Free Harbor Nights by Marcia Evanick Page B

soon as I have a special occasion to dress up for, I’ll be here.”
    Claire chuckled. “I’ll be open.”
    She walked out onto the sidewalk. The temperature had gone from pleasantly warm to hot. What she needed was something cool to drink before heading over to the docks where the restaurant was located. Bailey’s Ice Cream Parlor and Emporium seemed to be the logical choice, as well as being the closest.
    Five minutes later, she found herself sitting outside at one of the white iron tables under its pink umbrella and drinking a root beer float. Zsa Zsa sat on the chair next to her daintily licking at a scoop of vanilla ice cream in a plastic bowl. As Zsa Zsa was in the shadow of the umbrella and the table, the sea gulls weren’t visible to the dog, and the special treat was keeping her mind off their occasional cry.
    â€œJoanna?”
    She glanced up and smiled. “Karen, what are you doing in town without the boys?” Her neighbor Karen Harper was seldom seen without her three boys in tow.
    Karen sat down in the empty chair. “They are fishing with their grandfather today while I’m at work.”
    â€œTaking a break?”
    â€œMore like taking an early lunch. I forgot to pull something out of the freezer for dinner tonight. So I’ll grab a quick lunch, figure out dinner, and take the three loads of laundry off the back line and fold them, all before heading back to the gallery.” Karen glanced at her watch and sighed. “I really need to be going. What brought you into town—just enjoying the day?” Karen reached over and scratched Zsa Zsa behind the ear. The dog never looked up from her frozen treat.
    â€œActually, I’m looking for a job.” She toyed with the long-handled plastic spoon in her cup. “I tried Claire’s, but she wasn’t hiring.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œReally.” She tried to sound upbeat. “Claire said she had enough help for the season.”
    â€œWhat I meant was, are you really looking for a job, and what kind?”
    â€œYes, and I’m open to any suggestions on what kind. I have no experience, but I’m willing to learn.”
    â€œFull-time, part-time, or seasonal?”
    â€œDoesn’t matter. Full-time would be great, but beggars can’t be choosers. Do you know of anyone hiring?”
    â€œThe gallery.”
    â€œWycliffe Gallery where you work? I’m afraid I don’t know anything about art, Karen.” Oh, she knew what she liked when she saw it, and she could tell a Rembrandt from a Picasso, but that was the extent of her knowledge.
    â€œNeither did I when I first started working for Ethan. He prefers to handle all the special customers, and he does all the buying. I handle the average tourist and some of the locals. They know what they like when they see it, and I ring up the sale and wrap up the merchandise.”
    â€œI could do that.” She was confident she could work a register. She hadn’t had a chance to visit the gallery yet, but she was hoping it wasn’t the kind that displayed all that modern art a lot of galleries were fond of. The modern kind of paintings that looked as if five-year-olds had thrown paint at a blank canvas or mixed concrete with bicycle tires and toilet seats and claimed it was the meaning of life.
    â€œWhat kind of hours can you work?” Karen asked. “The job would require some evenings till eight and weekends.”
    â€œThat’s no problem. I’m free to work any and all hours necessary.” Norah was big enough to get her own dinner, and if she wasn’t there at night, maybe her daughter would accept an invitation or two from some of the local bachelors.
    â€œEthan’s wife is due to have their first baby in August, and he really wants to spend more time helping her out right now and after the baby is born. With the three boys out of school for the summer, I can’t commit to any extra