Dior or Die (Joanna Hayworth Vintage Clothing Mysteries Book 2) by Angela M. Sanders Read Free Book Online Page B

everywhere. The bark's sappy, too. I can't tell you how many times I got up a tree then realized it was going to be a painful scrape down." She let out a long breath. "That's how I feel now."
    "You mean with Vivienne's clothes, or the nuns?"
    "All of it." Joanna longed for a Martini. She wished for the hundredth time Paul drank. "I guess I could try calling the police station at a different time. Maybe I'd get someone who would tell me something I could use for the nuns. I need to borrow those dresses." She imagined Clary looking at her with a "What did I tell you, she'll never come through, we should have gone with Eve to begin with" look.  
    "I have to admit I'm kind of worried about money, too," Joanna added.  
    Paul put down the hand plane and plucked a piece of sawdust from her hair. "Why don't you let me help you?"
    "You? You’re as broke as I am."
    He returned to the workbench and picked up a sheet of sandpaper. He focused on the table leg. "Money isn’t everything. Besides, we could move in together. I could set up my shop in your garage."
    Joanna lifted her head. This was new. Paul smoothed the angle of the table leg and turned it slightly. Her house was no palace but plenty big for two people. And he was right about the garage—it was large, and with some insulation and a little more electrical work it might make a decent workshop. This was a lot to take in.
    "You surprise me," she finally replied.
    "Just something to think about." He didn't seem bothered by her lack of an immediate "yes." He set the table leg down and wiped the sawdust from his hands. "I might be able to help you with money, though. It looks like I'll be starting a new project soon, a big one."
    "Oh, really? Doing what?"
    "Building some cabinets for an office. The woman running the project wants it really high end: a built-in desk, some bookshelves, and a full-wall wardrobe—plus all the trim in the room. Lots of Myrtlewood. The wood alone is going to cost a fortune, but it will be great to work with. Should keep me busy for at least a month."
    "Sounds perfect. What kind of office?" Trim and cabinet work were Paul's specialties. He loved restoring older pieces, but it was rare he had the chance to build fine cabinets from scratch.
    "She said it's some sort of consulting business where she finds things people want. Sounds like she's done a lot of scouting for people in New York already. You know, first edition books, fancy lamps, whatever. She even scouts for vintage clothes. There's one thing, though."
    "What?"
    He picked up his file again. "It's Eve Lancer."
    Joanna's leg dropped to the floor. "You can't work for her."  
    "Why not?" He drew the file along the mahogany. "She's not selling vintage clothing anymore—well, not exclusively vintage clothing, anyway."
    "You know my history with her. She tried to run Tallulah’s Closet out of business last year. Remember? She tried to buy Vivienne's clothes out from under me, too."
    "But she never did open that store. And as for the auction, the idea is that people compete with each other to buy things, right?"
    "Yes, but—"
    "You don't think she'd skip out on paying me or anything?"
    "No, she has plenty of money, but—"
    "But what?"
    Joanna fidgeted. What could she say? That Eve had something personal against her? That maybe she'd even enjoy stealing Paul away?  
    "You're jealous," Paul said. Joanna stared in reply. "You don't have any reason to be. You know that." He strode to the far end of the workshop near the kitchen. He placed his hands on the counter, then turned to face her. Joanna watched nervously. "I need the money and Eve needs the work. I have to take this job, Joanna. You get that, right?"
    She opened her mouth to reply, but thought better. "Yes. I understand."  
    The room was silent for a minute except for the clicking of Gemma's toenails as she crossed the cement floor to her water dish. Joanna stood and put her arms around Paul. He kissed the top of her head. His chest