Wilde For You (The Wilde Sisters Book 3) (16 page)

“I owe some people a lot of money.”

“How much?”

“Ten thousand dollars.”

“Holy shit.” Sage sat back and tried to compose herself. “Do I want to know why?”

“No.”

“But you’re going to tell me if you want my help.”

“How can you help me with this?” Lucy jumped up and pulled her backpack off her shoulders, unzipping the inside pocket. “I’ve been working every shift at the art store I can get and after taxes, this is all I have.” She pulled out a few hundred dollar bills.

“When do you need the money by?”

Lucy shoved the money back in her bag and slumped to the floor. “Today.”

Blowing out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, Sage tilted her head toward the ceiling and sighed. She had to help. The poor girl reminded her so much of herself at that age. Angry. Bitter toward the world. Not having anyone to turn to.

Hell, she reminded Sage of herself today. Lucy had a wonderful, supporting family she could lean on. Why she chose not to, Sage didn’t know, but she understood the need for independence.

She remembered what it was like working full time and raising her sisters, her parents nowhere around. Every dime went to support Rayne and Thyme’s college and extracurricular activities. She and Rayne earned academic scholarships and were able to take out loans to cover the cost of school while Thyme bounced between various community colleges, not knowing what path to take.

Sage felt more stress about Thyme’s lack of commitment than Thyme did; thankfully it all worked out in the end. Still, she remembered the emotional burden of taking care of the family. And while Lucy didn’t have to worry about supporting anyone but herself, she obviously harbored a lot of guilt about not living up to the Riley expectations.

Sage had always wished she’d had a mentor. A teacher or a boss or an elderly neighbor who could have helped guide her through life. Instead she taught herself, taught her sisters, and came out okay in the end.

Being a mentor to someone else had never interested her before, never even crossed her mind. Yet one look at the pink-haired, pierced, skinny Goth girl on her couch and she knew she couldn’t turn her away. What was waiting for Lucy on Rangley? A gang? A drug lord? If Sage let her go and something awful happened to Luke’s sister…

“Let’s go.” Sage slipped her shoes back on, grabbed her iPad, phone, and purse, and opened the front door.

“Where?” Lucy didn’t get up from the floor.

“The bank. And I have an appointment later so we need to hurry.”

“The bank?” Lucy bolted up. “You’re loaning me the money? Why?”

“Are you going to ask questions or are you coming?”

Lucy stood, mouth agape, tears in her eyes and lip trembling. “I…”

“Change of plans.” Lucy slumped. “Wash your face first. You can’t be seen in public looking like that.” Sage tapped her foot impatiently while Lucy gawked at her. “Go.”

Snapping to attention, Lucy ran down the hall. A few minutes later she returned, face freshly scrubbed. Instead of looking younger, she looked older, more mature and a little softer around the edges.

“Are you coming or not?” Sage turned and headed outside, hoping Lucy would follow. She did, slowly, but she came.

They drove in silence until Sage pulled into the bank parking lot. “I’m assuming you need cash? Or will a money order work?”

“I…uh…probably cash is best.”

“Stay put. I’ll be right back.”
What the hell am I doing?
Sage knew every penny that was in her checking and savings account. She had vowed never to be destitute again, to always be in control of her life and her finances. The ten grand would make a deep cut in her savings, but she didn’t need it right now. And she believed Lucy had the tenacity and determination to work hard until she paid the money back. The girl would not want to be in anyone’s debt for long. But someone had to give her a head start. Sage wished she’d had a fairy godmother to give her a start as well.

Twenty minutes later, Sage left with two large envelopes stuffed with cash safely tucked away in her messenger bag. By the time she returned to the car, Lucy’s eyes and nose were red and swollen, and a wad of napkins were crumpled in her lap.

“Where to?”

“Back to Rangley.”

“No.”

“But I…”

“Call whoever you need to call and set up a different meeting place. A safe place.”

“I don’t think he’ll…He’ll think I’m setting him up.”

She didn’t want to know, but she needed to ask. “Is this drug money? Prostitution money?”

“Oh, gross. I’d never prostitute myself.”

“So drugs.”

Lucy sighed and dropped her head between her legs. After a few calming breaths, she sat up again, sniffing and avoiding eye contact. “I needed quick cash to buy some art supplies. I had planned on doing some paintings out in the barn and then selling them during the art festival this fall.” She toyed with tissues and sniffed again. “This guy Gabe comes in to the store all the time and heard me complaining about needing money. He said it would be an easy deal.” She picked up a wadded tissue and wiped her nose. “I had baggies of weed, some pills, and other stuff. Powder. He said he’d set up the meets and I’d do the exchange. But when I had to do the first one…it was…she was just a kid. She reminded me of…me.”

Sage covered her mouth with her hand and bit back anything she wanted to say. She needed to let Lucy get it out.

“But I couldn’t go through with it. I walked away before the kid saw me. I was so angry at the world for messing up kids so young. She was barely a teen. I went to Luke’s because I knew he was working, and flushed everything down the toilet. Ten thousand dollars’ worth of drugs. And now Gabe wants his money.”

For the first time since bumping into Lucy, Sage smiled. “I’m really proud of you, Lucy. You did a good thing.”

She turned, her mouth hanging open in shock.

“But I can’t let you deliver this money. The guy’s dangerous. He needs to be put away.”

“I can’t, Sage. I can’t get involved. I’ll be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. He has people. They’ll come after me.”

“This is Maine, not some primetime drama. I’ve organized a few charity events for the police department. I know some people.” Sage turned the car around and drove toward the Portland police headquarters. “Trust me. I’ll take care of everything. But I’ll need your cooperation.”

***

Three hours later, they left the station, ten thousand dollars lighter and a known drug peddler off the streets. For now. Detective Blanchette had Lucy set up a meeting to deliver the cash. Both Gabe and Lucy were arrested, or so they made it look. Once Gabe had been taken away, they uncuffed Lucy, congratulated her on her efforts, and lectured her on getting involved with street slime.

“Where are we going?” Lucy, looking exhausted and relieved, slouched in the front seat of Sage’s car.

“To my office. I have a client meeting there in less than two hours and need to rearrange my conference room. The Jones and Fergusons have decided to disagree on everything from seating arrangements to the color scheme for their princess’s wedding. One week before the big day.”

“You can drop me off somewhere. I’ll find a ride home.”

“No time. I’m putting your artistic skills to use. You said you’re good with color and textures, let’s see how good you are with furniture. I have a spare room I haven’t figured out what to do with yet, and you’re going to help me design it.”

“In two hours?”

“No. In ninety minutes.”

Sage pulled up to the Victorian-home-turned-office-space. A title company rented out the upstairs, while Tom Savage, Attorney at Law and Everlasting Moments Event Planning shared the first floor.

“This is beautiful,” Lucy said as she got out of the car.

The white Victorian had been well restored. There was a larger parking lot out back where the title company’s clients parked and entered the house, while Tom and Sage’s clients entered through the front. She opened the door and stepped into the shared entryway. The wide-plank wood floors creaked under her heels as she unlocked the door to her space.

“I pictured your office all sleek and modern, not quaint and charming. Nice.”

Sage viewed the office through Lucy’s eyes. She typically only used the front room. A Queen Anne chair and matching desk sat in the corner, where Thyme would sometimes fill in and answer calls and emails when Sage was busy working an event. A large rectangle cherry coffee table sat in the middle of the room, with six high-back chairs strategically placed around it. Close enough so her clients could see and hear each other, but enough space to spread out material, paint, and flower samples. The floor-to-ceiling windows were simply dressed with ivory brocade. The walls, a plain cream color, made the space feminine, but not frilly.

“I need to accommodate ten people for this meeting. They’ll be here at eight and will be cantankerous. The last thing I need is everyone sitting on top of each other. Right now I only have room for six. I have extra chairs in the back but they’ll look ridiculous around the table. Suggestions?”

“What’s in the back?” Lucy stuffed her hands in her pockets, her eyes wide with excitement.

“Come.” Sage led her through a hallway. “Bathroom to the right.” She pointed. “Tiny kitchen to the left.” It was cramped, just enough counter space for a microwave and coffee maker. The sink and refrigerator were standard size. She often kept wine, appetizers, and sometimes flowers for her clients.

“This is my storage space. The room is larger and nicer than the front room, but I don’t want my clients to have to walk through all of this every time we meet. The layout isn’t the best; that’s where you come in.”

“I’m supposed to move things around in less than an hour? That’s impossible.”

“I know. I’m desperate. I had planned on doing this today…” She didn’t mean to make Lucy feel guilty, but she had a timetable to keep.

“May I?” Lucy asked as she started to move bolts of fabric, bins of candles, and glassware.

“Help yourself.”

There were two pale green antique loveseat settees that came with the office that Sage didn’t care for. She supposed they matched the era. Lucy was right, Sage preferred modern lines and styles more than the old stuff. Bolts of fabric were piled on a mahogany chaise lounge. The woodwork was ornate and pretty, but the cream and gold fabric needing reupholstering.

“I can’t believe you have this furniture buried under so much crap.”

“Easy there. As you can see, my
stuff
is clearly labeled and stored efficiently. It’s not like I have piles of papers and junk shoved in corners.”

“You’re using priceless heirlooms as shelving. These pieces should be on display.”

“Which is where you come in.”

For the next hour Sage tolerated Lucy’s orders and suggestions, rearranging the furniture to make a quaint sitting area around the unused fireplace. The fabric samples, storyboards, and albums that showed off Sage’s designs were displayed on the cherry table in the front room, showcasing her business to clients as they entered the office.

Lucy carried the last of the heavy cherry chairs into the back room. Sage stood back and took in the transformation. While the boring walls needed to be painted, the dining room chairs and settees arranged in a semi-circle in front of the fireplace were spread out enough not to be tripping anyone, and cozy and intimate at the same time.

“We need a table to put the refreshments on. I suggest we clean off your desk and put it against the wall. Sort of turn it into a serving station.”

Once settled, Lucy went into the kitchen area to brew coffee, open the wine, and make a cheese, cracker, and grape platter. Sage took a few minutes to freshen up and go through her notes before the two families arrived.

“I know you need your space, so, uh, I’m going to go for a walk. I’ll come back when the party is over.”

Her office was in a relatively safe area in town, so despite the evening hour, Sage figured Lucy would be fine on her own. “Oh. Okay. I scheduled them in for an hour.”

Lucy nodded and looked down at her feet. She really was a mess. Her hair needed a serious makeover, her face was whitewashed and gaunt, and her grungy clothing looked incongruous to the room. She really shouldn’t be here when the Jones and Fergusons showed up, yet Sage felt guilty for kicking her out. She had been a saving grace. “Can you do me a favor?”

Lucy looked up and nodded.

“Can you go back to my place and make sure I locked up? We left in such a hurry…I don’t remember if I did.” Of course she did. Sage wouldn’t forget to do something so mundane and necessary. Lucy didn’t need to know that, though. She handed Lucy her keys. “Why don’t you take a nap or something while you’re there? I can call you when I’m done and you can pick me up.”

“Seriously?”

Sage nodded and turned back to her iPad. She needed to review the wedding details before the high-maintenance, high-paying families arrived. When she heard the front door close, she slumped in her seat.

Damn.
She’d been blaming her tears and unpredictability the past few months on hormones. What the hell had taken over her body today? Women did get post-partum weirdness. Maybe taking on Lucy’s problems was a natural reaction. Whatever the case, Sage needed to get her mind focused on her clients, and not on Luke’s troubled sister.