Rochelle Alers - Sweet Silver Bells

“Are you kidding?” Joseph couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice. “I clerked for him for a year before joining my family’s business.”

Crystal couldn’t stop her hand from shaking as a shiver of unease eddied up her back, making her more than apprehensive. She did not want to believe she was indirectly connected to a man she’d met less than twenty-four hours ago. “You’re a lawyer.” The query was a statement of fact.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“And you’re certain it was my uncle you clerked for?”

“Yes,” Joseph said emphatically. “We happen to be fraternity brothers.”

She ran a hand over her short hair. Her uncle had pledged Alpha Phi as a Howard University undergraduate. “This is much too weird. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were stalking me.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Joseph gave her a direct stare. “I can assure you that I’m not stalking you. In fact, I didn’t know you existed before last night. And the name Eaton isn’t that common. And with you being from Florida, I just assumed you were related.”

His former boss had distinguished himself as a federal prosecutor before he was appointed to the bench, and still held the distinction of presiding over more drug cases than any other U.S. attorney in south Florida’s history. He indicted a drug kingpin, several traffickers responsible for high-end deals and midlevel dealers caught with large amounts of cocaine and marijuana.

“Solomon Eaton is my uncle,” she confirmed. And he was also Levi, Jesse and Carson’s father.

Reaching into the breast pocket of his blazer, Joseph retrieved his cell phone. “I’ll call a car service while you call your cousin.”

Walking away to put some distance between them, Crystal turned her back, tapping the screen for Xavier’s number. “Good morning, Crystal,” Selena answered in greeting.

“Good morning to you, too,” she replied. “Selena, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you up on your offer to hang out with you guys earlier than I’d anticipated.” She told her cousin’s wife about her aborted meeting with the hotel owner and having to evacuate the hotel because of a fire situation. “I hope you don’t mind if I stop by for breakfast.”

“Crystal, please. You know you don’t have to ask.”

“I’m asking because I’m bringing someone with me.”

“That’s not a problem. I was just preparing brunch for Xavier. He doesn’t have classes until this afternoon. I’ll hold off cooking until you guys get here.”

“Thanks, Selena.”

Crystal ended her call at the same time Joseph ended his. “My cousin says you’re welcome to come with me.”

He smiled. “Thank you. The car should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

Staring at him in the bright sunlight, she noticed flecks of gray in his coarse, cropped black hair. Crystal doubted whether he was that much older than she, which meant he was graying prematurely. She also wondered how many times Joseph came to Charleston on business for him to have had a local car service programmed into his phone.

There was so much more she wanted to know about him, yet was reluctant to ask. She just wasn’t prepared to accept any more revelations. And because he knew her uncle, there was also the possibility he had been familiar with her aunt and cousins.

She wrapped her arms around her body as much to ward off the morning chill as to protect herself from someone she wasn’t prepared to possibly become involved.

What-ifs nagged at her like exposed, inflamed nerves. If her mother hadn’t had a meltdown delaying her arrival, she would’ve spent the night with her cousins instead of the Beaumont House. If Algernon hadn’t had a family emergency, she would have shared a table with him instead of Joseph. Now she was exacerbating the situation by inviting him to meet her cousins.

Crystal didn’t get the overt vibe that Joseph was coming onto her, but even if he was, she knew his efforts would be fruitless, and not because she had qualms about establishing a friendship with a man.

Her sole focus was the exclusive commission to decorate the historical structures with exquisite antiques and reproductions. She’d spent months in furniture warehouses and at estate sales looking for pieces with which to decorate a nineteenth-century Lowcountry residence. It wasn’t just furniture she’d sought but also accessories, including candlesticks, vases, rugs, apothecary jars, clocks, linens, teapots and other collectibles.

She’d recommended Algernon rent a storage unit. Several pieces she had purchased at an estate sale were carefully wrapped, crated and shipped to him at the Beaumont House, where he arranged for them to be stored in the unit that was quickly filling up with sets of china and silver. Once she inspected the restored buildings, Crystal would be faced with what to put into each room. And in keeping with the time period, she’d planned for the walls to be covered with wallpaper, tapestries or even fabric.

She was anxious to begin her first significant commission.

“A dollar for your thoughts.”

Joseph’s soft, drawling voice shattered her reverie. Smiling, she turned to face him. “I thought it was a penny.”

“That was before inflation,” he countered. Slipping out of his jacket, he placed it over Crystal’s shoulders. “You look cold.”

Tugging on the lapels, she inhaled the cologne clinging to the cashmere fibers. “Thank you, but aren’t you going to be cold?” She had on a suit, while he was in his shirtsleeves.

“No. After spending so many winters in upstate New York with lake-effect snow, I rarely feel cold.”

“When I was here last January it was much warmer than it is now.”

“Last year was unusually warm.” Joseph stared at Crystal’s distinctive delicate profile. “Did you bring winter clothes with you?”

Crystal nodded. “Yes. However, I didn’t expect to stand outside when I got dressed this morning.” Her wool gabardine pantsuit wasn’t adequate for the low-forties temperature. As someone who lived in Florida year-round, anything below fifty degrees was cool to her.

A Lincoln Town Car maneuvered up to the curb, and Joseph, resting his hand at Crystal’s waist, led her to the rear of the limo as the driver alighted. “I’ll get the door, Mr. Wilson,” the chauffeur called out.

Joseph stepped back, permitting the driver to open the rear door. Crystal got in first, and he followed, sitting beside her on the leather seat. Waiting until the man was seated behind the wheel once again, she gave him the address to her cousin’s house.

Sitting close to Crystal, feeling her feminine heat and inhaling the hypnotic scent of her perfume was a bonus Joseph hadn’t anticipated when he suggested they share a table.

The ride was much too short when the driver stopped in front of a classic example of a Charleston single house. The wrought-iron and stone pinecones atop ornate brick gates guarded the three-story structure with tall, narrow black-shuttered windows and first-and second-story white porches. The street address and 1800, the year the house was erected, were engraved into a brass plate affixed to one of the brick gate columns.

“Nice,” Joseph crooned sotto voce. The house was surrounded by palmetto trees and several ancient oaks draped in Spanish moss.

Crystal smiled. His reaction was similar to her own when she first saw Xavier’s house. “Wait until you see inside.” Selena had decorated the interiors in an iconic Lowcountry style.

The driver came around to open the door and Joseph stepped out, extended his hand and assisted Crystal until she stood beside him. Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he removed a money clip, peeling off a bill and handing it to the man. “I’ll need you to take us back to the Beaumont House later this afternoon.”