Wedding Series Boxed Set (3 Books in 1) (The Wedding Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Artemis sell off some of the collection to finance the restaurant?"
    "You mean as a dealer? No." His words were crisp, hard even. But just as suddenly he was his easy, amused self once more. "You just ran smack-dab into my hobbyhorse. I don't think appraisers should be dealers, and vice versa. If nothing else, somebody telling you your Great-Aunt Gertie's vase is worth $22.50 when that same person's in the market to buy it poses one hell of a conflict of interest. Most folks who do both are honest, but why go dangling temptation out there like a carrot?"
    "And Mama Artemis's inheritance was worth considerably more than $22.50?"
    He grinned at her dryness. "Considerably more. Even with a string of zeros. I tell you, I spent the first few months scrambling around trying to figure out exactly how over my head I was. By the end of it, Mama had her restaurant, I had enough contacts to get out of insurance, a couple dozen collectors and several museums had acquired rare finds and the people of Chicago had the opportunity to enjoy this great cooking."
    Bette looked at Paul and considered how different his approach to business - to life - was from hers. He talked of drifting, luck, happenstance and scrambling. She lived by forethought, diligence and perseverance.
    Yet, she couldn't resist smiling back at him.
    Ardith's arrival made Bette jump a little at the realization that she and Paul had been smiling foolishly at each other. It must have been contagious, because Ardith wore a smile as she set platters of steaming, aromatic food on the table, fussed with their arrangement, then exhorted Paul and Bette to enjoy their meal.
    They did. Both the food and the conversation.
    Bette surprised herself. She seldom dived into food like this - and never during a business meal.
    She found herself using a business trick of drawing out her companion by asking questions. But she knew the difference between obligatory questions and a true desire to know.
    She'd never laughed as much as she did at Paul's accounts of his hair-raising childhood exploits. And she'd never felt so disinclined to move away from the brush of arms and legs that occurred in the tiny booth.
    Replete, and with an additional sensation of content, she sat back. "You've lived a charmed life, Paul Monroe."
    He examined his half-full water glass. Maybe he had lived a charmed life.
    He had good friends, a good business. He'd benefited from a good mind and good education. And family . . . Well, he couldn't deny the strains and differences, but the bottom line was that he loved them and they loved him - with one exception. And he'd fought his way clear of that one exception's influence years ago, so he had freedom, too. What else could anybody need?
    Without conscious thought, his gaze went to Bette's face.
    Her smile pleased him at a level he couldn't explain. More than the way her lips curved - although that was nice - he liked the way her cheeks and eyebrows lifted, providing a new showcase for her deep blue eyes. Even more, he liked knowing he had drawn the smile out. It was a shame to keep that spark locked up behind the dusty seriousness she seemed to think necessary.
    He wanted to see her laugh again. Here, in the soft shadows of their corner.
    "You sound just like Michael," he said.
    "Michael? Your brother?"
    "Friend. Michael Dickinson, Grady Roberts and I were college roommates."
    He told her about finding fungus growing in the closet at the end of sophomore year and, though she wrinkled her nose in distaste, she laughed. Laughter looked even better on her than a smile.
    "By the time Tris came we had quite a reputation."
    "Tris? Your sister?"
    "Nope. Wrong again." He recognized the flick of annoyance. Bette didn't like being wrong, and especially not twice.
    "But you do have a sister."
    "How do you - oh, of course, Ardith. Yeah, I have a sister, but Judi's in college now. She's eleven years younger than me. Tris Donlin's my cousin. Her freshman year the three of us - Grady,