When the Wind Chimes - Mary Ting Page 0,23

the sofa.

“Hey, Stella.” I dabbed the sweat on my forehead with my hand and unbuttoned my sweater. “It’s hot in here, no?”

Stella started and looked up from her desk with wide, surprised eyes. She must have been reading.

She cleared her throat. “Why are you panting?”

Good question, but you don’t need to know.

“Oh, I thought ... Um, anyway, everything good?”

She hiked up her eyebrow. Nope, she wasn’t distracted.

“You had a customer this morning, but I told him you would be in a little later.”

I stopped shrugging off my sweater, one arm still trapped. “What customer? I don’t have any friends here and I certainly don’t have any customers. I don’t have any new pieces.” My babbling gave away too much.

Her lips tugged at the corner. “I didn’t say he was your friend, Kaitlyn.”

The coy tone and the curl of her lips implied she had more to tell.

My flats slapped the tile floor as I walked to her desk. “Who is it, Stella? Does this customer have a name?” I used the same mysterious voice back.

“Mr. Medici. He asked for you.” She sipped coffee from her paper cup and placed it down by the office phone.

I furrowed my brow. “What? Why?”

“I don’t know.” She lifted her shoulders.

“Did he look mad?” I adjusted my purse strap and placed a hand on the corner of her desk, eyeing her cute floral dress.

Stella squinted with a speculative gleam in her eye. “No, but is there something going on between you two?”

“No, no, no.” I shook my head. “I don’t know him. Why do you ask?”

She gave me a side-long glance. “Well, he seemed ... nervous. I don’t know how to describe it, but he walked in and out of the store a couple of times, and when he finally stopped to talk to me, he asked if you were working today. When I told him you were coming back later, he seemed relieved, I think.”

Whatever. Perhaps he wanted me to pay for his dry cleaning. But that shirt had been unsalvageable. Maybe he wanted me to buy him a new shirt—that didn’t sound right either. If he could spend three grand on a painting, he could afford to replace a shirt.

“Well ...” I stopped talking because I had no answer and backed away. “I’ll be finishing up my painting. Just ring if you need anything.”

She twisted her rolling chair to face me. “Sure. That’s what I did the last time and you told me to take care of it.”

A mistake that got me into a mess.

Sarcasm must be the reason Stella had lasted longer than the others. I stopped halfway to the back room and cringed.

“Sorry. I won’t do that again.”

Stella continued, “Do you want me to get anything for you during my lunch? I’m going to get a chicken salad and a strawberry smoothie.”

I opened the door and looked over my shoulder. “Sure. I’ll have the same. Thanks.”

After I set my purse on the desk, I tapped play on my earbuds and set up my painting area in front of the huge canvas named Mr. Medici’s Shirt. A laugh burst out of my mouth at the memory of my creation on his white, crisp, expensive shirt.

This time I let my paintbrush do the work. No more hands for a while. I thought about Tyler as I added white over the red and green I had smeared on yesterday.

The paint blended on the canvas, creating new colors and shades. Oils had been the right choice since they didn’t dry overnight. I had no plan for this masterpiece, but it might turn out to be something Abby could sell.

Perhaps I should consider the nanny position. I could be a nanny for two weeks and paint at the same time. At least I’d be making money.

I grabbed my cell from my back pocket of my jeans and punched the numbers before I could change my mind. A woman with a sweet voice answered the phone—Mona.

After Mona and I set up the date and time of the interview, I got back to painting. When Stella came back from her lunch break, she brought a salad and a smoothie for me as I’d asked. I took a few bites and got back to working on my piece. An hour later, Stella beeped me.

“Yes,” I sang, trying to sound polite since the last time I’d nearly bitten her head off.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Can you come out? Mr. Medici is here.”

I nearly choked on my smoothie. My heart