â
âHuh?â
âThat attitude about winning that we discussed a moment ago. Itâs possible that your father decided that persuading me to go out with him was a sort of game. He wanted to win, so he kept calling me until I said yes.â
âOh.â Carson gave that some thought and then shook his head. âNah. I donât think thatâs how it is with him. Dad says he doesnât like people who play games.â
âNeither do I.â Resolutely she turned back to the floor plan. âI think that the house pictures would look good on the two panels in the center of the room. What do you think?â
The door of the gallery opened. She looked up quickly, expecting to see Nick returning from the mail run. But it was Jeremy Seaton who strolled into the showroom.
He was good-looking in an angular way. His light-brown hair was cut in a close, conservative style as befitted a member of the institute staff. His clothes were left over from his days in academia: khaki trousers, an open-throated, button-down shirt, and expensive-looking loafers.
âGood morning, Jeremy. Something tells me youâve heard about the Upsall.â
âYep. Couldnât resist coming by to see it for myself.â He gave her a quick, easy smile and then looked at Carson. âI know you. Youâre Nick Harteâs son, right? Youâre looking more like your dad every day. Iâll bet you donât remember me. We havenât seen much of each other in the last couple of years. Iâm Jeremy Seaton.â
Carson shook his head. âI donât remember.â
âFigured you wouldnât. Well, it doesnât matter. Your dad and I used to hang out together a lot in the old days.â
Carson looked intrigued. âYou knew Dad when he was a kid?â
âSure did. We played some baseball together. And when we got a little older we also played a little pool down at the Total Eclipse.â
âWhat else did you do?â Carson asked eagerly.
Jeremy stroked his jaw, looking thoughtful. âAs I recall, we spent an inordinate amount of time cruising up and down Bayview Drive on Friday and Saturday nights showing off our cars and trying to get girls to look at us. Wasnât a whole lot to do here in Eclipse Bay in those days.â
âStill isnât, as far as I can tell,â Nick said from the doorway. âHello, Jeremy. Been a while.â
Octavia could have sworn that the temperature in the gallery plummeted at least twenty or thirty degrees. There was a definite chill in the air.
Jeremy lowered his hand and turned around with a deliberate air and a politely bland expression. âHarte.â His tone remained civil, but all the warmth had leached out of it. âHeard you were in town for the summer.â
âHeard youâve taken up full-time residence and got yourself a job at the institute,â Nick said in a voice that was equally lacking in inflection. âGiving up the academic life for good?â
The gallery was flooded with toxic levels of testosterone. Nick and Jeremy might have been good friends in the past, Octavia thought, but something had gone very wrong somewhere along the line.
âThought Iâd try something a little different,â Jeremy said. âEveryone needs a change once in a while. Howâs the writing going?â
âSwell.â
âRumor at the post office this morning is that youâre planning to use Octavia here to help with some in-depth research for your next book,â Jeremy said coolly.
âYouâve lived in Eclipse Bay long enough to know better than to listen to post office gossip.â
âI sure wouldnât want to think that there was any truth to the rumors I heard today.â
âWhen you get right down to it, it doesnât much matter if thereâs any truth to them or not,â Nick said. âEither way, itâs none of your business.â
Confusion
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