Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Dad’s oldest sister. Grandpa had lived with her for the last year of his life, and she decided she was due more than anyone else because she’d left her job to be his carer.”
I paused. “She kind of had a point.”
“I don’t disagree,” Ash said, putting her straw between her lips and sucking up the last of her cocktail. “The problem was that she wanted almost everything. Grandpa had already left her the house since she’d moved in with him, but she wanted the money, and she wanted it now.”
“You obviously got it, though, because you bought the store.”
“And Noah bought his house.” She nodded. “We had to go through the courts where we proved she’d been left more than cared for and that each of the grandchildren were left the same amount of money, with the exception of me and Noah, because we also got Dad’s share.”
“Did she really come after that?”
“Dad’s share? Oh, yeah. She didn’t seem to get that it was money that would have gone to Dad if he was still alive anyway, and Grandpa was trying to ensure that all the grandkids got their fair share. It was absolute hell, but after the judge found she had no grounds to claim more than her share of the inheritance, me and Noah sued her for our legal costs, and she ended up having to pay them.”
“I bet she doesn’t get a Christmas card anymore.”
“Oh, she gets one. The store one.” Ash smirked. “And on that note, I’m going to barge in and rescue Stephanie from the family. Do you think she’s a pencil or paints kind of girl?”
“This seems like the precursor to a terrible idea,” I muttered as she got up. “I don’t think she’s either.”
I watched with more than a hint of anxiety as Ash wandered over to Steph and inserted herself into the conversation. Shaking my head, I turned to the remainder of my drink and slurped up the last of it through the straw, although it was more water from the melting ice than anything else.
Why did pubs do that? Put so much ice into drinks? Was it to be cheapskates?
Hmm.
Things to ponder.
“Why does she look like she’s causing trouble?”
I side-eyed Jamie, lips still pursed around the straw, and shrugged. “I don’t know. Because it’s Ash?”
He chuckled. “I’m surprised to see you two here.”
“Are you keeping tabs on me, Sergeant Donovan?”
“A coincidence, I assure you. Look. I’m off-duty.” He motioned to his black shirt. “Why are you here, Lottie?”
“Because it’s a pub and I’m allowed to be?”
“In black? At the wake of the man who was murdered in your B&B?”
“Yes. The black matches my soul, and the wake is pure coincidence.”
“I doubt that very much, given my grandmother’s attire and the recording device she’s hiding not so discreetly up her sleeve,” Noah said dryly. “If Granny and Ash are involved, there’s trouble.”
“Ugh,” I said, looking over my shoulder at him and turning around again. “Why are you always where I am? There’s a whole pub here, yet you’re right here behind me.”
“I don’t think she wants to talk to you,” Jamie said, leaning on the back of the chair next to me.
I tilted my head towards him and glared. “You can piss off, too. If you think I’m getting up so you can steal my table, you can think again.”
“Damn. Master plan is thwarted.”
I sighed. Why did Ash have to disappear when I needed her most?
“Why is Ash talking to Stephanie Tierney?” Noah asked.
I shrugged, not saying a word.
“Let me guess,” Jamie said. “It’s a pub and she’s allowed to?”
“If you ask me any more questions, I’m going to call my lawyer,” I grumbled, stabbing my straw into the half-melted ice cubes in my glass.
“What do you want?” Ash asked, walking back to the table. “You have a girlfriend,” she said, pointing at Noah. “Leave her alone.”
Amen to that.
“Take him somewhere else,” Ash said to Jamie. “You’re not having our table.”
“Where’s Steph? I thought you were on a rescue mission,” I said.
“Getting drinks. As thanks for helping her escape.”
“You’re friends with Stephanie?” Noah asked, finally rounding the table so I could no longer not look at him.
Ugh.
Like Jamie, he was wearing a black shirt. Where Jamie’s was short sleeved, Noah’s was long, and the sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows, and I was pretty sure that forearm tattoo of his was flirting with me.
Sigh.
Black shirts with sleeves rolled up were just below white shirts on the hotness level. Marginally.
It was a shame I wanted to throw my straw at him, really.
“Are we not allowed to be, Your Majesty?” Ash said, raising her eyebrows. “Is that a problem for you?”
“Ash. You’ve never spoken to her in your life; forgive me for being a bit confused about it.”
“We’re friends,” I said, given that arguing was in their DNA. “It’s not that weird.”