Stifling a yawn, Claire smiled and nodded into his shoulder.

“I think you’d better call it a night.”

The others were talking about something; Claire had lost track of their conversation. She turned to Harry and raised her eyebrows, “Maybe I should have taken a nap today?”

She watched his cheeks rise and his eyes do that half open -- half closed thing, “Perhaps the next time you nap, you’d rather sleep.”

Blushing, Claire whispered, “That’s not what I said; maybe I should have slept, too.”

Harry addressed the group, his voice once again loud enough to be heard by all, “Good night everyone. I’m headed home.”

“Good night,” came from the crowd.

After the front door closed, Claire turned to a room of questioning eyes. She feigned her most innocent expression and asked, “What?” Without waiting for them to answer she added, “I’m tired too. See you all in the morning.” Claire turned to walk to her room before anyone could propose the unspoken questions. Besides, she didn’t want to revisit her conversation with Emily.

Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment

that something else is more important than fear.

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– Ambrose Redmoon

Chapter 31

Sophia settled into the plush, white, leather seat and fastened her seatbelt. The tranquility of the plane’s luxurious cabin enveloped them. Just as Sophia’s tired eyes began to close, she felt the warm reassuring presence of Derek’s hand covering hers. Lifting her heavy lids, she glanced at her husband through her lashes. Despite the haze of sleepiness, Sophia saw his soft brown eyes intently watching her every move. The tender look filled her with affection. Smiling, she whispered, “Thank you so much, for all your help. I’d have never gotten so much done without you.”

His chocolate eyes sparkled. His hand squeezed hers and he replied, “It was a fun break from routine.”

Jokingly she asked, “Oh, now I’m a break?”

“Mrs. Burke, you’re the fun part. Coming back to Provincetown was the break. In such a short time, I’ve forgotten how quaint and beautiful the East coast is, so different from the West.”

“They both have their charm,” Sophia confessed, while rotating her hand so their palms united. Instantly their fingers intertwined. “The most important thing is being together.”

A gentleman in pressed navy slacks and a starched white shirt appeared through the door of the airplane. “I apologize for the delay, Mr. and Mrs. Burke; we will be taking off in another five minutes.”

Derek responded, “That sounds wonderful. Do you have all of Mrs. Burke’s art stowed below?”

“Yes, the last crate was just secured.”

“Thank you.”

Once the gentleman was in the cockpit, Sophia whispered, “This is so cool.”

Derek’s eyebrows rose, “I think it’s pretty neat, too.”

“I’m glad you thought of bringing the art back with us. I feel much better having those three pieces on board then handing them over to Fed Ex.”

“I don’t blame you. They’re kind of valuable.”

Sophia shook her head and closed her eyes, “I still can’t believe it. And the twenty other pieces should be in Palo Alto by next week.”

A second gentleman entered the plane; they heard the stairs move away and the outside door close. “Mr. and Mrs. Burke, we should arrive in Palo Alto in six and a half hours. Once we reach altitude, there will be refreshments available.”

“Thank you.” Sophia and Derek said in unison, as the second man in uniform nodded and joined the other in the cockpit.

Derek leaned toward his wife, “Alone again.” His eyes glistened.

“Why Mr. Burke, whatever do you have in mind?”

As Derek and Sophia drove behind the logistics van containing her art toward Palo Alto, Derek asked, “Do you have a dress for tomorrow night?”

Sophia’s expression fell. “Oh no, I’ve been so excited about this sale and everything we had to do, I haven’t had a chance.” She glanced toward her husband, “I don’t expect this is an occasion for a dress I already own.”

“Well, apparently not. The other day I learned we’re attending with my boss, Jonas Cunningham and his wife. But, the big news is the CEO of our parent company is one of the featured speakers. His name is Rawlings, Anthony Rawlings. I haven’t met him, but I’ve listened to him on web conferences. Since we are one of his companies and he’ll be there, everyone is supposed to do it up right.”

“All right,” she said apprehensively, “what does that mean?”

“It means I’m glad you didn’t get a dress yet.”

“You’re glad?” She asked surprised.

“Yes, if you’d gotten one before, it would have been on my meager salary. Now you’ll have your money from the sales and can get whatever your heart desires.”

Sophia pressed her lips together, “Your salary is hardly meager, and I have no idea how to shop with that kind of money. My heart’s desire is cotton gauze.”

“Would you like some help?”

She giggled, “Now you’re a professional shopper?”

Laughing, “No, but I do know what I like to see you wear,” he glanced toward his beautiful wife, “and what I enjoy you not wearing.”

“Well, although easier to shop for, it sounds hardly appropriate for this gala. I do have a hair appointment tomorrow afternoon. Do you have your tuxedo?”




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