Page 29 of Quinn, By Design

“Can we talk about the foundation?” Lucy had buried that plan so deep in her subconscious she’d surprised herself.

“So, the tiramisu is booby-trapped.”

“I didn’t come here to ask you about the foundation.” Lucy resented the defensiveness in her voice. “Although, Henrydidcall this morning. And wedoneed to talk. Surely this is easier for you than getting you to visit Henry with me?”

“More thoughtfulness?” He was teasing her.

“I can be thoughtful.” She felt the heat rising up her throat when he grinned. “Stop being such a pain in the ... whisht.”

He laughed aloud. “I’ll have to remember that insult next time I’m pissed off. Serve the dessert, and I’ll answer your questions.”

“What makes you think I have questions?”

“Do you?” He collected clean bowls and spoons.

“Yes.” Lucy lifted the cooler bag onto the table.

“You have questions because cabinetmaking isn’t your area of expertise, and you want to understand it.” He was letting her off the hook. “I’ll let you serve. Let’s sort the auction out first.”

Twenty minutes later, Lucy had chosen a dining set with eight chairs for the shop. They’d agreed she’d bid on a pair of late-nineteenth-century mahogany library bookcases, one of which needed restoration work. “Only if the price is right,” she insisted.

“Any more tiramisu?” He eyed her cooler bag.

“Unfortunately, no.” She upended it to prove in this, at least, she was telling the truth. “Next time, I’ll buy the eight-person serving size instead of the four.”

“Four people on starvation diets.” He licked his spoon, and a little sizzle slid down her spine. “I’ll make the tea.” He sauntered toward the kitchenette.

He had a great butt, a delicious body butthat, repeatthat, was not why she’d come. He was as comfortable making tea as hefting a hunk of marble and looked good doing whatever task he turned his hand to. Lucy inhaled, absorbing the complex smell of his workspace. Linseed and wood shavings with notes she couldn’t identify. Unlike McTavish’s habitual scent of beeswax and oriental lilies, the workshop offered a kind of olfactory comfort for her loss.

“What about the foundation?” He set the teapot between them, returning to the kitchenette for cups and milk.

“There’s an organisation that manages scholarships for families and companies. Henry thinks I should hand it over to them because of my workload.” He’d said Lucy lacked the skills as well as time to take it on.

“I’m guessing you set Henry straight.”

“Grandpa would have wanted me to be hands-on.” Saying the words aloud solidified her decision.

“What’s that involve?” He poured two cups of tea, doctored hers as Lucy liked and passed it to her. He did thoughtful on a regular basis, which was both irritating and endearing. Irritating because she wasn’t as kind as she’d like to be. Endearing because kindness was baked into his character.

“The simplest way is establishing a not-for-profit organisation.” Lucy organised her points in a logical order. “There are general requirements for tax purposes, like the use of funds purely for the scholarship and disbursements if we close it down.”

“I’m a simple guy. It’s getting late.” He angled his chair away from the table, stretching out his legs and crossing his ankles. “Words of one syllable will work for me.”

“We can’t pay ourselves unless we have legitimate expenses related to the scholarship, and if we dissolve the foundation, any monies remaining should go to some like-minded venture.”

“Makes sense. So what do you want to discuss with me?”

“Tell me what you have to do to become a cabinetmaker.” Family pride demanded Lucy take an active role in the selection process, but she’d waded through pages on the internet and hadn’t found answers.

“A lot, but not all, cabinetmakers in Australia do apprenticeships. A kid can be apprenticed, usually for four years, to an individual employer. Alternatively, he or she can work for an organisation, which acts as a sort of brokerage firm—farming out apprentices to different employers for shorter or longer periods of time.” He perched his teacup on his chest, motionless. He didn’t often stop moving.

“That’s a three-way deal, isn’t it? Employer, apprentice and the training organisation.” Lucy had a basic understanding of the Australian apprenticeship system.

“Yeah, and if a kid’s apprenticed, then they’re getting a wage and have a day job.”

“Wouldn’t an employer want to keep them after they’ve finished, especially if they’re exceptional?” She was looking for exceptional in the foundation’s first mentee.

“Not always. Some employers only keep family members, others might take the pick of the crop, and some feel a responsibility to give a young graduate a few years’ experience before they cut them loose.”

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