The mayor’s gaze fell on the porcelain vase filled with dark red roses, but quickly wandered back to the woman’s feminine, if slim, figure.
“You’re staring, Mayor.” The mayor looked up, caught, but did not meet the lawyer’s gaze. “And I know you don’t trust me, but I don’t think I would work for the town if I had bad intentions for its residents.”
Maybe she did not have bad intentions, though the mayor wasn’t quite sure about that. But the lawyer’s clan head and his sons...
“The clan has changed,” the young lawyer continued. “Treaties were signed for this two centuries ago.” Her look was serious. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to be in New York tonight. My plane leaves in an hour.”
The lawyer folded up a folder, shoved it into her black leather handbag, reached for her black silk coat and the black fedora hat, and strutted confidently through the office on her high heels, past the mayor.
The footsteps linger throughout the attorney’s office. However, they moved into the subconscious as the mayor’s gaze slid through the English-style office, finally lingering on the vase.
The DeLoughrey seal was displayed in gold on the black porcelain. It featured a full rose blossom framed by a baroque crest.
Chapter 5
Bayla
After I had packed my relatively small stock of laundry into the much too large closet, I folded the suitcase shut and looked at the other suitcase. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a bookshelf in this room. I guess I would have to ask Mum if I could get one because books definitely didn’t belong on the floor. However, they had to put up with just that space until then.
One by one, I unpacked each book and stacked them next to the window. A place where I would spend a lot of time with my Canterbury Classics over the next few days, because what else could I do in a small town that was completely unfamiliar to me?
After I finished stacking books, I packed both suitcases into the remaining free part of the closet, wondering for the third time today who it had once belonged to.
When I left, I would pack them in the trunk, because there was no question of this Julian helping us again. Mum and I would manage on our own. Just as always.
A glance at my alarm clock told me that it was time for dinner. Already for half an hour, it smelled of delicious food in the house, and my stomach growled insatiably. I hadn’t eaten in what felt like forever, even though it had only been six hours since I had devoured a damn good cheese sandwich. My mouth watered at the thought.
On my way out, I picked up my toiletry bag, which I still had to take to the bathroom.
My eyes fell on the last two doors in the hallway that I didn’t know. One of them had to lead to a bathroom. I decided on the one next to my room and took a step toward it to push down the handle. Carefully, I entered the darkened room and flicked on the light switch.
Of course, it wasn’t the bathroom. Instead, I had landed in another bedroom.
In terms of floor plan, it looked exactly like mine, except it had more furniture, which was surprisingly filled with stuff. In the middle of the room, like mine, was a wooden bed. The sheets on it were covered by a midnight blue bedspread. There was a bedside table with picture frames, a desk, and lots of books lying all over the place that instantly caught my interest.
They seemed to be very old copies. In addition, there were ceiling-high bookshelves filled with more books and pictures on the walls.
I immediately felt at home in this room. Everything looked so friendly and inviting... Almost as if someone lived here.
Curious, I went further in and ran my finger over the spines of the books. A tingling sensation ran through my fingers, and I held my breath, savoring the moment.
I had no idea that Mum used to have such a soft spot for books in her student days. And also, for this kind of literature. Titles like Wuthering Heights or Bleak House graced the shelf. But it didn’t just have authors like Charles Dickens or Emily Brontë lining the massive wooden panels of the shelf. Apparently, my mother had once found interest in the works of Jane Austen. A first edition of Pride and Prejudice lay on the nightstand to my left, and I recognized it immediately. A classic. I didn’t even want to know how much these books were all worth here.
Intrigued, I reached for the copy next to it, The Secret History by Donna Tartt, and opened it. The pages were a bit yellowed, and I spotted brown coffee stains in the margins.
Whoever read this book had been a very careless coffee drinker. Mum didn’t drink coffee, so it couldn’t have been her.
I was surprised that my mother had never told me about her book collection, although she definitely knew about my love of literature, especially the classics.
I would take her up on it, preferably right now at dinner.
As I was about to put the book away again, a vintage yellowed letter fell out of the last pages of the book.
I examined the paper that had fallen to the floor.
For Alice was written in scrawly ink on the delicately decorated envelope.
Alice? Who was Alice?
Perhaps the previous renter? Or a former student who had found accommodation here? Or perhaps a pseudonym for my mother?
“Bay, darling! Dinner’s ready. Are you coming down?” my mother’s voice rang out from the kitchen.
“Yes! I’ll be right down,” I answered frantically, shoving the letter into my back pocket. For later. Even though it might not have been any of my business... I had found it in our house, and it was not officially addressed to my mother...so?
I reached for the handle to follow the tantalizing smell of good food, but then my eyes grazed a picture frame in the corner of the back bookshelf. Pictured were three young women with their arms draped over their shoulders.
I paused because I immediately recognized that the woman on the right was my mother. She must have been around twenty years old at the time the picture was taken. I had never seen her at that age, but the straight nose and fine jawline... Unmistakable.
I had to smile. As expected, no biker jacket.
Her golden blonde hair was a little longer, and she wore glasses. By now, she had acquired contact lenses. But wow, she looked damn pretty in this picture. And happy... So did the other two women.
In the middle was a young, pretty woman with brown shoulder-length waves and turquoise eyes. Her smiling mouth elicited gentle dimples. In general, you could tell she looked very attractive, with her heart-shaped pale face. Surely, she must have had as many admirers as Larissa.
On the left, another beautiful woman leaned against the shoulders of the woman in the middle. Her ash blonde hair was straight and long, and her eyes had to be very bright. Almost ice blue. Her pretty face looked doll-like.
