Page 50 of A Bridge Through Time (The Bridge Through Time #1)

I zzie ducked into Perry’s Place convenience store and hurried around the cashier’s counter. She glanced at the clock, her face red as her supervisor appeared from the back office. Dang it.

Mr. Perry folded his arms, shaking his head. “You can’t keep being late, Isobel. I have a business to run.”

Her eyes darted away as she placed her magazine on the counter, grabbed her apron and put it over her head.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Perry. I had to visit with my mother this morning then I got stopped by a train.

And—” She shook her head. Excuses had never gotten her sympathy before. “It won’t happen again.”

The look on his face seemed to say he didn’t have much faith in that promise. He shook his head and returned to the back office. Luckily there wasn’t anyone in the store. On days when she was late and there was a line, he really got upset. Luckily, he hadn’t fired her yet.

Izzie leaned against the back counter and placed her hands in her apron pockets.

She really should start looking for another job.

This place barely helped her pay her rent.

And now with the bills for her mother’s care piling up, she didn’t know what she was going to do.

She’d already sold too many of her belongings.

Her chest tightened. The most recent one sliced through her the sharpest. The guitar her grandmother had given her had been the one thing that had kept her sane. But sacrifices had to be made. She was an only child, and no one was around to help out.

She looked up at the ceiling, fighting the emotion that always burned behind her eyes when she started getting down on herself.

She’d make it out alright. She always did.

Izzie glanced back to where Mr. Perry was probably hard at work balancing the till.

Her gaze slipped over to the newspaper, and she picked it up.

There was another estate sale this upcoming weekend. How had she missed it?

Izzie pulled out a pen and circled the classified listing a few times. The bell above the glass door jingled. Without looking up, she murmured. “Welcome to Perry’s Place. Let me know if I can get you anything.” The guest shuffled through the store, not speaking. Typical.

She chewed on the back of her pen and skimmed the classifieds once more. If she’d missed one, she might have missed another.

A cup of frozen soft serve slid on the counter toward her.

Izzie lifted her gaze and froze, coming face to face with him .

He wore the most infuriatingly confident smile on his face. “Hello again.”

She straightened, placing both hands on her hips. “Are you following me?”

His brows lifted and he chuckled. “I had business across the street. I saw the sign. Am I not permitted to enjoy the best soft-serve frozen yogurt in Atlanta?” He nudged the cup filled with white ice cream toward her again.

Her focus shifted to the cup, and she scoffed. “You picked vanilla? You realize we have like six flavors, right? You didn’t even get any toppings.”

Bart shrugged. “Maybe I appreciate plain.”

Her brows creased. Something about his statement rubbed her the wrong way but she didn’t have the ability to dissect the reasons at the moment. She shook her head and placed the ice cream on the small scale beside the cash register. “It will be six-eighty-three.”

He handed her a ten from his wallet. “Keep the change.”

Izzie shook her head. “I can’t. It will ruin the balance in the till.”

Bart’s smile lifted at one side. “You’re not allowed to pocket the change?”

Her face burned red and she shoved the change across the counter. “ No . I’m not a waitress. I’m a cashier.”

His eyes didn’t leave her face, making her whole body tense up. The blood coursing through her veins hummed with a strange kind of energy.

She shifted and gestured toward his ice cream. “Enjoy, come again.”

“Oh, I will.” He grabbed the cup and saluted her with his spoon.

Her eyes widened. She hadn’t meant to say that.

She didn’t want him to come again. She didn’t want him to come back ever.

Her teeth clenched, fighting the urge to call out to him and inform him of that fact.

He wasn’t a good guy, as much as he probably thought he was.

She knew better. She’d seen evidence with her own eyes.

Her gaze followed him as he headed out the door without looking back at her. Great. Now he knew where she worked. He also knew where her mother stayed. Something inside her said this wouldn’t be the last time she’d be seeing him and that notion infuriated her.

***

“Wait. Hold up. He showed up at your work ?” Olivia yanked Izzie to a stop causing a sharp pain to shoot through her arm.

Izzie yelped, rubbing where her arm felt like it had nearly been pulled from its socket. She shot Olivia a disgruntled look.

“Sorry,” her friend murmured, chagrined. “But seriously. You can’t leave it at that. Bartholomew, billionaire, just showed up at your work? Was he stalking you or something? I mean he’s still fairly new so I haven’t gotten to know him very well over at Maple Gardens. But he’s super hot and—”

“Olivia,” Izzie laughed. “You’re not even letting me get a word in edgewise.

” They wandered through the living room of the first house on her list, looking through jewelry boxes and old trinkets.

“First of all, I have no idea if he was stalking me. He said he was just in the area.” She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“But more importantly, it doesn’t matter that he’s hot.

I’d be very happy if I never saw him again. ”

“That’s too bad.”

Her eyes shot open, and she jumped. Both she and Olivia spun around to look up into a pair of brown eyes. Why oh why did this keep happening to her? She clapped her hand over her mouth, praying her face wasn’t as red as it felt. How much had he heard?

That was a stupid question. He’d probably heard the worst of it. Based on the smirk he was sporting, he was thrilled he had.

Izzie turned around and nudged Olivia’s shoulder with her own. “You have to get me out of here,” she muttered.

Her friend snorted. “Are you kidding? This is the most exciting thing that has happened to me since I can’t remember when.”

“ Olivia !” she hissed.

Her friend spun around and faced Bart, holding out her hand. “Hi, I’m Olivia. Izzie’s friend.”

Izzie refused to turn around. This was embarrassing. More than that, it was mortifying. She dug through a pile of heirlooms on the table in front of her, if only to keep her hands busy. Clearly pretending to be engaged in something other than Bart did nothing to dissuade him from sticking around.

His warm as honey voice floated around her, giving her goosebumps. “Hello, Olivia. You work at Maple Gardens? Perhaps you can explain to me why my presence irks your friend so much.”

Olivia laughed obnoxiously loud. “It might have something to do with the fact that you own the—”

Izzie elbowed Olivia with her elbow, receiving a sharp look and a grunt from her friend.

Bart raised a brow, his gaze dipping to where Olivia rubbed her side.

She smiled but it resembled a painful grimace more than anything else.

“Actually, I haven’t a clue. Sometimes she’s just mean. ” Olivia gave Izzie a pointed look.

Izzie’s blush deepened despite her best efforts to look more nonchalant about this whole weird situation she found herself in.

She folded her arms and met Bart’s gaze.

“I don’t think you can talk yourself out of this one.

I don’t know how you did it, but I know you followed me here. Are you spying on me?”

How was he so at ease? He exuded confidence despite being caught following her around town. There had to be something wrong with him.

Bart leaned toward her and she sucked in a breath as he reached for a vase that was on the table beside her. His arm brushed against hers, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps rising along her skin. She rubbed at them vigorously, her features darkening.

He turned the vase over in both his hands and flashed her a smile fit for the cover of GQ magazine. “Maybe I like collecting old things, too.”

Izzie’s eyes narrowed. “Do you actually expect me to believe that?”

Olivia jumped in before he could comment. “I believe you.”

Bart smiled at her friend this time and Izzie’s stomach tightened.

Olivia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and seemed to lean closer to Bart. “It’s so sweet of you to come visit your uncle so much. Have the two of you always been close?”

Leave it to Olivia to flirt up a storm with the devil incarnate. Izzie edged away from them as Bart launched into a conversation with her best friend. If Olivia wanted to flirt with a guy who didn’t have any morals, that was her decision. Izzie wouldn’t step in her way.

But as she put more distance between herself and the two budding love birds, she couldn’t rid herself of that strange sick feeling in her stomach. The way they were talking, the way Olivia brushed her hand up and down his upper arm was making her feel almost sick to her stomach.

It was probably something she’d eaten earlier in the day. She needed to get Bart out of her head. She was here for one thing and one thing only—to see if the deceased was in possession of her mother’s jade necklace.

There had to be more jewelry around here somewhere. This estate had boasted several pieces of fine jewelry on the listing. But all she was seeing were cheap baubles. There were brooches and gawdy earrings, too but no necklace pieces.

Just another let down.

Izzie didn’t even know if she wanted to bother going to the other estate sale she’d circled in the paper. And based on the way Olivia had abandoned her to chat with Bart, it looked like Izzie would be flying solo at this point.

She shot a look over where she’d left Olivia, finding them gone. Izzie stiffened and scanned the room. Where had they gone? This wasn’t like Olivia. Sure, she’d flirt like no one’s business. But she wouldn’t just abandon her friend.

Izzie wandered through the room toward the kitchen where there was more set up. Neither of the people she was looking for were there. Izzie’s brows furrowed until she saw the two of them chatting on the back porch.

This visit had been a bust. But Olivia had driven them, and if she wanted to leave, she’d have to go interrupt the conversation they were having.

Izzie took a deep breath, steeling herself for the very likely possibility that Bart would pull her into another humiliating conversation.

It was fine. She’d drag Olivia out to the car, they’d make one quick stop at the next place and then Olivia could text Bart and the two of them would inevitably go on a date.

That was just the way things would work out.

So why was there still this strange nausea rolling through her stomach? She didn’t even like Bart. Maybe it was simply the fact that she knew and loved Olivia. She couldn’t let her friend be dragged down by the likes of Bartholomew Brown.

Izzie stepped out onto the back porch just as Olivia got a phone call. Bart glanced at Izzie, smiling again. Ergh, that infuriating smile that could make anyone’s knees go weak. It was a weapon and it should be illegal for him to use it.

Olivia hung up her phone, her eyes darting to Izzie. The look on her face said it all.

Uh oh.

***