Key of Knowledge (Key 2) - Page 81

She laughed at herself. “Im not giving myself a very glowing recommendation.”

“You like to read?”

“Give me a book and a couple hours of quiet, and alls right with the world. Im also good with people, and Im not looking for a big salary. My husband has a good job, and were secure, but Id like to pull in a little of my own. And Id like to do something to earn it that doesnt have anything to do with laundry, cooking, or browbeating an eleven-year-old into picking up his room.”

“I find those excellent qualifications in a potential employee. Why dont you come by the building sometime. Its the house with the blue porch. You can take a look at the place, and well talk some more.”

“This is great. I will. Wow.” She let out a laugh. “Im so happy I ran into you. It mustve been fate.”

Fate, Dana mused when theyd parted ways. She hadnt been giving enough credit to fate. Needing to restock her pantry had brought her here, to the dairy section of her local supermarket.

A small thing, she thought as she continued through the aisles. An everyday sort of thing. But hadnt it put her here at just the right moment? Bumped her right into a woman who might become another spoke on the wheel of her life?

And more than that. Shed bumped into the woman whod said exactly what shed needed to hear.

You found the right key to turn in his head.

Was it just coincidence that Joanne had used that phrase? Dana wasnt going to blow it off as coincidence. No, her key—the right key—was knowledge.

She would find it, Dana promised herself. She would find it by keeping her mind open.

Chapter Thirteen

IN Danas opinion, there were a lot of things you could say about Bradley Charles Vane IV.

He was fun, smart, and great to look at. He could, depending on his mood and the circumstances, present a polished, urbane image that made her think of James Bond ordering a vodka martini in Monte Carlo—and then turn on a dime and become a complete goofball ready to spray seltzer down your pants.

He could discuss French art films with the passion of a man who didnt require the subtitles, and be just as fervent in a debate over whether ElmerFudd or Yosemite Sam was a more worthy adversary for Bugs.

Those were just some of the things she loved about Brad.

Another was his house.

Townerscalled it the Vane House, or the River House, and indeed it had been both for more than four decades.

Brads father had built it, a testimony to the lumber that formed the foundation of the Vane empire. Using that lumber, and with a skilled eye for the surroundings, B. C. Vane III had created both the simple and the spectacular.

The golden frame house spread along the riverbank, edging itself with spacious decks and charming terraces. There were a number of rooflines and angles, all of them balanced into a creative harmony that showcased the beauty of wood.

It offered lovely views of the river or the trees or the clever hodgepodge of gardens.

It wasnt the sort of place you looked at and thought, Money. Rather, you thought, Wow.

Shed spent some time there, tagging along after Flynn when she was a kid and tagging along with Jordan when she was older. It was a place where shed always felt comfortable. It seemed to her it had been created with comfort as its first priority and style running a close second.

Another thing you could say about Brad, she decided, was that he didnt skimp on the refreshments when he had a gathering.

It wasnt anything fancy, at least it wasnt presented that way. Just some sort

of incredible pasta salad that made her contemplate going back for more, a lot of interesting finger food, ham slices, and some dense, dark bread for sandwich making.

There was a round of Brie skirted by fat red raspberries, and crackers nearly thin enough to see through that crunched with satisfying delicacy at every bite.

There was beer, there was wine, there were soft drinks and bottled water.

She already knew she wasnt going to resist the mini cream puffs mounded in a tempting island on a platter the size of New Jersey.

All this was spread out casually in the great room, where a fire snapped and sizzled and the furniture was the kind you could happily sink into for weeks at a time.

Tags: Nora Roberts Key Fantasy
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