The Shop of Shades and Secrets (Modern Gothic Romance 1) Read Online Free Page B

lawyer?”
     
    Chris rolled her eyes but succumbed to the pressure. “I don’t know.”
     
    “At least accountants know they’re boring.”
     
    Chris chuckled, and, just as she opened her mouth to speak again, she snapped it shut. Fiona realized why when a deep voice reached her ears. “Ms. Murphy?”
     
    She looked around just as Barnaby Forth stepped into her line of vision. “Well, hello,” she greeted him, surprised that he would seek her out.
     
    “I thought that was you,” he said, smiling down at her and then at Chris. “Mind if I join you for a quick minute?”
     
    Fiona shrugged and flickered a glance at Chris, who seemed to be bursting with curiosity. “Have a seat. This is my friend Chris Nielsen. Chris, this is Barnaby Forth, the grand-nephew of Mr. Valente.”
     
    He took a seat, and the waitress was upon them in a second, obviously eager to take the order of the well-groomed, attractive man. After ordering a black coffee, he returned his attention to Fiona. “So were you out checking out your inheritance?” he asked with a grin.
     
    She felt her face warm slightly, but replied with casual aplomb, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I was. But what brings you down to South Street?” This was definitely not a place she would have expected Barnaby Forth to frequent. The Main Line, Society Hill, Chestnut Hill…maybe. But not the quirky, gothicky South Street.
     
    “I’m meeting a friend for dinner and got here a little early. When I saw you, I thought I’d take a second and say hi.”
     
    Fiona took a sip of her tea, then decided to ask the question that had been niggling at her for days. “Speaking of your great-uncle…do you know who Gretchen was?”
     
    “Gretchen?” He looked at her with genuine confusion. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”
     
    She shook her head as if to clear it, and decided to start from the beginning. “Mr. Valente left a letter for me, sort of explaining his reasoning for putting me in his will, and he mentioned someone named Gretchen. I thought she or her identity might have come up at the reading of the will on Friday, but she didn’t. I just wondered if you knew who she was because your great-uncle spoke very fondly of her in the letter.”
     
    Barnaby looked surprised. “Fondly?” He shook his head, absently glancing up to smile at the waitress who set his coffee carefully in front of him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who that could be. Frankly, I can’t imagine my great-uncle feeling fondly toward anyone.” His smile was wry as he stirred his drink—although he’d added no sugar or cream, Fiona noticed—then rested the spoon carefully on the saucer. “No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard mention of a Gretchen. Did he say anything specific about her?”
     
    Fiona took a moment to sip her own tea, wondering how much of the contents of the letter she should share. Not that there was anything that important in it, she reminded herself, but she felt odd sharing the nostalgic words from the old man. Not even H. Gideon Nath, III, knew what was in the letter. Then she shrugged again. “He didn’t say much, other than that he knew her long ago.” That was a good compromise. “Hence my questions.”
     
    “I’ll ask my mother if she knows,” he promised.
     
    “That would be great. It’s just something that bothers me a little, in a curious sort of way.” She gave him a dazzling smile and noticed interest and appreciation in his eyes.
     
    “I’ll give you a call next week,” he said. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he glanced at his Rolex and stood. “I’m sorry to be so abrupt, but I have to run now.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a money clip, flipped through several large bills to find a ten-dollar bill, and tossed it onto the table. “It was nice to see you again, and nice to have met you,” he added, looking at Chris.
     
    “Good-bye,” Fiona said, and returned her attention to Chris as he walked out of