Coming Home to Love (Lakeside Porch Series Book 2) (18 page)

“Gianessa would be beautiful in a flour sack.”

“You’re making me jealous.” She sat up with a playful scowl, and he trailed his fingertip down her cheek and jaw, onto her neck.

“And, although you’d be beautiful in a flour sack, I prefer you naked.”

“Still want to do this?”

Gianessa nodded, though she looked everywhere but at him.

Justin waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. “I called our three jewelers again yesterday, and two of them were still enthusiastic about the piece. Both gave me estimates this time, and they were miles apart. I recommend we start with the better estimate. Henri might have a buyer. How does that sound?”

If she said, “Whatever you say,” he would know she’d had second thoughts.

“It sounds right,” she agreed, her voice firm. “It helps me so much that you’ve done this footwork, that you have the contacts to make this so easy for me.”

He touched his finger to her chin. “I don’t think this is easy for you,” he said gently.

“Emotionally, no, you’re right. I’ve been going back and forth with ‘what to do about the necklace?’ for three years. I don’t know why, but it’s only since I came to Tompkins Falls that I’ve known the right thing is to sell it and invest the proceeds, whatever they may be, in my life going forward.”

“Even though it’s your last link with Les and Isabella?”

Her eyes filled up.

“I have no link with Les, not even in my heart. This necklace is really about him, about how he once valued the two of us, mother and daughter. My link with Isabella is in my heart, not in this beautiful necklace.”

Justin felt his heart glow with warmth and hope. “Then, we’ll proceed. Henri will see us anytime this morning.”

Gianessa reached for her coat and said with finality, “It’s time. Thank you for helping me to move on. I couldn’t do this on my own.”

“You’re stronger than you think.”

Gianessa shook her head. “For me, it’s overwhelming, the thought of waltzing into a jewelry store in New York City and trusting someone to give me a fair deal. You are guiding me and protecting me.

She patted her hand over her heart and rested it there for a moment. “I like the way that feels.”

“If we don’t go now, we’ll back in bed for the day.”

She burst into a laugh. “See how wise you are?”

Henri greeted Justin with a practiced bow. “Monsieur
Cushman.”

“Henri, meet my dear friend Gianessa Dupioni.”

“You are Italian, Madame?”

“My father grew up near Milano. I’ve never been, but it’s on my list.”

“You must go!” Justin said in chorus with Henri, and the three of them laughed.

Henri gave Gianessa a little bow. “Monsieur Cushman tells me you have a LaFave for me to consider. Did you bring the piece with you today?”

Gianessa nodded.

Henri ushered them to a nearby jewelry counter, where Gianessa drew a blue pouch out of her pants pocket and loosened the strings.

If Henri was aghast at her scheme for protecting the necklace, he gave no indication. “Allow me, Madame, to place it here,” he said formally, indicating the black cloth-covered square on the glass counter top.

Gianessa handed the piece to him. He hefted it, and his eyebrows shot up. Evidently the weight of the metal pleased him. He drew out his instruments and set to work.

Justin explained to Gianessa, “Henri is testing the weight and integrity of the platinum and the gold and examining the jeweler’s mark.”

Gianessa watched the procedure without comment for a few moments before asking Justin, “You’ve done this before? Sold pieces of jewelry?”

“Yes, several times. My mother had no interest in most of her family jewels but knew they were collector’s items or otherwise of interest on the market. Henri handled those pieces for us.”

Henri held up his hand for silence, and Justin touched his finger to his lips.

Gianessa gave him a conspiratorial smile and let him look into her eyes. Her face radiated calm and determination about this transaction.

It made him happy beyond all reason that she was, at last, letting go of the necklace and all it symbolized. As she turned back to watch Henri, a whiff of Chloe suffused his senses. He wanted more.

What’s happening to me this weekend?
He’d swallowed his pride to make amends for the way he’d treated her at the bridal shop, something he’d never done with a woman. He’d let her see his affection and concern for the young bride Manda, feelings he barely realized he had. He’d taken this beautiful, desirable woman to bed with him and made passionate love to her. Now his heart burst with joy that she was divesting herself of the last, high-priced token of her marriage.

This was not the Justin Cushman he’d seen in the mirror a year ago—or ten years ago for that matter, when he’d lived with Alexa.

Henri cleared his throat. “Madame, the best price for this item will come at auction, as you may know, but I am prepared to make you an offer today, if you are interested.”

“I am interested, Henri. I would prefer not to go to auction, if we can agree on a figure.”

He raised his eyebrows, perhaps surprised that she was not pushing for the ultimate return.

He glanced at Justin, who gave him the most discreet of shrugs.

“Very well. Let me say this necklace is a genuine LaFave, as you no doubt know. It is unique among his two-hearts necklaces. To my knowledge, he never fashioned two complete strands with a jewel closure, except in this piece. He occasionally placed a gemstone or a pearl at the closure of a single strand, never such a large stone as this and never encircled as this stone is by bands of gold and platinum. This is, indeed, a unique and exquisite piece.” He glanced at Justin. “You knew that, no doubt, Monsieur?”

Justin smiled. He actually had no idea. He had simply recognized the alternating gold and platinum hearts of LaFave.

Henri went on, “LaFave is enjoying attention right now, and, of course, Valentine’s Day is upon us. I have confidence I can sell this piece. For all these reasons, I am prepared to offer you today, Madame, fifty thousand dollars.”

Justin inhaled reflexively and looked quickly at Gianessa who stood with her mouth open. She swayed a bit, and he reached out a hand to steady her.

“You—you’re offering me fifty thousand dollars for my necklace?” she asked in disbelief.

Henri nodded.

“Thank you.” She reached out her hand. “I accept your offer.”

Henri, Justin saw, was stunned. It must be he had a buyer who was prepared to pay a good deal more than that. Justin, however, had never imagined the piece was worth more than thirty thousand. An uneasy thought crossed his mind.

“A word, Henri?” he said quietly. “In private.”

Gianessa eyed him, troubled and a little annoyed.

“Sorry, darling, there is one small point I need to discuss with Henri first. I beg your indulgence for a brief moment.” The fire in her eyes said she was peeved at him. He’d not only interfered, he’d called her darling.

Their eyes held for a long moment before she brought out a beautiful smile and said brightly, “I’ll just look at the watches a moment, gentlemen.”

As she floated past him, she gave Justin’s ankle a sharp kick.

Justin sucked in his breath, and Henri closed his eyes in sympathy.

Henri discerned, “Your concern is with the buyer? I cannot share the gentleman’s identity with you, as you are aware.”

“Indeed. I will watch your face as I tell you that Ms. Dupioni’s former husband Les Bennett gifted her with the necklace when their daughter Isabella was born.”

Henri’s face flooded with relief, and he gave an almost indiscernible shake of the head.

“
Merci
, Henri. I could not have allowed that.”

Henri gave a slight bow. “You are a gentleman.”

“As are you, Henri.”

“Now, will the lady prefer a check in hand or an electronic fund transfer?”

“You’ll need to speak with Ms. Dupioni on that matter, Henri. At the risk of another ankle chop, I’ll see if she’s ready to address that with you.”

Ms. Dupioni preferred an electronic fund transfer to her money market account, which she and Henri arranged in the privacy of Henri’s office while Justin looked at the watches.

A saleswoman strolled up beside Justin, pointed to an exclusive French ladies’ watch with a mauve crocodile band. “I believe that is the one the lady asked to see.”

Justin regarded the heavy piece with skepticism. “And did she like the way it felt on her wrist?”

“I believe she found it too weighty. It was the color of the band that caught her eye, sir.”

“Did she inquire about the price?” Justin probed, wondering if that was the real turnoff.

“She did not, and as you know our items don’t have price tags.”

“Have you anything lighter weight with a similar look that we might bring to her attention?”

“I’m afraid not, sir.” She gave him a wide smile. “Believe me, I wish we did.”

“And I as well,” Justin said. “You’ve been very helpful.”

Justin knew he was in trouble with Gianessa for interfering with her transaction, and a gift might have helped. But then, she’d refused the silk gown at the bridal shop yesterday. He must remember he could not buy his way back into her good graces. Full disclosure seemed to be the better strategy.

Henri emerged from the back, looked around for Justin, and made his way across the room.

“Done to your satisfaction, Henri?”

“
Mais oui
. The lady is powdering her nose, I believe.”

Henri shook Justin’s outstretched hand. “You are a very lucky man, Justin Cushman.”

Justin’s eyes lit up as Gianessa came toward them. She wore a megawatt smile, which he tested with a scowl and asked, “Am I in trouble?”

She laughed, shook her head, took Henri’s arm, and planted a kiss on Henri’s cheek. “Now, I’m starved. Henri, where can Justin and I find a salad with fresh seafood and a quiet table for two?”

Henri signaled the saleswoman to hail a cab for them, scribbled an address and the name of a restaurant, and bid them a hearty “
Bon appetit
.”

“My brain’s not working,” Manda groused.

Gwen Forrester laughed. “As your AA sponsor, I’ve been listening to you process things for a year now. Take it from a psychologist, your brain’s perfectly normal. You just get stuck sometimes, like all of us do. You’re not thinking about drinking?”

“I’m not going to drink.”

“Good. What’s got your brain all befuddled?”

“The wedding date.”

“June twentieth, right?”

“Well, it could be May thirtieth.”

“Really? An earlier date has opened up?”

Manda nodded. “I got a call this noon as I left Rochester. Joel and I are so ready to be married. And I have the gown. Wait till you see it! The thing is Joel wouldn’t be ready for a honeymoon in Ireland that early.”

Gwen reached out a hand to her favorite sponsee and gave it a squeeze. This had been a tough courtship for Manda and Joel. They had agreed to hold off on sex until Manda got a full year of sobriety, but Joel had been critically injured about nine months into Manda’s sobriety. Gwen had gone through at least a case of tissues on her lakeside porch for Manda alone as they talked through all the agonizing twists and turns. Gwen doubted Joel would be ready for a trip to Ireland anytime this calendar year. No wonder her little chickie was fretting. She probably knew Ireland was out for now, and she didn’t know how to get Joel on board with a realistic plan.

“Let’s think about this,” Gwen said gently. “There are really three things wrapped up in this honeymoon in Ireland. There’s a dreamy, romantic honeymoon. There’s hot sex. And there’s a trip to Ireland. Remind me, what is the possible new date for the wedding?”

“May thirtieth instead of June twentieth.”

“So you’d be moving it up three weeks, basically?”

“Yes.” Manda sat at the edge of the chair.

“Will moving it up three weeks mean you and Joel are less ready for sex or for romance or for a trip to Ireland or all three?”

Manda scrunched up her face and looked out at the lake.

“You don’t have to tell me all your secrets. I’m just pointing out that the demands of a trip to Ireland are vastly different from tender lovemaking in your own little love nest.”

From the dreamy smile and the hot blush on Manda’s cheeks, Gwen figured there were no reservations in the sex department. That would be a huge gain for Joel’s recovery, as soon as he was able. Moving up the wedding date could also give him a mental boost.

“Let me ask some ridiculous questions.”

Manda swiveled her head, and Gwen was glad to see a conspiratorial smile.

Gwen sat back and sagely folded her hands in front of her. “What are the pros and cons of postponing the trip to Ireland for a whole year?” This game always worked for them.

Manda’s face fell.

“Ridiculous question, I know, but go with it for a minute.”

Manda squirmed, glanced out at the lake and took a deep breath. “Cons. We’re both really excited about this trip, and it would be a real downer for Joel’s recovery if we had to delay it.”

“He’s using the trip as a marker for recovery, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“Pretty high stakes, don’t you think?”

Manda shrugged.

“Is anyone other than Joel saying that this June is realistic for him to travel to Ireland?”

“Like . . .?”

“His doctors, his physical therapist?”

“Um, I don’t know.”

“Do you have reservations already? Flight reservations, hotels, a driver?” Gwen doubted that would be a problem anyway. Joel could afford to blow off a trip around the world if he had to.

“I don’t think he’s talked to anyone about details.”