“Me too. I love when they host parties and we see the houses.”

“Yeah, but you’re actually creating one. You have the coolest job.”

Morgan beamed. “Yeah, I kind of do.”

They watched the whole show, and Morgan loved being able to chat and compare notes on her favorite vice. After an intense debate over who was the best character on the show, Andy signed off and they flipped off the TV.

Sydney sighed with pleasure. “I feel so much better now.”

“Me too.” She glanced at her phone and the incoming text. “My call was rescheduled, so I can head out with you.”

“How’s the hotel?”

“Good. First-class pampering.”

“It must be nice having everything done for you,” Sydney remarked. “You need it, with your work schedule. How are you settling into Harrington? Have you been able to explore the town and have some downtime?”

Morgan sighed. “By the time I get to the hotel, I’m exhausted. I’ve seen a lot of the shops, though, and been looking forward to using some pieces to decorate the house.”

“Have you gone to the Barn?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Sydney clapped her hands. “Oh, I have to take you. You’ll go nuts. It’s this huge old farmhouse converted into a place filled with antiques and unique finds.”

Her heart picked up the pace. There was nothing she loved more than finding a shop that surprised her. Especially since their last conversation had her doubting her choices. Maybe browsing more would help. “I always research the area for local stores, but nothing came up with that name on my Google search. Can you tell me where it is?”

“That’s because the Barn doesn’t have a website. The owner is old-school. I’ll do better. You need some girl time. Hell, so do I. It’s located right on the edge of town, next to my favorite bar, called My Place. We’ll shop, then grab a burger and a cocktail.”

The idea of having a relaxing night out with a new friend was too intriguing to deny. She was getting tired of being the only female in the boys’ club. “I’m in.”

Sydney gave a squee. “Great! I can line up a sitter for Wednesday night, if that works?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had kids.”

A shadow crossed her usual sunny face. “I have one. A daughter.”

“I bet your husband dotes on her.” Morgan imagined a little red-haired girl like her mama. The pang hurt, but just for a moment, and when she smiled, it was genuine.

“No husband. I’m a single mom. Always was.” She paused, and her chin lifted an inch. “Is that a problem?”

Morgan jerked back. “Oh, my goodness, no! She’s welcome to join us, Sydney. We can do a girls’ shopping trip and eat burgers. I’d love to meet your daughter.”

Sydney relaxed and smiled back. “Sorry, sometimes in a small town where you’ve lived your whole life, people judge. Bad habit. Thanks for the invite, but she’s four years old, so I think she’d have more fun with a sitter and a Disney movie.”

“Then Wednesday is perfect. Thanks.”

“Awesome! God, I haven’t been out in ages. Now, let’s get out of here before we turn into pumpkins.”

They left, and Morgan drove to the hotel, looking forward to Wednesday night.

“I’ve died and gone to HGTV heaven.”

Morgan looked around the massive space and swayed on her feet. A bit woozy from the excitement, she spun around, head back, smile on her face, and let herself revel in the glory of such a find. The Barn was a giant red farmhouse with creaky double doors and a tiny sagging sign at the end of a winding gravel path situated close to the woods. She’d been doubtful at first, feeling as if she were stepping onto the set of a horror movie.

Until she got inside.

The two-story loft was filled to the brim with furniture, mirrors, signs, rugs, and endless accent pieces. Some were antique, some seemed new, and every taste and design was represented. There seemed no organization to it, and paper tags were attached to each item with a handwritten cost. One battered desk held an old-fashioned cash register. The back room contained old wood and various pieces that needed to be refurbished. It was a complete gold mine.

Sydney laughed. “Now you’re starting to scare me. It’s just stuff.”

“Glorious stuff. Stuff that may save my job, because I’ve been stuck on this one. I know the general look I want to achieve, but they threw me off during our last meeting. They’re new Hollywood, not old money. The Rosenthals want people to come to their house and be impressed but not be able to explain why. It can’t be about a room full of expensive furniture or antiques. It has to look effortless, like throwing on a shirt and jeans, yet the outfit is so perfect, everyone stares.”

Sydney blinked. “Wow. You’re good. I never thought furniture and decor could do all that.”

“Oh, it can. You won’t be bored, right? I think we’re going to spend some time in here.”

“I have a toddler at home. I go to the grocery store and have breakdowns in Target. I’m good.”

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

Morgan fell into the place like a woman fell in lust. Violently hopeful, voraciously needy, and hungry for satisfaction. She found a chaise lounge set reminding her of old-time Hollywood, the graceful carved wooden legs and velvet texture worn and faded. Beaded pillows in jeweled colors and hand-stitched afghans. Beveled glass mirrors so heavy, she could barely lift them. A mahogany dresser and matching nightstand with peacocks hand-carved into the wood. A jewelry armoire with double doors and ripped burgundy interior. Vivid watercolor paintings on canvas with chipped frames, sculptures of Greek goddesses in marble, and rugs with golden tassels in rich, swirling patterns that reminded her of medieval castles.




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