Page 34 of Easton Island

Chapter 15

Ding. The Easton Island Art Gallery’s overhead bell chimed, announcing Morgan and Brett’s arrival.

Quinn stood at the counter, cozily chatting with an attractive thirty-something guy, tall and with dark wavy hair. He casually turned, and Morgan noticed his “GQ-ish” five o’clock shadow—the popular shaven / unshaven look.

“Brett, Morgan.” A look of confusion flitted across Quinn’s face. “What are you doing here?”

“We thought we would bring you lunch, seeing how you had to work.” Brett set the food on the desk and kissed Quinn’s cheek. “I’m sorry you couldn’t make it.”

“H-how did Tristan’s science fair go?” she stammered. “I bet he won.”

“He had some stiff competition but walked away with a ribbon for honorable mention.” Morgan crossed the room and extended her hand. “Hello. I’m Morgan.”

“Where are my manners? Morgan Easton, this is Travis Mason. He recently moved to Easton Harbor from San Diego.”

Morgan found his grip to be warm, firm, and confident. “My pleasure.”

Brett extended his hand. “Brett Easton.”

“Quinn talks about you often. You’re a lucky guy to have such a kind girlfriend, and knowledgeable about art to boot,” Travis said.

“She’s the best.”

Morgan could tell by the way her brother shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels he was sizing the guy up, trying to figure out his angle and gauge how well acquainted he and Quinn were. “So…you’re new to Easton Island. What brought you all the way here from San Diego?”

“I’m originally from the Midwest. Lansing, Michigan, to be exact. I work remotely and happened to see an ad for a condo unit for rent in Easton Harbor. The prices of real estate, not to mention everything else, are sky-high in California. It’s a lot more affordable to live here, so I decided to move. Me being single with nothing to tie me down meant it was a no-brainer.”

“Travis dabbles in ceramic art,” Quinn explained. “He’s looking for a local supplier. I’ve been helping him connect with others in the industry.”

“You’re renting a condo?” Brett asked.

“For now, with the option to purchase it. I figured it would be a good way to explore the island and decide if this is where I want to permanently land.”

“Always a wise decision,” Morgan said. “Quinn and I are Floridians and moved to Easton Island a few years ago.”

“I heard.” Travis shifted his attention to Morgan. “You’re the Shifting Sands Medallion finder, the infamous Morgan Easton.”

“In the flesh,” she joked.

“I’ve read your story. Quinn has also been filling me in on some of the details. I find it fascinating.”

“Fascinating as a hobby or a profession?” Brett probed.

“A little of both. I worked as a teacher before I became involved in more diverse business ventures.”

Morgan perked up. “You’re speaking our language. What sort of business ventures?”

“It hasn’t gotten off the ground yet, so I would rather not say. I’ll get out of your hair.” Travis picked up the bag that was sitting on the counter. “See you later.”

“Sure thing, Travis. Have a nice day.” Quinn waited for him to leave and close the door behind him. “You embarrassed me.”

“Embarrassed you how?” Brett asked.

“You two were giving him the third degree.”

Morgan frowned. “We were making conversation. It’s not every day someone moves from San Diego to Easton Island.”

“Well, to me it sure seemed like you were interrogating Travis.”