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Chapters (82)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY JAMIE BRENNER
  3. PART ONE
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. PART TWO
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. PART THREE
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
  78. 73
  79. 74
  80. Acknowledgments
  81. About the Author
  82. What’s next onyour reading list?

“You wouldn’t believe the crowd,” she said, focused so completely on Jack she didn’t notice that someone else was there. “I thought today was the preview but I almost got my hand bitten off by some of these people who clearly have no sense of etiquette. And we’re not putting this tea tray onto the floor. I’m going to call—”

“Elise and Fern. Great thinking,” Jack said. He cleared his throat. “And . . . you have a visitor.”

Celeste turned, taking a few beats to register that it was her sister standing in front of her.

“Good lord—what are you doing here?” Celeste said.

“Hello to you, too,” Elodie said, shrugging off her cardigan.

Celeste’s hair was loose and a bit stringy and she was dressed in some sort of embroidered caftan.

“Elodie, seriously. What’s going on?”

Pearl strained at her leash. She needed to be walked. Elodie mustered a smile for her sister.

“Can we, perhaps, talk outside?”

12

Elodie followed her sister up the street, which was packed with pedestrians. Bikes whizzed past in every direction and cars moved at a crawl. Celeste told her she picked the first busy week of the season.

“Apparently,” Elodie said. “I couldn’t find a decent hotel.”

“Where are you staying?”

“I decided just to make it a day trip.”

Celeste raised an eyebrow. “That’s a hell of a long day trip. So what brings you here? CabaretFest?”

Elodie offered a tight smile.

“No. I needed to talk to you.”

“Uh-oh. Sounds serious.” A pedicab drove past, the two people in the back blasting dance music from their phones. “Should I be sitting down for this?”

They crossed the street and followed an alleyway to the water. It turned breezier, the air thick with brine. They passed a few wooden buildings—a house and a garage, some kayaks on a rack, and a wooden shack—like a small tollbooth or mini office—under a boat rentals sign. Beyond that, the area splintered off into separate docks. They sat on a bench.

“How lovely,” Elodie said.

Celeste turned to her.

“Yes. It is. And I’m happy for you to finally see it after all these years. But I’m guessing you’re not here for the view. What’s going on?”

Best to just come out with it. “I need your signature on a document.”

“Mine? Why?” Celeste seemed genuinely confused.

“Just some minor bureaucracy before I proceed with an auction.” She opened her bag and pulled out the contract. “Whitmore’s likes to make sure all their T’s are crossed, that sort of thing.”

Celeste looked skeptical. Elodie anticipated this. “If you want a share of the proceeds, I’m willing to negotiate.” Pearl barked, and Elodie knelt down to calm her.