Drape Expectations Read online

  “De-clutter? I don’t understand.”

  “Even though I plan staging themes, I have to make sure a prospective home buyer can imagine moving in their possessions. Besides that, too many pieces of furniture take away from the beauty of each one. Many of my clients rent a storage shed or begin selling the furniture they don’t intend to take with them when they move.”

  “I’m not exactly sure what I’d be moving into Ace’s,” Alanna said with a pensive look. “We haven’t discussed that.”

  “You should make a list,” Caprice advised her. “There are also advantages to incorporating a few more inviting pieces and colors rather than the deep wines and dark browns in most of these rooms.”

  “I’m not changing my color schemes.”

  Aha. The resistance she’d expected from this woman. “I’m not suggesting you change them. I’m suggesting you incorporate lighter colors with them.”

  She motioned to the draperies in the living room, the heavy tiebacks with the fringe. “For instance, just think about removing those draperies, hanging sheers, letting in more daylight. That will make the room more inviting.”

  “I am not taking down my draperies. They go with the house. They’re part of its character.”

  Caprice swallowed a retort and reminded herself Alanna could be the love of Ace’s life. “Mrs. Goodwin, would you like to sell the house quickly?”

  Alanna looked trapped. “Yes, I want to sell the house quickly. That’s the whole point of hiring you. I’m ready to make a home for me and Ace.”

  Caprice nodded, seeing that in her statement Alanna seemed sincere. “Why don’t I make a list of suggestions of pieces of furniture you can remove. Instead of removing the draperies entirely, maybe we could take away the tiebacks and the dark semi-sheers and use something more see-through. I’ll compromise with you, Mrs. Goodwin. But you have to remember, whatever I suggest will aid in selling the house. For example, I would never remove your Oriental carpet. But I might add a shawl over the back of one of the dark chairs to complement the lighter blue in the rug. I might take away the dark velvet throw pillows and use a pale green that might match the sheers. I could move in a taupe love seat and remove the two ornate settees. Do you see the changes I’m talking about?”

  Today, Alanna was dressed in a pale gray cashmere sweater and deeper gray slacks. The pearls and earrings she wore were classically beautiful. This woman should be able to understand easily what Caprice wanted to do.

  Alanna cast a glance around the first floor of her home. She sighed. “I understand.” After a moment, she added, “It will be hard to leave this. But I’m ready.”

  Knowing Ace wasn’t alone in this new romantic adventure and his daughter, Trista, would be along for the ride, Caprice couldn’t help but ask, “Have you and Trista spent time together?”

  At that question, Alanna’s face took on a look almost the same as when she talked about her cat. “I’m not concerned about Trista. We’ve met, but she doesn’t live with Ace. She’s simply a now-and-then weekend daughter. That’s a shame, of course, but that’s just how it’s going to be.”

  That seemed to be a line drawn in the sand for Alanna. However, as she finished with her conclusion, a shadow passed over her face. Alanna was about five years older than Caprice, maybe in her late thirties. It was hard to tell. From her background research, Caprice had learned Alanna had begun her professional life as a journalist in Mississippi. She’d met Barton Goodwin when she’d interviewed him for a story and they’d married a few months later. Apparently, Barton had invented a new kind of scaffolding for construction sites, and his company had established enterprises worldwide. He’d moved them to Kismet to be closer to Washington, D.C., Baltimore, and New York. With his sudden heart attack, Alanna had inherited a fortune.

  From her research, Caprice had surmised Alanna didn’t seem to have much to do with the day-to-day running of Goodwin Enterprises, but she did sit on the board of directors. Maybe she wished she and Barton had had children. Often when women reached their late thirties, they thought about that more. However, Caprice was just guessing. She didn’t know Alanna and doubted she’d get to know her. The widow seemed to be the type of woman who usually kept her guard up—a mint julep with more bite than sweetness.

  Caprice took her electronic tablet from her purse. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to return upstairs and make that list for you of the pieces you can remove—that is, if you’re interested in hiring me.”

  “Ace would be disappointed if I didn’t.”

  “I can e-mail you a proposal tonight.”

  After considering Caprice’s services once more, Alanna nodded and gave Caprice a fake smile. “Make your list. I promise I’ll consider each suggestion seriously.”

  Caprice doubted that she would. But if they could compromise, they could make this house staging a real success.

  When Caprice returned to the living room twenty minutes later, she found Alanna seated at a rolltop desk in the side parlor adjacent to the larger room. Mirabelle was no longer in sight and she wondered if Alanna had “tucked” her away.

  This room possibly served as Alanna’s office. She didn’t mean to sneak up on Alanna, but the woman seemed focused on something at her desk. As Caprice looked over Alanna’s shoulder, she spied a photo of a little girl who looked to be about six.

  Caprice’s charm bracelet, which she wore almost every day now, must have jingled as she shifted her tablet in her hand because Alanna started, then quickly slipped the photo back into the desk drawer. Caprice wondered who the child was.

  That was none of her business.

  She asked Alanna, “Do you have an e-mail address where I can send the proposal and my list of notes?”

  Alanna rattled off her address. As she did, the porcelain-and-gold decorative phone on her desk jangled. Alanna said, “Could you excuse me a minute? I’m expecting a call.”

  “I can see myself out.”

  Alanna shook her head. “There is something else I’d like to ask you.”

  As Caprice wondered what that could be, she moved away from the parlor into the living room to give Alanna privacy.

  Still, she could hear the conversation, although Alanna kept her voice low.

  “It worked. That’s what matters,” Alanna said. After she listened a few moments, Alanna murmured, “It’s not sabotage when it’s for his own good. Keep me up to date.”

  Without even a good-bye, she set the handset on the receiver. Glancing at Caprice, Alanna manufactured a smile and joined her in the living room.

  Wanting to get back home to her animals, thinking about taking Lady to the dog park before she put together Alanna’s proposal, Caprice said, “You wanted to ask me something?”

  Alanna studied her. “Are you and Ace good friends?”

  Caprice picked up her purse from the settee, where she’d left it, and made eye contact with Alanna. “I don’t know if we’re good friends. We’ve talked to each other about some things that matter. I like his daughter a lot. Last summer, I found a stray dog who was pregnant. When she had her litter, Ace and his ex-wife said Trista could have one of her pups. Trista and I’ve talked a lot about the dogs and training them, and Ace has been around for that, too.”

  “I care about him deeply,” Alanna said firmly, as if that was in doubt.

  Caprice wasn’t exactly sure what to say to that. If Ace was in love and had found a soul mate, she was all for it. But had Ace dated Alanna long enough to really know her?

  “I wish you two all the best,” Caprice responded sincerely.

  But after Caprice left, after she climbed into her Camaro and headed for home, she wasn’t sure what that “best” would be.

  Chapter Two

  Caprice pulled inside her garage and parked beside her van. But she didn’t press the remote to put the garage door down. After she climbed out of the car, she ignored the door, which led to her back porch and the yard, where Lady liked to run and play. Instead, she studied the van with
its psychedelic colors on the side, the flowers, and the name of her business in turquoise letters—CAPRICE DE LUCA–REDESIGN AND HOME STAGING.

  She knew she should go into the house and write up Alanna’s proposal. But she was antsy. She could easily call her sister Nikki, who catered her open houses. They’d have to put their heads together for Alanna’s. Or she could round up Lady and go visit her sister Bella and her husband and three kids. Bella’s two older children, Megan and Timmy, loved playing with the pup. She could drop in on her parents, or on Nana, who lived with them. Fran and Nick De Luca were the kind of parents who were always glad to see their children and had an open door policy for family and friends. Besides visiting with her family, Caprice loved spending time with Nana’s new kitten, who was growing bigger each day.

  As she walked up the path to her front door, the charm bracelet on her wrist jingled. Seth Randolph, the doctor she’d dated before he’d taken a fellowship in Baltimore to further his training in trauma medicine, had given it to her on Valentine’s Day. He’d said he didn’t want her to forget him. She wore the bracelet often because she never forgot about Seth. When they’d dated, when he was around, he made her heart flutter, and made her feel special.

  Still, more recent in her mind, was a conversation she’d had at Bella’s new baby’s christening two weeks ago. She had been chatting with Grant Weatherford, her brother’s law partner.

  She and Grant had an odd friendship. It was more than a friendship really, though neither of them wanted to admit it. When she’d solved murder cases, Grant had helped her. He’d even saved her life once. That was hard to forget. They hadn’t yet put to rest what had happened at the Valentine’s Day dance. She could recall that night so vividly. When Grant hadn’t asked her to dance, she’d been disappointed until Seth had arrived unexpectedly and swept her off her feet. Afterward, Grant had left without a word.

  Maybe it was time they cleared the air, though the air was never clear when she was around Grant.

  She inserted her key in the lock of her front door. As soon as Caprice stepped inside, Lady was right there, gave a bark, and danced around her.

  “Hi, girl, I missed you, too.”

  Still, she didn’t want Lady to become overexcited every time she came home, so she walked by her, inspecting everything as she went.

  Lady followed, of course. No accidents were evident. A throw rug was curled up, as if Lady and Sophia had had a chase. Other than that, all was normal.

  Caprice’s house was a haven for her and her animals. Sophia, named for Sophia Loren, her nana’s favorite actress, sat atop the turquoise carpeted cat tree in the living room. She blinked awake as Caprice went over to her and spread her fingers through the pristine white ruff around the neck of the strikingly colored, long-haired calico.

  “Did you and Lady have a good time?”

  Sophia’s eyes half opened. She emitted a small meow as if telling Caprice her afternoon with Lady had been acceptable. Sophia was nothing if not laid-back. She got to her feet, stretched, and hopped down the cat condo, one shelf at a time. Lady bounded in and touched noses with her.

  Having enough of that, Sophia turned and leaped up onto the oversized dark fuchsia chair, catty-corner to the multicolored striped sofa. She sat on the arm of the chair, peering down at Lady.

  Caprice patted her hip and Lady followed her through her fifties-style dining room into her kitchen. The buttercup-colored appliances, with their vintage design, always brought a smile to her face. She so liked cooking in here for her family and friends.

  Except cooking wasn’t on her mind now as she commanded Lady to sit, gave her a special cookie treat and tons of praise. Then she went to the back door, opened it, and let Lady outside.

  After Lady scampered off the porch, Caprice took her cell phone from her slacks pocket.

  Putting trepidation and better judgment aside, she speed-dialed Grant’s number.

  He answered after the first ring, his deep baritone doing funny things to her equilibrium. “Hi, Caprice.”

  Tongue-tied for a moment, remembering the night that the two of them had delivered a litter of cocker spaniel pups, Caprice took a deep breath. Then, in her confident-woman voice, she asked, “How would you like to take Patches and Lady for a run in the dog park?”

  With the sun shining all day and the wind dying down, Caprice was glad to be outside with Lady. She’d parked in the lot designated for the dog park and smiled as she opened the gate and closed it behind them. They trotted along the path, where dog crosswalk signs occurred at intervals and paw prints lined the cement path. That path soon turned to gravel.

  She spotted Grant instantly. He was crouched down in front of Patches, rubbing the dog’s ears. Patches, Lady’s brother, didn’t look like the other pups in the litter. He had dark brown patches on his ears, around his nose, and on his flanks. His hair was a little curlier, too, and his ears shorter. He was staring up at Grant adoringly.

  It had been a surprise when Grant had decided to adopt the last pup left in the litter. Caprice had taken that as a sign he was putting a tragic past behind him and he was ready to care again.

  Caprice unfastened Lady’s leash and let her run ahead to greet her brother. Grant stood as Lady scampered over to Patches. He was wearing a navy Windbreaker, jeans, and sneakers. The hood on his jacket flapped as the breeze tossed it. He was tall and fit, and ruggedly good-looking.

  Now he gave her one of his half smiles as she approached. And, yes, she felt her pulse speed up.

  “You’re a little dressed up for this outing, aren’t you?” he asked, assessing her appearance.

  “I had a meeting with a client and didn’t want to take the time to change. It’s not like I don’t get cat and dog hair on everything anyway.”

  He chuckled. “Isn’t that the truth? I use packing tape to get it off. How about you?”

  “Lint brush.”

  As they stared at each other for a moment, even the wind seemed to stop. When they weren’t discussing a case or their professions, awkwardness seemed to surround them.

  That happened now, until Grant said, “I brought Patches’ ball, and I have a Frisbee in the car. Or do you want to just let them run for a while?”

  Patches and Lady were already chasing each other around the evergreen garden, which would be bordered with colorful plants—animal safe, of course—come spring.

  “Let’s let them run. They’ll follow us along the paths if we start walking.”

  As Caprice brushed her hair behind her ear, her charm bracelet jingled. She’d actually forgotten she had it on.

  Grant stopped and motioned to it. Maybe he had a must-discuss list for this outing. “Vince told me about that. He said Seth gave you a charm bracelet for Valentine’s Day. What does it mean?”

  Her throat felt dry and her tongue seemed pasted to the roof of her mouth. Just why did Grant want to know? He’d left the Valentine’s Day dance so abruptly after Seth had shown up.

  All she could do was be honest.

  “Seth gave it to me because he doesn’t want me to forget about him. But I don’t know where our relationship is going, or what will happen when he finishes his fellowship in the fall.”

  Maybe Grant hadn’t expected her to be so honest because he seemed stymied for a response. He started walking again and so did she.

  After a few steps, he said, “I should have asked you to dance at the Valentine’s Day dance.”

  Whoa!

  Maybe they were going to get down to the nitty-gritty. Maybe she’d find out exactly what he felt.

  “Why didn’t you ask me to dance?” She’d been so disappointed that night. She’d been looking forward to spending the evening with Grant, even though they hadn’t gone to the dance together. But they had sat beside each other. They’d eaten dinner together. Everyone had told her she looked like a million bucks. Yet she’d felt like a wallflower teenager. When the music played, couples had begun dancing and he’d remained silent.

  “I guess I
wasn’t ready to take that step,” he confessed.

  “It was just a dance, Grant,” she said softly.

  Stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets, he faced her. “You know my history, Caprice. I haven’t dated since my divorce. A dance—Well, it just seemed like it would have been a step in a definite direction.”

  Grant had been her brother’s college roommate, and she’d had a crush on him way back then. But he’d gone his way and gotten married, and she’d told herself she’d forgotten about him . . . until he’d returned to Kismet to be her brother’s law partner. Still, when he had, he had tragedy behind him. His daughter had drowned, and he and his wife had divorced. He’d started over in Kismet with Vince because he’d needed a new life.

  Caprice was wary of men who were divorced because she’d been burnt once before. Yet her friendship with Grant had just seemed to take hold as they’d worked on murder investigations. Besides ... when a man saves your life—

  “I’ve missed you the past couple of weeks,” he said. “No one else challenges me the way you do.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  He gave her another one of those half smiles. “I’m still trying to figure it out.”

  They both needed to figure this out. There was one way to do that—spend more time in each other’s company in a low-pressure way.

  “You could come with me to the De Luca family dinner on Easter in two weeks.”

  Now and then, he’d joined them when Vince had invited him. But now she was inviting him, and she hoped she’d made that clear.

  His brow quirked up as if he was surprised by her invitation. She thought he might make a joke or refuse, but he didn’t.

  He said, “I’ll check my calendar. If I can bring Patches, I’m pretty sure it’s clear.”

  “You know my family will enjoy Patches’ company, too.”