If You Must Know (Potomac Point #1)(36)

Eli held up his hand. “Okay, okay. It’s your collection.” He looked almost like he was stifling a smile, although he had nothing to smile about. The poor guy was out several grand. I shouldn’t feel guilty about that, but I did.

He turned to Rodri. “I had no idea the guy didn’t own the albums, Officer. He seemed more desperate than devious.”

A fair observation of Max.

“I believe you.” Rodri waved away Eli’s concern about being arrested. “Unfortunately, you do have to give them back. But you can file charges against the guy who sold them to you, and you can file a lawsuit to get your money back.”

“That’d probably cost me as much in lawyers’ fees as I’m out.” Eli shrugged.

I narrowed my eyes. He seemed way too relaxed about letting thousands of dollars disappear. “What did Max charge you, if you don’t mind telling me?”

“Fifteen hundred dollars.” Eli stared at me as if waiting for a reaction, and he got one, no doubt.

I raised my arms with a glare intended for Max, who wasn’t even there. “That idiot. Seriously . . .”

Rodri looked at me. “Are they worth that much more?”

Eli and I simultaneously said yes and then stopped and looked at each other.

“I could probably get close to five grand for the collection of those ones I named,” I said, suddenly aware that Eli’s gaze was traveling from my boots up my legs. “The rest aren’t expensive, but they’re old favorites . . . reminders—”

“You might get seven for the whole collection,” Eli interrupted.

“So then, one could say—in a way—you knew you’d gotten a steal, huh?” That came out flirtier than intended or appropriate, and Eli’s slow smile stirred a slight flutter.

With a half shrug, he said, “Let me grab them for you.”

“Need a hand?” Rodri asked.

“Sure.” Eli held open the screen door.

“I’ll help, too.” I stepped inside without an invitation, eager to see my babies. Eli didn’t object.

His place smelled homey—like coffee and fresh bread—maybe with a hint of pine. Hardwood floors and oak wainscot added an extra cozy warmth. Mo would love to curl up on that comfy-looking garnet-colored sofa and stare out the window, though the rest of the furnishings were unremarkable. Eli kept his home neat, but not in the sterile way I could feel in my sister’s clean house. But what struck me most were the guitars. At least six that I could see: four acoustic, two electric.

Lots of people thought they had stuff to say, but artists—creative people—actually dug into the big questions about life and love. Maybe I hoped hanging out with them would reveal answers I still hadn’t found. I wondered what Eli could teach me, then reminded myself of my quest to figure out my own life.

Eli couldn’t teach me squat about myself, so I’d simply be grateful that the decent man with a beautiful face was handing me back my property without a fight.

“Over here.” Eli motioned for us to follow him to the dining room, where the albums remained neatly placed on the floor as if awaiting a permanent home. I teared up with relief.

We each hefted a crate and marched them out to the squad car and carefully set them in the trunk.

Rodri shook Eli’s hand first. “Thanks for cooperating. You should file some kind of report or claim, even if only in small-claims court.”

I didn’t disagree, but I also didn’t want Eli to waste his time or more money. “I hate to say it, but Max is broke, so even if Eli got a judgment, I doubt he’d see any money. Max gambled and lost the money he got from the sale.” I grimaced. “Sorry.”

Eli nodded, looking at me with that half smile, like nothing about this was worth getting too upset about. “It’s fine. It’s half my fault. Like you said, I should’ve asked more questions when he charged me so little.”

I stuck my hand out, admiring him for being a stand-up guy during a week when it’d be easy to give up on men. “Thank you for making this easy on me. I’m beyond relieved to get them back but feel terrible leaving you with nothing. I don’t have money, but I make bath products—all organic—and I teach yoga. If you want free soaps or yoga instruction, I’m your girl. Call me anytime. My name is Erin Turner.”

When I caught Rodri’s eyes rolling upward, heat rose in my cheeks. I hadn’t meant to be so eager.

Eli grabbed my outstretched hand with both of his. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Everything about his manner put me at ease. In a way, his calm acceptance reminded me of my father.

“I need to get back to the station.” Rodri tugged at my arm.

My stubborn legs resisted, but Rodri had been a good friend today, so I forced myself to comply.

“Bye!” My voice sounded like a seventh grader with a terrible crush. Good God, how humiliating.

As Rodri drove away, I found myself humming “Here Comes the Sun” for no particular reason. No doubt this day would make its way into Mom’s memory jar. An unexpected good memory in the middle of a lousy week.

This had to be a sign—a good sign.

Things would get better for my sister and me.

I just knew it.





CHAPTER SEVEN

AMANDA