Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“No, Desmond sold.”
I turned to look at her. “Seriously?”
“Yep. He’s moving to Phoenix to live with his daughter.”
“No shit?”
“No shit,” she confirmed. “They’re good.”
“Huh.”
“Now, back to you getting laid.”
“That’s incredible,” I told her. “Why would he suddenly do that?”
“He loves his daughter,” she said, like the answer was obvious.
“He’s never talked about leaving before.” It seemed suspicious.
“Maybe pretty boy talked him into it. I’d certainly give him whatever he wanted.”
Perhaps the blond had more power than I was giving him credit for. “Huh.”
“Can you go over there, please?”
“Why would they need to talk to me?”
“I have no idea. Why don’t you go find out?”
“You know—”
“And maybe see if he’d like to take a walk in the woods with you.”
“No man dressed in a suit like that wants to take a walk in the woods.”
“You’re so judgmental. Just try.”
“You’re matchmaking now?”
“As far as I know, you haven’t hooked up with anyone since—”
“You should stick to what you’re best at, which is bossing people around.”
“Listen, even if I’d missed him not looking at all the stunning specimens of female beauty who work for you, I could not miss the way he’s been staring since you stepped out here.”
“I would rather have coffee than get laid,” I confessed.
She rolled her eyes. “Listen, I’m sure it’s almost—oh, look, here it is.”
Lupe Salazar was suddenly beside me with an enormous stoneware mug of her amazing café de olla, which had to be made specially in a clay pot that she didn’t pull out every day. It smelled heavenly, like cloves and cinnamon and the chilis she added for me.
“Tapadh leat,” I said, letting my Gaelic come out before I immediately took a sip.
Lupe nodded, crossed her arms, then gently shoulder-checked me.
“What?”
“You saved Missy Harrington, her daughter, and that cute puppy of theirs from her piece-of-shit husband last night.”
“You did?” Paris asked me.
I shrugged.
“He did?” she asked Lupe. “When was this?”
“Crystal told Diane when she was here earlier for their regular coffee order that he was with her until around four in the morning.”
I stayed quiet, just drinking my coffee.
“According to Diane, who talked to Missy, she thought they were going to die.”
“Ohmygod.”
“Crystal said Jimmy showed up at eight this morning, ran his truck up into the shelter driveway, and took out the mailbox.”
That mailbox needed to be on a reinforced pole with how many times angry husbands had annihilated it.
“Diane went out and yelled at him when he got out with his rifle.”
Which she shouldn’t have done. I really liked Diane Gershin, the nurse at the shelter who checked injuries and gave out much-needed hugs and medicine. The doctor who came once a week from Lewisburg always tried to steal her for his own practice. She was apparently radically competent as well as fearless. I didn’t want her to ever get hurt.
“What happened?” Paris asked Lupe.
“He was still drunk, can you believe it? He passed out on the grass in front of the shelter. He was still sawing logs when White Sulphur Springs PD came to pick him up.”
“That’s insane.” Paris sounded disgusted.
“I heard he was yellin’ that he wasn’t drunk when they were loading him into the back of their cruiser,” Lupe told her.
“Yeah, but he was passed out in the grass, wasn’t he?”
“Exactly. Like the cops couldn’t tell he was wasted. Diane said the sprinklers were going and everything. He can’t really argue with that.”
“Absolutely not,” Paris said, smiling at Lupe before she turned to me. “You’ve had your coffee, now it’s time to talk.”
Lupe gasped. “You haven’t talked to them yet?”
“I needed coffee,” I whined, sad to see that mine was gone.
“Your manners are terrible.” Lupe frowned at me.
Paris nodded in agreement. “And look at the blond one smiling at you.”
“Oh, muy hermoso,” Lupe said, leaning into me. “Time to show him those beautiful green eyes of yours.”
“You two are gonna make me throw up.”
Lupe took the empty mug from me, Paris shoved me forward, and then I was off, crossing the courtyard, touching the ancient limestone wall, feeling it vibrate under my hand, and trying to smile as I approached the three men. It probably looked more like a grimace.
“Morning,” I greeted them.
“Are you Merritt Baker?” the tall black-haired, blue-eyed man asked me.
“I am.”
Immediately, he offered me his hand. I was surprised by the strength of his grip, and the calluses. Even though he was trying to develop forest land and turn it into gods knew what, he clearly didn’t simply sit in an office all day, in charge of planning.
“I’m Reggie Cunningham from the Swann Group,” he said. “This is Fletcher Beauden—” He indicated the brown-haired man with freckles beside him. “—and this is our boss, Justin Wentworth. We just bought Bill Rader’s thirty acres, as well as Desmond Laramie’s piece so we’ll have access to this same road you have here, and we would love to talk to you about your piece there to the south.”