Just Home for the Holidays - Deborah Cooke Page 0,45

lists and inventories.” Her mom laughed. “You should have seen his face when I said I could immediately give him a complete inventory.” They laughed together. “But I also know my friends and acquaintances. I know who collects what. I know who has admired what. And I think he’s right that I could discretely rehome the majority of my collection. He’s going to pay me a commission and if it works out as we both anticipate, I might have a job for the first time in my life.”

“Stealth acquisition and placement,” Chloe said. “I think you’d be great at it, Mom.”

“Me, too.” Her smile was bright. “So, you see, a door closes and another one opens. Life is an adventure, Chloe. Don’t forget that.”

Her mom couldn’t have said anything to make her think more about Hunter. “Do you mind if I have plans today?”

“Of course not. We had our family dinner last night, after all. All that’s left are the dishes.” Her mom waved at the stacked plates on the far counter. “Your grandmother’s china doesn’t go in the dishwasher. Not with all that gold on them, and I don’t have the heart to ask Nita to do it all. I’ll do it one last time.”

“I’ll wash it when I get back,” Chloe offered. “I think they’re worth it.”

“So do I! You know, when we were first married, your father and I used those dishes once a week. It didn’t matter what we were having. He said there was no point in stacking them away, that we should enjoy them. And we did.”

“Are you going to sell them?”

“I won’t have room for them and Amanda has her own wedding china. They’re not practical, Chloe, so I didn’t think you’d want them.”

“I do.”

“Then they’re yours, dear. We’ll pack them up and I’ll tell the auction people to live without them.” Her mom stood up and they hugged each other tightly.

“I’m sorry about the apartment, Mom.”

“Don’t be. It’s time for a change and I have a new challenge.” Her mom pulled back to look into Chloe’s eyes, her own brimming with tears. “Once a week?”

“I’ll use them, Mom. I promise.”

“Now, go have Christmas with that young man of yours. You have keys, whenever you get home.”

Chloe rang the buzzer for the apartment where Hunter had been staying. She knew he wasn’t moving to another place until Friday.

“Yes?” It was a woman’s voice on the intercom, which surprised Chloe a bit.

But then, why should she be surprised?

“I’m looking for Hunter,” she said, fully expecting the woman to say she had to kick him out of bed.

“Oh, he’s not here anymore,” the woman confessed. “I’m Yvonne. We came home early because there’s an illness in Nick’s family. Hunter left last night when we got back.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“No.” Yvonne seemed to be startled by the question. “To his own place, I’d guess.”

Chloe thanked Yvonne and wished her a merry Christmas, then stood in the street, thinking. She called Hunter again, and again, was sent to voice mail. He had no apartment of his own and she knew it. Where would he go? She had visions of him sleeping on some street corner or at a shelter, but then she guessed.

Flatiron Five Fitness.

Of course.

Hunter was starving.

It was only nine, though, and he didn’t want to abandon his stuff. Trust him to forget the one pertinent detail about the seventh floor at F5F—all the electrical sockets were in the corridors. The private meditation rooms didn’t have any. He hadn’t been able to leave his phone charging in the hall overnight, because the security guy might have seen it on his rounds and dropped it into the lost-and-found. It had chimed around three-thirty in the morning and died in his hand.

He had to call Char at noon New York time or she’d worry about him. How was he going to get his phone charged?

At least he’d had a place to go when Yvonne and Nick arrived home early. He hadn’t been able to find a hotel room for Christmas Eve, so had crashed at the club. It was all good, except for his phone.

Reid’s bodega in the lobby was opening at ten, a bit later because of the holiday, but Hunter really didn’t want to encounter Reid or Cassie in the elevators. He wasn’t due to work until one. He thought about the stairs, then considered his stuff. He didn’t have that many belongings, but a duffle bag, a backpack and a suit bag was