was that the question of the night or what? Maybe she should have looked in a mirror to see how awful she actually looked. “I was chopping onions,” Piper replied. At least it was more believable than blaming the cheese.
Too bad her sister didn’t let the lie slide as easily as her boss had. “Onions, huh? You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Patience arched a brow. Her form of mother guilt. It worked every time.
“Okay,” Piper admitted, “maybe I was thinking about home a little bit too.”
“Oh, sweetie, I miss you, too. But hey, a couple more months and you’ll be back in Boston bragging to everyone you know how you’re a fancy French chef. Do you have any idea how proud I am of you?”
“I do,” Piper replied, the familiar knot starting to twist in her stomach. She got the heavy unsettled feeling every time Patience started gushing about her great Paris adventure.
“So what is it that has you video chatting me in the middle of your day?” she asked, changing the topic. Her sister seemed especially bubbly today. A big difference from the last few phone calls. Her image on the screen glowed and not from computer glare either.
“What? A girl can’t miss her baby sister?”
“A girl can definitely miss her baby sister.” Same way the baby sister could miss her. Piper blinked back some fresh tears. “But usually you text. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.”
“Never too much for you.”
“Awww.” Sweet as the sentiment was, Piper wasn’t buying. Not with the way her sister’s eyes were sparkling. “Seriously, what do you want?”
“I have a favor to ask.”
“I knew you wanted something.” Although what kind of favor could Piper do from halfway around the world? Send someone a souvenir? “What do you need?”
“I need you to pay a visit to someone there in Paris.”
“Who?”
Piper listened as her sister explained. The favor was for Piper to visit the sister of a dead artist named Nigel Rougeau.
“Hey, isn’t your boss’s cat named Nigel?” she interrupted. Patience was always telling stories about the big Maine coon cat.
“The cat’s a namesake,” Patience replied. “Nigel was Ana’s lover in the seventies.” Ana being the little old lady Patience worked for.
Her sister went on to explain a very tragic story involving Ana and the painter. “There’s a small chance that one of the paintings Ana posed for still exists,” she said.
“And you want me to talk with Nigel’s sister and find out for you.”
“If anyone knows if one of Nigel’s paintings survived, it would be someone in his family.”
True enough. Especially if Nigel and his sister were as close as she and Patience were.
“I think she’d find talking to you a lot less intimidating than a private detective.”
“I am definitely unintimidating,” Piper replied. More often than not, she was the one intimidated.
“So you’ll do it?”
“Of course.” A couple hours of her time was nothing. In fact, it would break up the monotony. “I’ll call her tomorrow and see if she’ll meet with me. Maybe you’ll luck out and there’ll be a big old painting of Ana hanging in her house.”
“Wouldn’t that be something,” Patience said with a laugh. “Stuart and I will be glad for any information you can find out.”
“Stuart, huh?” That was a new development. Until recently, Patience’s descriptions of Stuart Duchenko leaned more toward the suspicious jerk variety. Putting down her knife, she leaned close to the screen. “How are things going with the two of you? Is he still cool with, you know, the club?”
“Seems to be,” Patience replied.
“See? I told you he’d understand. It’s not like you went to work in that place because you liked dancing naked on tables.” It was the same reasoning Piper used on herself whenever the teasing at school got to be too much to bear. Of course, she never told Patience about what the kids used to say. Her sister was embarrassed enough.
Case in point, the wince crossing Patience’s face right now. “Of course I didn’t, and you were right. Stuart says he understands.”
“Wait—what do you mean ‘says he understands’? Don’t you believe him?” There was a note of reluctance in the comment Piper didn’t like.
“No, I believe him. Stuart’s been great.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Patience shook her head.
Nothing came with a very dreamy sigh. No way was Piper letting the reaction go by unnoticed. “Patience? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Um...”
Son of a gun, her sister was red as a tomato. There was only one thing that would make her blush that deeply. “Oh my God! Is something going on between you and your boss?”
“He’s not my boss,” Patience said quickly. “He’s my boss’s nephew.”
She was splitting hairs and they both knew it, which was why Piper asked, “What exactly is the difference?”
“About the same as between you dating your boss and you dating his next-door neighbor.”
“Pul—leeze.” Like that was a good example. “The only neighbor I’ve met is an eleven-year-old boy, and my boss doesn’t even...”
“Doesn’t even what?”
Notice I’m here. That’s what Piper was going to say, anyway. Only he had noticed tonight. Absently, she ran a knuckle down her cheek as she remembered his kind gesture.
“Piper?”
“Sorry,” she said, shaking off the memory. “I lost track of what I was about to say. And you still haven’t answered my question. Are you dating Stuart Duchenko?”
There was a definite darkening to her sister’s blush. “For now, yes.”
A different kind of heaviness took up space in Piper’s stomach. The same uncomfortable feeling she used to get as a kid when waiting to be picked for dodgeball. She was always left for last.
Ignoring the sensation, she pushed her lips into a smile. “No way! That’s great! I’m so happy for you.” She was, childish reaction aside. She had no reason to feel anything but happy, really. It was just her pity party making its reappearance.
“Don’t
