decorative glass as well as a few pieces of wooden furniture at the back. Maybe she’d find something truly valuable hidden among the junk and be able to surprise Lauren.
She spotted an old wooden pie safe painted an awful aqua blue and made her way toward it. It stood about five feet tall and about forty inches wide. The chipped and peeling paint would have to go, but underneath she suspected she’d find beautiful wood. She ran her hand over the decorative design punched in one of the front tin panels and admired the repeated heart pattern.
“That’s a real beauty.” A man wearing a beige hat decorated with several fishing lures stepped forward. His proud stance announced he was the owner of the pie safe and all the other second-hand treasures on display. “That’s a genuine antique, not one of those shoddy reproductions,” he added with a lift of his gray eyebrows.
“Yes, I can see that.” She reached for the drawer handle. “Mind if I take a peek?”
“No, go right ahead.” He stepped back, watching her, his old brown eyes alight with interest.
She pulled open the drawer and inspected the inside. The dovetail corners looked sturdy and well made. The tin panels were in good condition with only a few minor dents. Lauren had a similar piece in the gallery, and though this one was smaller, she knew if it were refinished it would be worth three to four hundred, maybe more. She looked up and caught the vendor’s eye. “How much are you asking?”
He squinted and pressed his lips together. “Well, I don’t think I can let it go for less than three hundred.”
Jenn released a wistful sigh. So much for finding a bargain. The man obviously knew the value of antiques.
“Come on, Denny, you know it’s not worth half that much.”
Jenn turned and found Bill standing behind a few feet away. A dizzy current raced through her. How long had he been there? Evidently long enough to catch her conversation about the pie safe.
Bill winked then moved closer and ran his hand along the peeling paint on the top edge. “It’s all scratched up. She’d have to refinish it.”
Denny chuckled. “What are you trying to do? Run me out of business?”
Bill retuned a lazy grin. “No, I’m just not sure Jenn knows she’s supposed to dicker with you.”
“She’s a friend of yours?”
“Yes, she is, so you better treat her right.” Bill turned to her. “Jennifer Evans, this is Denny Tremont, owner of The Second Time Around in West Harmon.”
Jenn smiled and shook Denny’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same here.” He crossed his arms and studied her with a serious gaze. “Now, if you want the pie safe, you have to make me a counter offer.”
Jenn bit her lip, trying to figure out the game. “Well, I only have—”
Bill held up his hand. “First rule in dickering—never tell him how much you have.”
Though she liked to shop for bargains, she didn’t like to haggle with anyone over the price. She sent Bill a questioning look.
“You’re supposed to make him an offer that’s lower than you’re willing to pay, knowing you’ll have to come up a little as he comes down.”
Jenn mentally counted the money in her pocket then shifted her gaze to Denny. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars.”
Denny laughed. “You’re kidding, right? No way will I let it go for less than two hundred and fifty.”
That stopped her for a moment. Then she realized she’d made Denny come down fifty dollars, and she grinned at Bill. Straightening her shoulders, she focused on Denny. “It’s going to take me a long time to scrape off that old paint. And it’ll cost a lot to buy the supplies I need to refinish it. I don’t think I want to pay more than one seventy-five.”
Denny studied her and rubbed his chin. “Well, since you’re a friend of Bill’s I could come down to two twenty-five, but that’s as low as I’m gonna’ go.”
Jenn glanced at Bill. She didn’t have that much. Was that the end of the
She spotted an old wooden pie safe painted an awful aqua blue and made her way toward it. It stood about five feet tall and about forty inches wide. The chipped and peeling paint would have to go, but underneath she suspected she’d find beautiful wood. She ran her hand over the decorative design punched in one of the front tin panels and admired the repeated heart pattern.
“That’s a real beauty.” A man wearing a beige hat decorated with several fishing lures stepped forward. His proud stance announced he was the owner of the pie safe and all the other second-hand treasures on display. “That’s a genuine antique, not one of those shoddy reproductions,” he added with a lift of his gray eyebrows.
“Yes, I can see that.” She reached for the drawer handle. “Mind if I take a peek?”
“No, go right ahead.” He stepped back, watching her, his old brown eyes alight with interest.
She pulled open the drawer and inspected the inside. The dovetail corners looked sturdy and well made. The tin panels were in good condition with only a few minor dents. Lauren had a similar piece in the gallery, and though this one was smaller, she knew if it were refinished it would be worth three to four hundred, maybe more. She looked up and caught the vendor’s eye. “How much are you asking?”
He squinted and pressed his lips together. “Well, I don’t think I can let it go for less than three hundred.”
Jenn released a wistful sigh. So much for finding a bargain. The man obviously knew the value of antiques.
“Come on, Denny, you know it’s not worth half that much.”
Jenn turned and found Bill standing behind a few feet away. A dizzy current raced through her. How long had he been there? Evidently long enough to catch her conversation about the pie safe.
Bill winked then moved closer and ran his hand along the peeling paint on the top edge. “It’s all scratched up. She’d have to refinish it.”
Denny chuckled. “What are you trying to do? Run me out of business?”
Bill retuned a lazy grin. “No, I’m just not sure Jenn knows she’s supposed to dicker with you.”
“She’s a friend of yours?”
“Yes, she is, so you better treat her right.” Bill turned to her. “Jennifer Evans, this is Denny Tremont, owner of The Second Time Around in West Harmon.”
Jenn smiled and shook Denny’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same here.” He crossed his arms and studied her with a serious gaze. “Now, if you want the pie safe, you have to make me a counter offer.”
Jenn bit her lip, trying to figure out the game. “Well, I only have—”
Bill held up his hand. “First rule in dickering—never tell him how much you have.”
Though she liked to shop for bargains, she didn’t like to haggle with anyone over the price. She sent Bill a questioning look.
“You’re supposed to make him an offer that’s lower than you’re willing to pay, knowing you’ll have to come up a little as he comes down.”
Jenn mentally counted the money in her pocket then shifted her gaze to Denny. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars.”
Denny laughed. “You’re kidding, right? No way will I let it go for less than two hundred and fifty.”
That stopped her for a moment. Then she realized she’d made Denny come down fifty dollars, and she grinned at Bill. Straightening her shoulders, she focused on Denny. “It’s going to take me a long time to scrape off that old paint. And it’ll cost a lot to buy the supplies I need to refinish it. I don’t think I want to pay more than one seventy-five.”
Denny studied her and rubbed his chin. “Well, since you’re a friend of Bill’s I could come down to two twenty-five, but that’s as low as I’m gonna’ go.”
Jenn glanced at Bill. She didn’t have that much. Was that the end of the
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