Page 39 of Bidding on a Second Chance
Not when Graham was starting to hope for the best.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Noise at the back of the store drew Piper from behind the sales counter. This amount of clunking meant Graham, and not a customer, was entering, but what had he brought in that had resulted in this racket? She hadn’t sent him out for anything.
She navigated her scooter around Teddy’s pen and advanced to the back hall.
“What do you think?” Graham paused, despite his fully loaded arms. He carried a simple, laminate coffee table that might’ve come from the nineties. Around one of his wrists, he’d looped a plastic shopping bag featuring a smiley face, which meant he’d been to Charlie’s hardware store, in addition to wherever he’d found the table.
“I think someone wanted to cheat on furniture for the auction.”
“Cheat?” Graham lowered the coffee table a few inches.
How much did the sticker on the top of it say he’d invested in this? Ten dollars?
“I had envisioned donating nicer pieces. Real wood, with special details. This doesn’t have any details. It’s a top and four legs that’ll take about ten minutes to repaint. And I know cheap laminate when I see it.”
“It might be made of composite and laminate, but don’t mistake that for flimsy. This thing is heavy.” Raising the table again bunched his coat over his biceps. “Sturdy. And with some paint—which will take more than ten minutes, by the way—people will never know the difference.” He angled his load into the stockroom. “Plus, I have a plan for a finish that’ll have everyone bidding on it.”
He set the table in the open workspace. She hadn’t realized he’d finished everything else they’d acquired so far, but each piece was neatly stacked at the side of the room and padded with blankets. A navy-blue dresser, an off-white china cabinet, and the matching bed, nightstand, desk, and bookcase. Six of ten pieces, and if this were the seventh, he’d have it done in no time. With only two and a half weeks left, it was good he’d made so much progress, but what plan wouldn’t result in the coffee table being the black sheep of their offerings at the auction?
Piper scooted close enough to look inside the bag, which Graham had set on top of the table. “Spray paint? They’re supposed to be Second Chances ‘signature pieces.’ My signature isn’t spray paint.”
“Take a closer look.”
The can rattled as she turned it to read the label. “It’s brown. That’s not a selling point.”
“It’s copper with a hammered finish. I used it on the vents in my house last year. It’s nice.”
“For a vent, maybe.”
He gave her a withering look. “If you spray on too much, it runs. The hammered finish and the metallic copper combine to look like glossy tree bark. I had to redo one of the vents because I did it on accident, but it’ll make a great tabletop.”
“That—” She bit her lips together, shutting in her skepticism when he shot her another warning glance.
“If you don’t like it, I’ll donate this to the auction myself and we can do something different for your tenth piece.”
“Okay.” Piper put her hands up in surrender. “While you were out thrifting, did you find any other pieces we can use?”
“An old full-length mirror in a wooden frame with a stand. A funky cabinet thing. Half of the top opens for unknown reasons, but shut it and it’s a cabinet with sliding doors someone might use as a TV stand or for storage. An old wooden rocking chair that’s going to be a bear to sand because of all the dowels. And a four-person dining table.”
“That’s four. One extra. You knew I’d be skeptical about the coffee table.”
“I’m skeptical the hammered paint will dry in time. It has to go on thick to run the way I want. If it’s not dry, we’ll need another option, and I guess you’ll be stuck with a reminder of me.” Graham stepped around her, presumably to go back out for the other items.
She maneuvered the scooter to follow. “Are you going to be able to carry this all in alone?”
“Would you help if I said no?”
Before she had to answer, Cody’s shape darkened the back door, and Graham swung it open so his friend could carry in the mirror. Working together, the men piled the new pieces in the stockroom, and Cody left again.
Graham lifted the coffee table to better center it on the tarp they used to protect the floor. The motion pulled his T-shirt taut against the muscles of his back and arms. He’d always believed in staying fit for duty, and apparently that hadn’t changed in the last two years. Not that she hadn’t noticed before this, but—
“What colors and hardware do you want on those?” Straightening, he motioned toward the new collection. “I’ll pick up the rest of the supplies on my next trip to Charlie’s.”
Right. Furniture. Charlie’s. Auction. All things she had more business focusing on than Graham’s level of fitness. She sized up the new arrivals. He had chosen well. Except the coffee table, each piece fit the aesthetic she’d envisioned.
She found a scrap of paper on the supply table and jotted down a shopping list.
