Aimee got out, carrying another plate, also carefully wrapped. “A little surprise. I hope you aren’t on a diet.”
“No ... ,” said Elizabeth, eyeing the plate from different angles trying to figure out what was under the plastic.
“Not that you need to be on a diet,” said Aimee, “you look great. I didn’t mean anything by that.”
“No, don’t worry about it. No offense taken. I never diet.”
“I wish I could say the same,” said Aimee, slamming her door shut. She walked to the trunk and opened it up, reaching inside to pull a platter out.
Elizabeth looked at the interior of the trunk, trying not to be nosy. But it was nearly impossible after she got a look at some of the things inside. “Is that a ... ? What is that?”
Aimee looked at what Elizabeth was pointing at and blushed a little. “Oh. That’s a needlepoint-covered footstool I got at an antique store. And that’s a child’s chair I got at another place. Oh, and an old Victrola record player speaker thingy.”
“Huh,” said Elizabeth. “Do you collect antiques?” She had several clients who did, and she’d seen their appraisal reports. Sometimes they were good investments, but usually the clients never got rid of them, so they never took advantage of the appreciation.
“Not really. I just have a few pieces I like, so I ... uh ... put them in here.”
Elizabeth gave her a penetrating look. “You put your favorite pieces in your trunk.” She said it as a statement, not sure she understood, but noticing that Aimee looked uncomfortable.
“Yeah. It’s a long story. Oh, check it out! There’s Kiki.”
Elizabeth looked up, actually hearing Kiki’s arrival before she saw her. Kiki was driving the bright orange muscle car that had been parked by Aimee the last time they’d met in the parking lot.
The car eased into the empty space on the other side of Aimee’s with a rumble and a loud growl before the engine shut off and Kiki stepped out on the driver’s side.
“Hey, chicks. Looks like I’m right on time.”
Elizabeth and Aimee greeted her warmly.
“You’re early for the meeting, actually,” said Elizabeth. “But just in time to carry something.” She gestured with her chin at the platter in Aimee’s trunk.
Kiki came over, throwing her big purse over her shoulder to free up her hands. “Give that to me,” she said to Aimee, making as if to take her plate. “You have your hands full. Ooooh goodies. What’s under here?” She went to pry the plastic up on the plate in Aimee’s hands, but Aimee slapped her fingers away.
“Don’t touch. You have to wait. Take the platter.”
Aimee waited for Kiki to take it out before shutting the trunk; but Kiki stopped her before she could push it down more than a few inches.
“What’s that thing? Is that an old record player in there?”
“Yes,” said Aimee. “Well, part of one.”
“Are we doing some more parking lot deals tonight?” asked Kiki, raising an eyebrow at Elizabeth.
Aimee smiled and shut the trunk. “Nope. No deals. Just food.” She pressed the lock and alarm button on her keychain. “Ready?”
They looked at one another and nodded their heads, turning in unison to walk to the bookstore and chatting as they went.
“So, how was work for the past couple weeks, Elizabeth?” asked Aimee.
“And what exactly is your work?” added Kiki.
“Well, I’m an accountant, and work was ... work.”
“That sounds ... good, I guess,” said Aimee.
“Actually, it’s dreadfully dull and it’s making me crazy, but thanks for being polite about it.”
“Phew, I’m glad you said that, because I was just about to say how boring it sounded.”
“Kiki!” admonished Aimee, “That’s her job. Don’t tell her it’s boring.”
Kiki shrugged. “I’m just saying ... ”
“No, don’t worry about it,” said Elizabeth, happy to know there was someone out there she could vent to. “It’s awful. I hate it.”
“Then why do you do it?” asked Kiki.
“Because she needs to make a living,” said Aimee. “Like I need to but can’t seem to be able to.”
They’d reached the doors. Elizabeth grabbed the handle since her plate was the smallest. “After you,” she said, nodding at their thank yous as they walked past her. She didn’t argue with Aimee’s assessment because it was true enough.