Chapter One

Lola walked around the antique shop. It was filled with all kinds of hidden treasures that she couldn’t wait to discover. She picked up a broach that was made from human hair, a piece of mourning jewelry.

Sitting it down, she couldn’t help but think that the light brown and copper strands must have a sad backstory. She loved little shops like this. Each item seemed to tell her a story as she studied a figurine of two lovers strolling side by side their hands clasped, before moving on. She glanced up at the tinkling sound of bells and looked towards the door, her eyebrows scrunched together.

That was strange no one had come in. Shrugging her shoulders, she turned back to all the pretties. Maybe it had been the wind?

She loved everything about this particular antique shop, the cozy feeling the shop had come from it being set up inside an older Victorian style home. The soft scent of jasmine tea filled the air from the small kitchen at the rear of the house. She paused, her emerald eyes taking in the new necklaces, the glittering glass beads sparkling in the sunshine from the windows. They caught her interest.  

While those pretty baubles were eye catching she had a gut feeling that she was here for something else. Lola moved about the room, fingers trailing across dusty surfaces as she walked. It felt like something was calling to her and it wasn’t something she had ever experienced before, almost like an invisible pulling sensation.  

Lola moved deeper into the house. She tucked a strand of her purple hair behind her ear and followed the pull into a darkened room. She didn’t know if this room was off-limits, but she had the strangest feeling like she wasn’t supposed to be there. She moved to an old mahogany writing desk that sat in the corner of the room.

There it sat.

A small oak box, barely bigger than a bible. She touched the box. The warmth that met her fingertips made her frown. How was it warm to the touch? Bending down, she examined the strange intricate carvings that littered the scarred surface were symbols she was unfamiliar with. She had a gut feeling that this box was more than it seemed. Lola picked up her newly found treasure and headed to the register, with a smile on her full lips.

“Hi Erik,” Lola said as she approached the tall blond man. He turned to look at her from behind the register as he pushed up his wire-rimmed glasses.  

“Lola, it’s good to see you again,” Erik said with a toothpaste commercial-worthy smile. 

Lola felt her cheeks heat up in pinpricks of warmth as he smiled at her. She looked down at the box in her hands. She wasn’t used to men as handsome as him smiling at her. His dimples flashed at her as he ran a hand through his wavy hair. 

“It’s nice to see you as well, it looks like you got in a lot of interesting finds,” Lola said, sitting the box down on the glass counter. She crouched down to look at the trinkets inside the case. A leather-bound journal catching her attention. A rust-colored stain covered the spine. She wondered what stories it held within its bound pages.

“That is a journal from an English girl in the late 1800s. Her vernacular was surprisingly modern. I think she may have been insane, or maybe she had a touch of foresight after reading the journal. Would you like it as well?” Erik asked as he wrapped up her purchase in the brown paper before placing it into a lavender paper shopping bag.

“I don’t think so, it kinda gives me the heebee-jeebees,” Lola said, standing up and glancing at Erik. She smoothed out her skirt and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

“I know what you mean, I felt the same way when I opened the crate it came in,” Erik replied with a wink of his gray eyes. Lola looked away, her blush deepening as she bit her lower lip nervously. Erik told her the price, and she paid, happily accepting the bag from him. Before she turned, heading towards the door, his hand on her arm stopped her in her tracks.

“I was, I’m sorry,” Erik said, pulling his hand back as she looked up at him in surprise. “I was wondering if you’d like to stay and have some tea with me, or maybe another time if you’re busy today.”  

“I can stay,” She smiled shyly up at him.

“That’s good, um. I mean, I’d like that.” Erik said as he let out a sigh of relief.  

Lola had the feeling that he, much like she tended to do, had over-thought the interaction. Erik turned and headed to the small kitchen, Lola followed him at an easy pace. She sat her bags on the counter and leaned close to study the antique tea set that Erik had sitting on the counter.

“The details on the teacups are exquisite,” Lola said as she picked up the delicate china cup to study the mauve and yellow hand-painted roses.

“It’s a 1950s Roslyn Fine Bone China set, very hard to come by nowadays. They weren’t open for very long,” Erik said as he poured the fragrant tea into the delicate teapot and topped it with the lid. He pulled out a tin of shortbread cookies and placed them onto a matching plate.

“I bet this china has some stories it could tell us,” Lola said as she gently placed the teacup back onto the saucer.

“That’s what I like about you Lola, you realize that everything has a story. I appreciate that quality. Too often people are drawn in by modern and sterile things. You see the history, the magic of an item as I do.” Erik said as he picked up the tray that the tea set was on.

Lola blushed as she grabbed her bags and followed him into the sitting room. It was filled with figurines and a grandfather clock that could be heard throughout the entire house when it chimed. He sat the tray onto a regency era drum table. The rosewood gleaming in the afternoon sunlight.

Lola sat in one of the high back overstuffed chairs. They were beautiful to look at. They were not comfortable though, and she shifted about trying to find a comfortable position as Erik handed her the teacup and saucer.

“Thank you, the tea smells delicious.” She inhaled the floral steam as he gently placed the shortbread on the table between them before picking up his own teacup and taking a sip as he sat down.

“I thought the jasmine would be a good choice for such a nice day.” He said with a smile as he pushed his hair back out of his eyes and sat the teacup down onto the saucer.

“It is,” Lola agreed, not sure what else to say as she eyed the lemon curd shortbread. They were a favorite of hers.

“I need your help,” He said, cool gray eyes peeking at her over the rim of his glasses.