As George carried the last boxes upstairs, Juli noticed Maia checked her watch again.
She waved at Maia. “Go. I can finish this up and then I’ll leave.”
“The caterer is a small outfit. They’ll be here any minute.”
“I can let them in.” She didn’t care if she knew the caterers. That must be some kind of progress.
“You can, thanks.” Maia said. “George?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Don’t leave Mrs. Bradshaw here alone, please.”
“No, ma’am.”
“There’s a vacuum in the closet, George. Will you run it? When the caterer arrives, you can leave. Make sure they’re set, though, before you go? Call me if they forget the food or something.”
Julie said, “I’m laughing, right?”
“Keep your fingers crossed and call me if there’s a problem.”
“I promise.” She was tempted to salute, but Maia looked too tense to appreciate a joke.
Maia vanished and soon thereafter the caterers arrived, with the food and with no one she knew. Juli spoke with them to verify they had what they needed, then left them to their work.
She took a last look around the main gallery floor. The featured artist was a fabulous watercolorist. Some of his paintings were hung on the walls, others stood on easels. She found one last bit of litter behind an easel. She paused in the back room to drop it into the trash can. The door opened and daylight spilled in. Luke entered and shut the door behind him.
“You look very nice,” she said. His tux was broad through the shoulders and emphasized his lean looks. She remembered him looking much the same at the party many months ago—the night she’d met Ben.
He tugged at his cuffs. “Thanks. It’s very kind of you to help. You’re welcome to stay.”
“Maia and I discussed it.”
“I know. I understand the reasoning, but I don’t think your presence would’ve been a problem.”
She shrugged. “I’ll slip away now. I hope the showing goes smoothly.” She started toward the door where Luke stood. “Oops, I almost forgot my stuff.” She turned back to the counter and grabbed her purse and sunglasses.
Luke moved away from the door as a caterer came in asking a question about the set up. He directed his attention to the white-jacketed woman and Juli slipped out the back.
It was a beautiful evening and still early. She strolled along the uneven bricks of the sidewalk, smelling the water from the marina across the street, feeling the dry autumn breeze. She had no plans and no need to rush home. She stopped in front of a restaurant a short distance down from the gallery and decided to step in for supper.
The service was slow, but she didn’t mind. She had a decent view of most of the street, though not of the gallery itself since it was on the same side of the street. Through the window, she watched people moving along the walk, some elegantly dressed. They passed by in conversation with each other. No one she knew, but they had to be guests arriving for the showing.
Ben would’ve enjoyed it. The gallery showing, as well as watching the street show. He had a talent for seeing the best in everyone and enjoying every occasion. Did have a talent. Past tense.
She touched the corner of her eye and dabbed at a tear. They could’ve attended it together if he was still here. Or would they? Two months might have made a big difference in his condition.
Did Luke have a date? She could’ve asked Maia.
The waitress delivered her coconut shrimp. Juli settled back to enjoy her meal.
Maia hadn’t said when they’d bring everything back down, googley eyes and all. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning.
A streetlamp popped on as the last light waned. A woman paused beneath it. Red hair. Leslie? Had to be Jake and Sally’s friend because she looked familiar. She walked away, tall and sleek in a long, slim midnight blue gown. Arriving alone, apparently. Per Maia, Leslie hadn’t minded taking an unplanned swim with Luke. Leslie did appear to be a very good sport.
Juli shook her head. No need to be snarky about Leslie.
The waitress brought the check over and Juli opened her wallet to get the credit card. It was then she realized her car keys were gone.
She searched in the bottom of her purse and in the side pocket, but knew it was futile. She’d dropped them on the counter beside her purse while in the back room. She didn’t remember seeing them when she picked up her purse and sunglasses to leave. Could George or Maia have moved them? Could they have been knocked off the end of the counter?
What was at the end of the counter? The trash can.
Her heart sped up. Crap. Suppose they’d fallen into the trashcan and someone took out the trash? She didn’t have a spare set with her and she wasn’t up for dumpster-diving.