Kit said, feeling her body sag with relief.
“Wait, were you worried someone else had been there?”
“No, no,” Kit lied. She didn’t want Baby to see how on edge she was still feeling. “Have a great weekend.”
Before fixing dinner, she slipped into her office. She found the drawings Dara had mentioned and the messages from Baby. Checking her email, she discovered that the doctor, Keith Holt, had indeed sent her a message. He wrote that over the courseof a week, he’d heard people talking about her at two different dinner parties and that he’d been impressed by her website. He asked if she could come by his place next week to discuss the possibility of working on his apartment.
Nice , she thought. She offered him a few slots on the calendar, but suggested they speak on the phone first. She’d learned over time that making a connection with a potential client by telephone in advance reduced the chance of the client cancelling the appointment and postponing it indefinitely.
There was also an email from Avery, who had written to say she was “over the moon” about the concept for the cottage that Kit had sent her earlier. Kit grinned as she read it.
But at the end of the email she discovered a hitch. Avery mentioned that her aunt with the house in Key West had a selection of antiques she wanted to pass on to her and Avery needed to know which pieces, if any, would work in the cottage. She hoped Kit could make a quick trip to Key West and tag what she thought should be shipped north. Avery would foot the bill, though Kit knew she’d expect her to travel as inexpensively as possible.
The last thing Kit wanted was to be in Florida again any time soon, but Avery’s project was a substantial piece of business and she couldn’t refuse. For a moment she considered finding someone in Key West to photograph the pieces and email them to her. But that wasn’t the best way to evaluate furniture and she didn’t want Avery to incur the cost of shipping items that in the end might not work.
She wrote Avery back, saying that she would be happy to make the trip and would head down there next week. With that out of the way, they could begin serious shopping immediately afterward, which would help guarantee that the cottage would be ready by the start of summer.
Leaning back in her desk chair, Kit realized how much thethought of returning to the Keys unsettled her. Not that she worried about running into X. Even if Miami hadn’t really been his next destination, he’d probably hightailed it out of the Keys. But deep down, her emotions about Islamorada were still in a tangle, and too many questions continued to gnaw at her. Who was X? Why had he made love to her, asked to see her again, and then hoodwinked her? And how had she been so easily deceived? Being in the hot Florida sun would force it all to the surface again.
By the end of the weekend she had relaxed a little about the trip. She decided to fly south Thursday or Friday afternoon and return the next day, which would amount to just less than twenty-four hours away. And she’d do her best to keep her focus on the project.
Monday was bleak and rainy, a typical early April day, and she, Baby, and Dara hunkered down for the morning. At about eleven, as Kit was reviewing the contractor’s punch list for the Greenwich Village apartment, the phone rang. Dara answered and Kit heard her ask who was calling. Instinctively, she glanced up and caught a frown forming on her assistant’s face. Dara scribbled a few words on a piece of paper, told the caller, “Let me see if she’s here,” and then pressed the hold button.
“Kit,” she said, worriedly. “It’s the police. From Miami. A detective named Linda Molinari wants to talk to you.”
It felt to Kit as if someone had locked an arm around her from behind and was pressing hard against her chest.
“A detective ?” she said. “Did she say what she wanted?”
“No. Do you want me to ask her?”
Kit shook
“Wait, were you worried someone else had been there?”
“No, no,” Kit lied. She didn’t want Baby to see how on edge she was still feeling. “Have a great weekend.”
Before fixing dinner, she slipped into her office. She found the drawings Dara had mentioned and the messages from Baby. Checking her email, she discovered that the doctor, Keith Holt, had indeed sent her a message. He wrote that over the courseof a week, he’d heard people talking about her at two different dinner parties and that he’d been impressed by her website. He asked if she could come by his place next week to discuss the possibility of working on his apartment.
Nice , she thought. She offered him a few slots on the calendar, but suggested they speak on the phone first. She’d learned over time that making a connection with a potential client by telephone in advance reduced the chance of the client cancelling the appointment and postponing it indefinitely.
There was also an email from Avery, who had written to say she was “over the moon” about the concept for the cottage that Kit had sent her earlier. Kit grinned as she read it.
But at the end of the email she discovered a hitch. Avery mentioned that her aunt with the house in Key West had a selection of antiques she wanted to pass on to her and Avery needed to know which pieces, if any, would work in the cottage. She hoped Kit could make a quick trip to Key West and tag what she thought should be shipped north. Avery would foot the bill, though Kit knew she’d expect her to travel as inexpensively as possible.
The last thing Kit wanted was to be in Florida again any time soon, but Avery’s project was a substantial piece of business and she couldn’t refuse. For a moment she considered finding someone in Key West to photograph the pieces and email them to her. But that wasn’t the best way to evaluate furniture and she didn’t want Avery to incur the cost of shipping items that in the end might not work.
She wrote Avery back, saying that she would be happy to make the trip and would head down there next week. With that out of the way, they could begin serious shopping immediately afterward, which would help guarantee that the cottage would be ready by the start of summer.
Leaning back in her desk chair, Kit realized how much thethought of returning to the Keys unsettled her. Not that she worried about running into X. Even if Miami hadn’t really been his next destination, he’d probably hightailed it out of the Keys. But deep down, her emotions about Islamorada were still in a tangle, and too many questions continued to gnaw at her. Who was X? Why had he made love to her, asked to see her again, and then hoodwinked her? And how had she been so easily deceived? Being in the hot Florida sun would force it all to the surface again.
By the end of the weekend she had relaxed a little about the trip. She decided to fly south Thursday or Friday afternoon and return the next day, which would amount to just less than twenty-four hours away. And she’d do her best to keep her focus on the project.
Monday was bleak and rainy, a typical early April day, and she, Baby, and Dara hunkered down for the morning. At about eleven, as Kit was reviewing the contractor’s punch list for the Greenwich Village apartment, the phone rang. Dara answered and Kit heard her ask who was calling. Instinctively, she glanced up and caught a frown forming on her assistant’s face. Dara scribbled a few words on a piece of paper, told the caller, “Let me see if she’s here,” and then pressed the hold button.
“Kit,” she said, worriedly. “It’s the police. From Miami. A detective named Linda Molinari wants to talk to you.”
It felt to Kit as if someone had locked an arm around her from behind and was pressing hard against her chest.
“A detective ?” she said. “Did she say what she wanted?”
“No. Do you want me to ask her?”
Kit shook
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