Page 60 of Tiffanie

Tiffanie followed his line of vision to Ivan’s table. He and his new acquaintance moved furiously to display his work. From Ivan’s expression, he didn’t care one iota about anyone coming through the door. His entire attention centered on the woman with braids.

As they watched, Ivan picked up the basset hound and handed the carving to her. Tiffanie made- up the conversation she couldn’t hear.

“Oh, no! I can’t take that.”

“I’d like you to have it.”

“At least let me pay you for it.”

“No way. You had a special connection with Droopy, Jr. This belongs with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’d hoped one of my carvings would attract a Little girl.”

“Oh. I bet kids love your work.”

“I wasn’t talking about someone under eighteen.”

“Oh!”

“Look, there she goes back to her table, blushing completely red!” Tiffanie said triumphantly. Her Daddy laughed, a deep belly chuckle that did things to her insides. Damn, she loved him.

“You know they probably talked about the library or something,” Phineas said.

“No way. That was a complete Daddy-Little girl conversation.”

“Kiss me, Princess, before the crowd gets here.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered and puckered her lips. His mouth barely brushed hers.

Disappointed, Tiffanie grabbed the front of his library polo and hauled him close. She kissed him with all the love she had inside. That was the kind of sizzling exchange she wanted from her Daddy.

“I wonder if they have books on kissing in the library?” a female voice asked from behind them.

Phineas lifted his mouth from Tiffanie’s and, without missing a beat, said, “Of course. They’re in the self-help section of the library. Feel free to ask any library staff member for assistance in finding them.”

“I may do that,” she answered pertly.

Tiffanie’s eyes danced with amusement. That was Widow Norville. She had to be ninety. Her husband had passed before Tiffanie was born. “She’s going to be at the library tomorrow morning when the doors open to find those books,” Tiffanie whispered when Penelope Norville had moved far enough away and wouldn’t hear her.

“I can’t wait,” Phineas said and winked. “Will you be okay if I roam around?”

“Of course. I’m going to go down to Essie’s office and relax. My decorating work is finished here. I’ll return to help Ivan pack up toward closing time.”

“I don’t think he’s going to have anything left to take home,” Phineas said, nodding at the line forming in front of Ivan’s table.

“What is the lady showcasing? The one he gave the dog to.” Tiffanie asked.

“Stop by and see. She’s at the last table in that row. I’ve already paid her to let you pick something out.”

“Really?” When he nodded, she promised, “I will.”

Tiffanie headed toward the display Phineas had indicated. She admired the sparkling lights that decorated the edges of the ballroom ceiling—Essie’s signature touch. Those fairy lights never got old.

In front of her, the crowd parted as if someone physically held back the eager shoppers on each side. For some reason, an image of Edmund and Esther Ferguson popped into her mind. Dressed in the same clothing as they had worn for years in the portrait, the couple acted as safety guards, clearing the way for her. Tiffanie didn’t waste the opportunity and walked forward, wrapping her arms around herself at the chill she experienced in that corridor. Her gaze fixed on the beautiful creations in front of her.

“These are incredible,” she breathed, taking in the glittering tiaras of various sizes and shapes.