Chapter 3 - THE BILLIONAIRE WHO CAME BACK
“Can you fix this?”
Caleb Rowe placed a silver pocket watch on my counter.
I looked at it.
Then at him.
“You followed me?”
He smiled faintly.
“Your shop has a sign.”
“That doesn't answer the question.”
“No.”
I folded my arms.
He looked amused.
“Should I leave?”
I considered it.
Then picked up the watch.
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Whether this is actually broken.”
He smiled.
“It is.”
I opened the case.
The movement was old.
Beautiful.
Swiss-made.
Probably from the 1940s.
I examined the balance wheel.
Then frowned.
“This hasn't been serviced in decades.”
Caleb nodded.
“I know.”
I looked up.
“Why bring it to me?”
His expression changed.
“Because your grandfather repaired it once.”
I froze.
“What?”
Caleb looked toward the photographs on the wall.
“Samuel Bellamy.”
My throat tightened.
“You knew him?”
He nodded.
“A long time ago.”
I stared.
Caleb continued.
“He was kind to someone who couldn't pay.”
I looked down at the watch.
Then whispered:
“My grandfather did that a lot.”
Caleb smiled faintly.
“I know.”
I examined the movement again.
“Give me a week.”
He nodded.
“Whatever it takes.”
I wrote out a repair ticket.
Then hesitated.
“Mr. Rowe.”
He looked up.
“Yes?”
“About the other night.”
His expression softened.
I swallowed.
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
“You're welcome.”
Then he glanced at the framed photograph of my grandfather.
For a moment, something dark crossed his face.
May you like
Something that looked like grief.
And I realized Caleb Rowe had not come into my shop by accident.
