The Butterfly and the Violin by Kristy Cambron Read Free Book Online

the girls.
    Sera watched the group. It gave her a moment alone to stir up her confidence.
    Breathe, Sera. She straightened her blazer and inhaled. It’s awkward, but not a deal breaker. If you still want to find the painting, you’ve got to go in there and convince this family that they want to help you.
    She watched as the man in the ball cap dispersed the group. He spoke to the younger guy and tossed a nod her way. Were they talking about her? The girls snatched up baskets overflowing with French peonies and scurried away as if their apron tails were on fire.
    When he walked back up to her, she asked, “What did you say to him?”
    He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck and turned toward the younger man who’d moved to the front stoop. “I suggested that he might be better served seeing our guest into the house if he couldn’t keep his mind on his work.”
    Sera tilted her head toward the tent and frowned. “No one told me that there would be, well, this going on. I would have scheduled a better time for the Hanovers.”
    “What, that?” He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. There’s always something going on around here.”
    “Yes, well,” she answered, her hand going back to the bottom of her bag. He smiled as she continued digging.
    “Not exactly ready for a day at the beach, are you?”
    Sera looked down at her tailored black suit and then back up at him. “You mean to say I look like I’m from New York?”
    “Not at all, Miss James. Just an observation. How about we show you around, since you’re here on estate business.”
    “Um, are you the gardener?”
    “Sometimes.” He chuckled under his breath and tipped the brim of his ball cap as he walked away. “Go on in, Manhattan. The guy on the porch is Paul. I told him about you, and he’s waiting to give you the dime tour.”

    “Paul!” A lovely blonde sailed down the spiral staircase the moment they walked through the door. She darted into his arms and he welcomed her, hugging her tight as they turned in circles. She was a tiny flip of a thing, petite and with a youthful glow that couldn’t have put her at more than twenty years.
    “Macie!”
    “I didn’t know you were going to be here this early. We expected you tomorrow.” The young woman beamed at him and pecked a kiss to his cheek. “No one told me a thing.”
    “Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise,” he teased, and flipped the sunny waves that bounced over her shoulder. “When did this happen?”
    Macie grabbed the back of her hair and shrugged. “The first second Mom had her back turned, I had it all chopped off.”
    “And how’d our dear mother take it?”
    “Like a champ.” The girl winked at him. “She only cried for a half hour before she was calling the stylist with the new short-haired bridal theme. She had to reorder the flowers and change the neckline of the bridesmaids’ dresses at the last minute, but it’s kept her occupied at the very least.”
    “I’m surprised she’s still talking to you after that stunt.”
    “Nah,” she said, and waved him off. “I’m still in her good graces, don’t forget, because at least I’m getting married. That means someday, Eric and I will give her grandkids and you’ll still be all alone in that Boston apartment of yours.”
    He coughed rather uncomfortably and quickly stood aside, exposing Sera to the bride’s sparkling, dimpled smile.
    “Macie, this here is . . . Manhattan. She flew in from New York for the occasion. Manhattan, this is my sister—our bride.”
    The young bride looked shocked. Her eyes popped open a little wider and she grinned from ear to ear.
    “Really.” Macie turned to Sera, who’d been eyeing the front door as an escape route. That plan was dashed now that the bride was smiling and checking her out from top to bottom. “Your date, Paul?”
    “Nope,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “Here on estate business. I have orders to give her a tour of the house.”
    Macie