Free Love's First Flames (Banished Saga, 0.5) by Ramona Flightner Page A

Gabriel reached out and grasped Richard by the scruff of his neck, immediately lightening the mood. “Let’s get to work and figure out how you can continue to see your Miss Butler without raising any suspicion. And thanks for buying food at the bakery. We’ll need it this afternoon when Jer shows ups.”
    ***
    GABRIEL ENTERED THE WORKSHOP, the door opening with a thud as his rain-slicked hands slipped off the handle. Faint light streamed in through the windows, illuminating the large workspace. Two work desks, covered in a fine layer of wood dust and a smattering of wood cutting tools, stood against the wall to Gabriel’s right. A stack of wood—a mixture of oak, mahogany and maple—all piled side by side, sat in one corner. Along the far wall, a small stove emitted heat into the room on this damp and dreary day.
    Mr. Smithers sat at the table to the side of the room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a pencil in the other. He tapped the end of the pencil as he stared at a piece of paper.
    “Design problems?” Gabriel asked as he rubbed his head with a towel and took off his jacket, sprinkling raindrops on the floor. He moved toward the stove, holding his hands out for a moment to warm them.
    “Get yourself a cup and see what you’d do,” Mr. Smithers said. He chewed on the end of a cigar, unable to smoke inside the workshop full of wood. “There’s leftover sweet bread Mr. Ferrara left behind. I’d eat it before it goes bad.”
    After shucking his coat, Gabriel fixed himself a cup of coffee with two sugars and grabbed the hunk of bread wrapped in a napkin and brought it with him to the table. He opened the napkin, pulling off a small piece.
    “Eat up, young Gabriel. I’ve more put aside for your brothers,” Mr. Smithers said. “How’d you like the coffee?”
    “It’s strong enough to put hair on a whore’s chest,” Gabriel said, continuing the game begun years ago of trying to shock Mr. Smithers with an outrageous comment.
    Mr. Smithers barked with laughter. “Ah, that it is. The only way to start a day, with a good cup of coffee. None of that weak tea you seem to favor. And since I arrived first, I chose our beverage.” He furrowed his brow as he stared at the drawing in front of him. “Now tell me what you think of this. A Mr. Wheatleigh wants a grand front hall stand to rival one he saw on a recent trip to Europe. The man’s no eye for detail, can’t tell me any one reason why he liked the piece.” Mr. Smithers coughed his hacking cough, part of his morning routine.
    “Why did he say he liked it?” Gabriel drank another sip of the strong coffee to wash down the dry bread.
    “He wants it to be known, the minute a guest walks into his hallway, that his is the home of one to be esteemed.” Mr. Smithers shared a sardonic smile with Gabriel as his mentor attempted to mimic the prospective client’s upper-class accent.
    “If you need a hall stand to impress your friends, I’d get new friends,” Gabriel said and grinned as Mr. Smithers laughed.
    “I agree, son. I agree. Look at my drawing. I’ve not spent much time in those fancy homes. What do you think?”
    Gabriel looked at it and shook his head. “No, it needs to be grander. Wider, with a mirror, and double the number of hats it could hold. And a marble tabletop. That would proclaim his wealth. It should be constructed in mahogany, with intricate carving and rosettes in the corners.”
    “Is that what your aunt’s looks like?”
    “Yes, although hers would be smaller than the one you’d create. And I’d relish informing her of that.” Gabriel smiled as he envisioned his aunt’s response.
    “Don’t go stirring up trouble when you already live in a hornet’s nest,” Mr. Smithers said as he rose to walk toward his workbench. “What are you working on, Gabriel?”
    “A new shop owner wants me to build him shelves to hold tea and other sundries. I need to stop by and take measurements and determine the particulars before I start.