The Treasure Man. Pamela Browning
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Название: The Treasure Man
Автор: Pamela Browning
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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“I’d love to see what you do,” Patrice said. “The jewelry sounds like something that my customers might really like.” Before they hung up, they agreed on a day and a time when Chloe would drive to Palm Beach.
Ben emerged from the annex as Chloe clicked off her phone.
“You seem much more cheerful than you did a few minutes ago,” he observed as Chloe followed him outside.
She leaned back against the railing, watching as, with a variety of tools, he attacked the swing and the chain that held it. “That was Gwynne’s godmother. She invited me to show her my designs. Patrice is key to my plan, so I’m very happy about it.” And relieved, though she didn’t add that.
“Good for you.” Ben finished his work with the swing and gave it an experimental push before chucking the tools into a corner. “I brought a different rack that should fit. That one—” he nodded toward the rack responsible for Chloe’s broken fingernail “—belongs to another barbecue that got thrown away. I recall something about it.”
Chloe lowered herself to the top step as Ben dumped charcoal into the barbecue and doused it with charcoal lighter. “You must have lived at Frangipani Inn for quite a while,” she observed.
“In spells, every now and then,” he said.
She digested this, wondering if he was being intentionally vague. She well remembered how suddenly, that year she’d fallen in love with him, he’d disappeared from the inn. She’d heard rumors that Ben was still working at Sea Search. Someone ran into him on the beach but learned nothing about where he was living. In the fall, when Chloe was back in Farish, Gwynne had written that Ben was married. The news had devastated Chloe.
“You haven’t been here much as an adult yourself, have you?” Ben, unaware of her thoughts, accompanied his question with a curious glance.
“Only once in the past five years, since I didn’t like to leave Grandma Nell alone. Last summer, Gwynne was still at the inn, but Tayloe had gone to live with her new husband in Mexico.” Chloe brushed away a grasshopper who wouldn’t survive long if Butch caught a glimpse of him.
“Tayloe’s gone from the inn for good, I take it.”
“I think so. Gwynne, too. Once she gets her master’s degree, she’ll have the credentials to work with kids who have serious speech problems. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wanted to live in a larger city.”
“Good for her.” Ben touched a match to the charcoal and stood back while it caught fire. “Now that we’ve got this going, I’ll finish cooking the potatoes,” he said.
Ben started up the steps, and she trailed him into the kitchen, where he asked for milk, butter and salt. From his pocket he produced a packet of cheese. Before scooping the potatoes out of their shells, he dumped all these ingredients into a bowl.
Chloe watched, fascinated by his kitchen skills. She wondered if he’d cooked for his wife when he’d been married. She wondered how long the marriage had lasted.
“We’re making twice-baked potatoes,” Ben said. “You can help me put the filling back in the shells.” He handed her a spoon.
She wasn’t much of a cook herself, though Tara had often said that she made the best fajitas in the world. Ben’s delegation of duties took her by surprise.
“I’m not sure I—”
“Of course you can,” he said, demonstrating how to spoon the filling out of the bowl and smooth it into the potato skin.
“I’ve always been such a klutz at things like this,” Chloe said apologetically.
“You must be manually dexterous, or you wouldn’t be good at making jewelry,” Ben pointed out, looking over her shoulder. “You’re doing fine.”
Chloe decided that she liked the job after all, and when she set her stuffed potatoes beside Ben’s, no one could have told the difference.
“High five,” he said, holding up his hand, and she slapped him one in exuberance. She was beginning to feel really comfortable around him, as if they’d known each other for a long time. Which they had, of course, but now they related as adult to adult.
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