Page 7 of Wish You Once More
Bright sun beat heat down through the skylight in the studio I shared with a jewellery designer and an artist. Sharing the rent between the three of us worked well, and sometimes our tools were interchangeable. My furniture restoration business thrived in the town. With a mixture of well-off residents and business owners, plus tourists, the majority of things I upcycled flew out of the door. Right now, I was waiting to start a new project, whenever the right item came through the door.
As if on cue, my phone rang.
Harry Carrera.
I had a great business relationship with Harry. He did a lot of house clearances and auctions and often found things that he couldn’t sell. With a bit of effort I could usually transform them into something which would. At his knock down prices I could bank a healthy profit.
“Hey, what have you got for me?”
“Seriously, Bree, you’re asking me that? You know the answer.”
The flirty edge to his tone was reassuringly familiar. We’d dated up a few times in the past, nothing serious, and never moved past the kissing stage, even though I knew Harry wanted to take it further. Originally an Essex boy, he was good fun and always managed to cheer me up if I felt low. His call couldn’t have come at a better time.
“Yeah, whatever,” I huffed. “But all your recent clearances have been duds. I need something to inspire me.”
“Come down to the shop and see.”
“Can’t you tell me? Or better yet, send me a picture?”
He laughed. “A dick pic?”
I wished he could see me roll my eyes so hard that I almost turned them inside my head. “No, Harry. Whatever fantastic stuff you’ve found for me to work on.”
“Then come to the shop,” begged Harry. “It’s a nice day. We could get a drink, some lunch, hang out. Then I can take you back to your studio with all the goodies.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. It was tempting. I mean, I could sit in the studio and sketch out some ideas for when I get the ideal bookcase/dresser/writing desk,orI could go and see what he had for me and actually get some work done.
My stomach rumbled at the thought of a break. It was shortly before midday, so I could legitimately call it a lunch hour.
“Okay, give me fifteen minutes. Don’t let anyone else see the goods before I get there.”
His throaty laugh almost made me regret my choice of words. I knew what he was thinking before he even answered. “You can always see the goods, Bree, all you have to do is say the word.”
I ended the call before my mouth got me into any more trouble. A message flashed on my screen.
Darla: Any news from Mat yet? All good?
I fired back a vague update, not wanting to admit I hadn’t been able to write a simple text message to get hold of him.
Bree: Nothing yet, expect he’s busy with band stuff.
Darla: Okay, let me know if there are any issues.
Bree: Sure, no worries!
While I hated lying to Darla, the small task she’d assigned me seemed more difficult than it was worth. I dropped my phone into my bag, then grabbed the keys for the studio. Once I’d locked up, I started the walk to Harry’s. He had a shop off the market square in the centre of town, full of junk - antiquities, he called them - and all sorts of odd shit. How he made a living from it was beyond me. I assumed he sometimes stumbled across a real gem and was able to sell it to a dealer for way more than he’d paid for it. While I walked, I slid my sunglasses on and pulled my hair up into a high ponytail, using the band which habitually lived on my wrist. The weather was absolutely glorious, the prefect prelude for the Dart Sundowner. Fingers crossed it didn’t change before the weekend.
A couple stood chatting with Harry when I arrived, asking him about the new pieces he’d got in. I hovered just in earshot, just to make sure he wasn’t selling them the good stuff he usually sold to me.
“No, sorry, nothing like you’ve just described. We would usually have some chests of drawers, but the only ones we’ve got are at the back of the shop. Would you like to take a look? Otherwise, I’ve got another clearance booked at the start of next week.” Harry caught sight of me and winked.
Bingo! He must have a new chest of drawers for me. They were a quick win, and usually in high demand.
“We’re only here for the weekend, and came in on the off chance,” the woman said. “If you haven’t got anything, we’ll leave it for now.”
If there were here for the weekend then they had to be coming to the festival. Shame they had to miss out on some nice furniture though.
“That’s fine. Feel free to browse in case anything does take your fancy.” The corner of his mouth curled up, as he spoke, his eyes never leaving me.
