Falling for Fangs

Chloe

Theverynextmorning, Chloe pushed open the door of Crowley Lake Antiques. The smell of furniture wax, old books, and the hand-crafted candles favoured by the owners hit her immediately, and she breathed in the comforting scent.

“Chloe!” said a familiar voice. “We haven’t seen you in far too long!”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe apologised as Jim wheeled himself from behind the counter, one hand raised in greeting. “I’ve just been so busy.”

“You know, working too hard makes you age prematurely,” Jim chided her. “Although you don’t seem to have fallen prey to that. You’re looking lovely, my dear.”

“Thanks,” Chloe said. It was nice to receive a compliment, even from a middle-aged and very gay antique dealer. “You look well.”

“Well, Cecil keeps me young, if you know what I mean,” Jim gave her a wink, and Chloe suppressed a snort. “But I imagine you’re not here to talk about my private life. What can I do for you? A house staging?”

“Not this time,” Chloe said. “I’m looking for something in particular. It’s kind of rare, but I need to get it quickly.”

“Oooh, a challenge!” Jim rubbed his hands together, looking up at her from his wheelchair. “I do love a challenge. What are you after?”

“It’s a knife with a bronze handle and iron blade,” Chloe explained. “Made in Merthyr Tydfil. I probably pronounced that wrong.”

“I know Merthyr Tydfil’s ironworks,” Jim’s pronunciation was probably more accurate. “But I haven’t sourced from there before,” he looked thoughtful. “Cecil’s better on knives.” He turned himself around in the chair, calling to the back of the shop. “Cecil! Chloe’s here, and she needs something special!”

A moment later, Cecil appeared from the back room, resplendent in a suit made from what Chloe recognised as the Morris & Co Brer Rabbit pattern. “Chloe!” he said, smiling in welcome. “How kind of you to grace us with your presence.”

“Hi Cecil,” Chloe smiled. “Love the suit.”

“Isn’t it delightful?” Cecil gave a little twirl. “Jim says he won’t be seen with me in public, but I think we both know he can’t resist me in an Arts & Crafts print.”

“It’s ghastly,” Jim said, raising his eyebrows. “Honestly, Cecil, you look like a set of curtains. And we both know Julie Andrews is the only one who can pull that off.”

Cecil laughed delightedly. “She’s always been a muse of mine,” he declared. “How do you think I’d look in a wimple, Chloe?”

“Very fetching,” Chloe deadpanned and set them both laughing again.

“Chloe here says she needs a knife from Merthyr Tydfil,” Jim said, turning to Cecil. “What was it, a bronze blade?”

“Bronze handle, iron blade,” Chloe corrected. “It’s for a client,” she added. “He’s, uh, kind of a collector.”

“That wouldn’t happen to be the devilishly handsome American who’s just taken the Sanguis Estate, would it?” Cecil asked, looking pleased with himself.

Chloe’s mouth fell open. “How do you know about that?”

“Oh, the whole town’s talking about him,” Jim said, shrugging. “Ever since he was seen at Thelema. You know how it is here, always gossiping about strangers. Especially the good-looking ones.”

“Well, it is for him,” Chloe said. It was at least partly true. “Do you think you can get one? And fast?”

“How fast is fast?” Cecil asked, frowning and stepping behind the counter to type something into the computer.

“A week, tops,” Chloe scrunched up her face apologetically. “It’s short notice, but I’m happy to pay top dollar.”

“You’ll need to,” Cecil let out a put-upon sigh. “But I can do it. I’ve got a few contacts in that area, and one of them owes me a favour.”

“I’d be grateful,” Chloe said, feeling a wave of relief. If Cecil said he could do it, she could consider the knife as good as hers. “Like, seriously grateful.”

“You’re lucky you’re one of our favourites,” Jim said. “I take it you’re very keen to make a good impression on this Maxwell, then.”

“Well, he’s been an excellent client—” Chloe began, but Cecil cut her off.

“Oh, don’t give me that good client nonsense,” he said. “You must fancy him, at least a little. I swear to you, my heart skipped a beat when I clapped eyes on the man.” He looked down at his partner. “Sorry, darling.”

“No need to apologise,” Jim said mildly. “I’d be lying if I said the man wasn’t a walking wet dream. Do you want me to put on an American accent tonight?”

Chloe let out rather an undignified snort of laughter. “He’s a good client,” she repeated, but Jim and Cecil’s faces showed they absolutely did not believe that was all there was to it. “And maybe we’re sort of becoming…friends.” That was mostly the truth; it wasn’t like Chloe could tell them about the curse.

“Friends!” Cecil sounded disgusted. “My dear, if you’re not getting thoroughly shagged by this Maxwell in a week, I’ll be extremely disappointed in you.”

“It’s not like that!” Chloe protested, even as her brain, unhelpfully, flashed up an image of her and Maxwell doing just that. She felt a twist of heat low in her stomach at the thought, and she really hoped she wasn’t blushing.

“Well, you can be coy all you want, but I always know,” Cecil said. “Don’t I, Jim?”

“He does,” Jim said with a rueful grin. “And he’ll get you this knife for your friend.”

“Thanks,” Chloe said. “I’d better get going.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re busy.”

“But you’d better come back to see us soon,” Cecil warned her. “Or we’ll descend on you one night and force you to entertain us.”

Chloe chuckled. “I’ll be back,” she promised. As she turned to go, something caught her eye. She bent down, examining a shelf. “Mind if I take a picture of this?” she asked. “For a friend.”

“Maxwell likes poker, does he?” Cecil sounded excited. “Is he a collector? You must send him our way. Of course you can take a picture, my dear.”

Smiling, Chloe snapped a photo of the poker chips in the intricately carved wooden box. She sent it to Maxwell right away with the message; Thought you might like this. Chloe bit her lip. This wasn’t about real estate, and it wasn’t about the curse. Was she overstepping the mark? Would he think that she was interested in him? Was she?

And that wasn’t a question she currently wanted to answer, even to herself. Focus on work, she told herself. Work, and the curse.

Waving a hand to Jim and Cecil, Chloe left the shop and absolutely did not check her phone to see if Maxwell had replied.