed to melt into her own.
For a moment, they didn’t speak, and Marina shivered from the top of her head down to her toes. He was still the Wade she had loved for so long. It took all her willpower not to throw herself at him, but she couldn’t. She didn’t. It would be so wrong when he was going to marry that woman, Lydia.
Turning abruptly to hide the sudden tears swimming in her eyes, Marina walked to the counter where a stack of smaller boxes was piled and tore open the cardboard lid.
“See?” she called out, lifting another smaller box and opening the lid to show a pair of screw-on earrings inside. The kind of earrings women wore before they pierced their ears. “Jewelry. I love all this old stuff. It’s so pretty and delicate—and so different and unique from the cheap stuff of today.”
Wade took the crowbar and leveraged it into one of the bigger crates on the floor. With careful hands, he lifted out vases and bowls and Oriental fans, along with small lamps with painted glass stands.
“Those are beautiful,” Marina said, coming closer to inspect them. “Looks like everything is intact after coming across theAtlantic. I always worry about that. Bad for me, but sad for the dealer and the family who originally sold it. I like to find the perfect person who will love and cherish all the beautifully crafted things from the past. It’s a way to honor their lives and the memories of people I’ll never meet.”
Wade nodded, suddenly closer than Marina realized. She glanced up then took a quick step backward lest she throw herself at him.
“I like that. You’re sentimental and kind, Marina. And . . .” he continued quietly. “I’m glad you lost your cell phone in the cemetery.”
Marina didn’t dare look at him. “I’m glad you’re the one who found it,” she whispered. “Such a coincidence,” she added, attempting to be flippant to hide how much she cared about him.
“Hmm. Is it just a coincidence?” he said. “Almost seems like fate. So does the fact that Mrs. Sutton hired both of us independently to work on her home. I gotta say. . . today has been one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.”
Chapter Seventeen
Wade had to work all day Saturday to make up for taking most of Friday off. He’d spent much of the day in his truck delivering supplies to various work sites and thinking about Marina and their day together on Friday.
When he got home that evening, there were at least twenty missed calls and texts from Lydia.
Wade was overwhelmed listening to and reading all the messages so he finally silenced the phone so he could think clearly. It was time to move forward once and for all.
Flopping onto the sofa in the family room, Wade pulled out the prenuptial and read every single page one more time.
