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own home.

“Thank you, Taylor.”

“For what?”

“For indulging me.”

He gave her a direct stare. “It’s not an indulgence, Sonja. I’m open to whatever you have to say.”

“Thank you,” she repeated.

Sonja did not want to compare Taylor to Hugh. Her ex rarely listened to anything she had to say. The exception was when it benefitted him. Otherwise, he tended to wave her away as if she were an annoying insect. Now that she looked back she wondered how she had surrendered her will to him, and she didn’t need sessions with a therapist for the answer. She’d taken her marriage vows seriously while loving Hugh Davies unconditionally.

“Are you ready for coffee and dessert?”

Taylor pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Yes. I’ll clear the table while you brew the coffee.”

Sonja walked into the kitchen, grinning from ear to ear as a silent voice said Taylor Williamson was a keeper. He was who she needed to start over with—a man who respected her and treated her as his equal.

“I made enough for leftovers,” she said over her shoulder. “Should I put away some for you?”

“Of course. What time is dinner tomorrow?”

Sonja went still and then slowly turned to face Taylor. “You want us to eat together every night?”

“That’s up to you, Sonja. It can be every night or every other night. The choice is yours.”

“Tomorrow is okay. At that time, we can come up with a schedule that works for both of us. If I’m going to make my own hours, then there may be times when I’ll work through dinner.”

Taylor set stacked plates on the countertop. “Don’t...”

“Don’t what?” she asked when his words trailed off.

“Just don’t overtire yourself.”

“I won’t. How do you take your coffee?”

“Black.”

“Okay. One black coffee coming up.”

Sonja stood at the door watching Taylor as he backed out of the driveway. She waved to him and he returned her wave before she closed and locked the door. Sharing dinner with him was not only enjoyable but also enlightening. After coffee and dessert, he’d stayed behind to help put away leftovers and clean up the kitchen. He’d scraped and rinsed dishes and pots for her to load the dishwasher. How different it was when she’d been left to clean up everything following a dinner party for Hugh’s friends and colleagues.

She knew she had to stop comparing Hugh and Taylor, yet the differences were so acute it would take her time—a lot of time—to erase the memories of what she’d had with her ex-husband. When she’d answered Viola’s call on Easter Sunday asking whether she would meet her brother, Sonja had no way of knowing her decision would change her life. Turning on her heel, she headed for the staircase. Although curious to open the trunks to see what she would find, Sonja decided to wait until tomorrow.

Chapter Ten

Sonja woke early, showered, slipped into a pair of sweats, and fortified herself with a breakfast of grits, scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, wheat toast and coffee. Then she sat on the floor of the office, opened one trunk and found copies of the floor plans and blueprints Taylor had made for her. She set them aside and began removing bundled letters, receipts, ledgers, and bank and tax records. It was going to take her an inordinate amount of time to put everything in chronological order.

She picked up an envelope with the initials MS—Happy Birthday written on the front in calligraphy. She removed an invoice stamped Paid and a handwritten date of September 4, 1906, for a diamond-and-emerald necklace from Tiffany’s. Sonja jotted the initials, date, item, vendor and the price of the gift on a legal pad. There were more invoices from various jewelry stores in New York, Boston, San Francisco and Philadelphia for MS with dates ranging from 1906 to 1914. The baubles included rings, earrings, multiple strands of cultured and South Seas pearls, totaling more than ninety thousand dollars, which would be the equivalent of more than two million today. Sonja was anxious to determine the identity of MS, who had paid for the jewels, and their connection.

She selected another envelope and spilled out its contents to find ticket stubs and newspaper clippings. Sonja quickly scanned the articles. They were about infamous 1920s gangsters: Bonnie and Clyde, John Dillinger, Charles Arthur “Pretty Boy” Floyd and George “Baby Face” Nelson, just to name a few. There were even more about the exploits of Al Capone.

Sonja found herself engrossed in articles about Harry Houdini’s death in Detroit, women’s official right to vote in the United States, Babe Ruth setting a new home run record, and Lindbergh’s first solo flight across the Atlantic. She heard a buzzing and then realized she’d left her phone on vibrate. Scrambling off the floor, she picked the phone off the table. It was her mother.

“Hola, Mami.”

“Hola. How are you?”

Sonja smiled. “I’m okay. No. I take that back. I’m very, very well.”

“That’s good. I got your text with your new address. I thought you were moving into a hotel.”

She flopped down on the blue-and-white-checkered upholstered chair and rested bare feet on the ottoman. “That’s what I thought, but my when boss couldn’t find one close enough to the work site he rented the condo.”

“He sounds like a very generous boss.”

Sonja detected a hint of facetiousness in her mother’s tone. “He’s a very considerate boss, Mami. He needs my expertise, therefore, he’s willing to do what has to be done for me to perform at my best.”

“Is he married?”

“No.”

“Is he engaged?”

Now Sonja was becoming annoyed with her mother’s questioning. “I don’t think so.” She knew Taylor wasn’t married, otherwise Olivia would’ve mentioned it to her. And it was the same with him being engaged. “Why are you asking these questions, Mami?”

“I’m asking because I don’t want you to get in and over your head when it comes to him.”

Sonja frowned. “Why would you say that?”

“Remember you went gaga over Hugh. When I asked about you spending so much time with him, I recall you saying that he was a helpful

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