Wayward Read Online Mary Calmes

Categories Genre: Crime, M-M Romance, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
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“No,” he replied nervously, glancing at me and then back to her. “I thought we agreed that you would help offset costs that our allowances don’t cover.”

She nodded. “Yes, but not forever. My goodness, it’s been over five years that I’ve been carrying you and Harry and Ainsley for incidentals beyond your own trust funds. But you see, now Maks is here, and he feels that my home is what needs all my attention and money at the moment. We have to get so much done before the winter, and it’s already May.”

“True,” I agreed.

“Well,” Mr. Farley said, “perhaps if we could come inside and take a look at the jewelry, and you could see your way clear to giving us some of your grandmother’s estate pieces, like the carnation diamond choker or the—”

“Oh, Oscar had all the jewelry moved to the bank ages ago, except for what I’m wearing and some of my favorite Chanel pieces from my Studio 54 days,” she said with a cackle, fisting her hands and giving a little shimmy shake.

“No,” I ordered.

“The effect is better in a plunging beaded dress and stilettos.”

“Stop,” I groaned. “I don’t want that in my head.”

She was giggling. “So much sex and cocaine.”

“Just…no.”

Leaning in to me, she wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed, bending over to kiss Misha’s head. “I’ll bet someone needs to go potty,” she announced, and when she held out her hands, Misha scrambled out of the sling to get to her.

She put him down on the grass, and he yipped and darted away, lifting his leg for a moment and then running, stopping after only moments to look back, crouch down, ready to play, tail wagging as Ada chased him. The way he jumped up in the air, nearly bouncing, barking and circling back, was adorable. He couldn’t have been any cuter, and I was so glad to be able to give him a life where he could run around and play and just be a dog. And in that moment, a thought occurred to me.

“You look like you got hit by a bolt of lightning,” Ada said from where she was, not too far away but enough that her voice had to carry a bit.

“What if,” I began, “after the house gets all fixed up, we could open an animal sanctuary for dogs and cats and try to find all the little furry people new homes?”

She stood there, just staring at me.

“Ada?”

Nothing.

I cleared my throat and tried again. “Ada?”

Her inhale of breath was loud. “Oh, Maks, I think that’s an utterly marvelous idea. We could call it the Libby Farley Animal Sanctuary.”

“Yes, we could,” I agreed. “And we could use your potter’s mark as the logo.”

She gasped and ran back, Misha right behind her, and flung herself at me. “Oh, I knew it,” she said, arms wrapped around my neck, holding on. “I knew you were the one, Maks. I knew you were supposed to be my caretaker, my home’s caretaker, and now the caretaker for my land. Most importantly, for Libby. You’re going to give my baby her legacy, and she loved animals more than anything.”

“Not true,” I whispered into her ear. “She loved you most of all.”

She was sobbing then, and I hugged her tight.

“I forgot to ask you this morning, how did you know about Libby?” she asked once she could breathe, pulling tissues from the pocket of her sweater. I would need to start carrying some. I was thinking there would be a lot of crying going on.

“Mr. Raleigh told me. He’s a very nice man.”

“Yes, he is. A lovely man.”

Misha was dancing around, trying to get up, whining, but surprisingly, Eugenia bent and scooped him up. I saw her pet him, and he, in turn, licked her nose.

“Eugenia?” Her mother sounded shocked.

“How is he so impossibly cute,” she grumbled like she wasn’t happy about that at all, and then her eyes lifted to mine. “And who are you?” The disgust in her voice was easy to hear.

I grinned slowly. “Who are you?”

She exhaled an annoyed huff of air. “My friends do call me Genie,” she confessed, glaring at me. “And I happen to have a degree in marketing.”

“Really? How interesting.”

Her long, drawn-out sigh sounded so very exasperated.

I decided to meet her halfway. “Could I interest you in a job here, with us, and give you a break from whatever you’re doing in California that maybe isn’t really for you?”

“How do you know it’s not for me?” she snapped.

“Just a hunch.”

She growled then. “Who are you?”

“I’m the caretaker here,” I answered, offering her my hand. “And we’re gonna have a lot of room, Genie Farley.”

She groaned like she was just so fed up with me, but took my hand anyway, and her grip was firm and warm. She looked like I thought Ada probably had back in her Studio 54 days, with her long, thick ash-blond hair, bright china-blue eyes, and golden tan.


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