Author: charlieboy PM
A.J. decides he wants an antique desk for his home, placing a bid on a couple of desks, he wins one of them. Both A.J. and Rick find that this is more than a desk, that it is a portal to the past, which holds a mystery.Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Mystery - Chapters: 5 - Words: 6,231 - Reviews: 10 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 07-03-11 - Published: 05-30-11 - id: 7034309
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: These characters do not belong to me.
The young woman tapped her pen on the blotter as she listened to the phone ring on the other end. She glanced at the clock. Come on, this is the last call of the day. Please answer!
Sighing, she looked at the clock again. Ten to six. Reservation is at 6:45, twenty minutes to get there. I wonder if they will hold the table? She bit her lip. Looking down at the information on the sheet. A.J.? She frowned. Alex? Alfred? Amos?
"Rick! Rick could you please answer the phone?" A.J.'s annoyed voice drifted down the stairs.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Rick turned down the volume on the television before walking over to the phone. "Hello?" He growled into the voice piece, as he sat down on the bar stool.
Her handset was half way to the cradle when she heard his voice. She quickly brought it back up to her ear. "Hello? Hello, Mr. Simon?"
Hearing the young female voice, he quickly glanced around the room. "Yes, this is Mr. Simon."
"This is Kendall Warren, from 'Oaks Old Furniture'. I'm calling to let you know that you have won the auction. It is the the Secretary from France." She paused a moment. Not hearing a response right away, she cleared her throat. "Mr. Simon?"
Rick had pulled the phone from his ear, staring at it a minute. Placing it back to his ear, "Ah, I won a French secretary?"
"Not just an antique secretary desk, but one that dates back to Louis XIII!" Hearing another pause, Kendall bit her bottom lip. "Is this A.J. Simon?"
"Who's on the phone?" A.J. strolled into the kitchen, freshly showered and groomed, opening the fridge, he picked out a beer. Shutting the door he looked at his brother. "Well?"
Rick held the handset to his chest. "Do you know a Kendall Warren?"
Without responding, A.J. snatched the handset from Rick. "Kendall! Kendall, how are you doing?" Rick opened A.J.'s beer and took a swallow. He stepped back, letting A.J.'s swipe at him hit empty air.
She furrowed her brow. "Who is this?"
"A.J. Simon." He turned, glaring at his older brother.
Puzzled, Kendall pursed her lips. "Then who was I speaking to?"'
"My brother. How can I help you?" A.J. took another swing at Rick, this time hitting his target. He grinned as he watched Rick rub his arm.
"I'm calling to let you know you won the auction." She paused a moment. Allen? Adam? His voice broke through her thoughts.
"Really? Which one,? I was bidding on two different desks. One was the Davenport Secretary and the other was a marble top secretary with a drop down front." He waited as he heard pages being turned.
"I didn't realize that. It would be the marble top secretary for five hundred and twenty-five. The other went for fifteen hundred."
A.J.'s eyebrows shot up in surprise "Why such a big difference?"
Kendall smiled into the phone, she loved this part of the job, talking about furniture. "As with any auction, if the people aren't bidding, the prices aren't high. I also feel that it is the difference between American made and European made. The one you won was made in France, it is about the same age as the other, but, the draw was to the American made."
She waited for his response, she could hear his breathing across the line. The warmth of his voice came over the line. "Do you know who owned it?"
Quickly flipping through the pages her eyes caught a name. "Peterson, a Wendell Peterson was one of the previous owner. From the papers, he inherited it from his grandmother on his father's side." She paused. "Mr. Simon? This information will provided to you upon payment." Realizing that she might have sounded rude, she stopped for a moment, hoping he hadn't heard her impatience. Abel? Abbot? Allen? Alan?
Andrew sat down on one of the bar stools. "I'm just curious." Wishing that the conversation wouldn't end, he hoped that comment would beckoned her to continue.
"I'm sorry Mr. Simon, I didn't mean to be rude. I have a reservation and I'm not sure if they'll hold it for me." She bit her lip again, hoping he understood. Aaron? Arnold?
He smiled into the phone. "I understand. I apologize for keeping you. When may I pick it up?"
"Let's see." She looked at her calendar. "Tomorrow, or Monday." Angus? Albert? Andy? "If you pickup tomorrow, we won't be near as busy, and I can almost guarantee that you will have help loading it."
"Will you be there?" He used his warm sexy voice again.
Kendall could feel her face heat up and a tingle run down her spine. "Mr. Simon, are you flirting with me?"
A.J. chuckled. "Call me Andrew. Well?"
Yes! He sounds like an Andrew. She skewered her lips. What does he look like? She tried to picture what the man behind the deep voice looked like. Her thoughts were broken through by the sound of her name.
"Kendall? Kendall, are you still there?" A slightly confused A.J. thought that the call had been dropped.
"Yes, sorry." Suddenly feeling embarrassed, she just wanted to get off the phone. "I'll be here until noon."
"I'll see you tomorrow morning."
She could feel his smile through the phone. "I'll be here." Hanging up, she glanced at the clock. It was already 15 minutes after the hour. Grabbing her purse she headed out the door, quickly locking it, she disappeared into the darkness towards her car.
A/N: To be continued.