Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
I knew the number, it was my soon-to-be future landlord, so, feeling despondent at this reminder I was shortly going to leave this studio, the house, and the people I cared about in it, I took the call.
“Hello, Mr. Atkins.”
“Miss Dupree, how are you?”
“Great, and ready to move in on Monday,” I lied.
“Uh, luv, about that.”
I stilled at his tone.
“The old tenants moved out, and we moved in to do a tidy up for you, and I’m afraid they were a bit careless about a few things.”
Oh no.
“What things?”
“Well, there are several repairs that have to be done. However, sadly, we can’t get to them because we discovered black mold.”
Holy shit!
“This means the council won’t allow us to have another tenant until it’s been eradicated,” he continued. “Obviously, we wouldn’t want you there until that happens either. But not only do we need to see to that happening, we need to make the repairs. In the end, it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to have you for two, maybe three months.”
Oh no.
Two to three months?
“I can imagine this is very inconvenient for you,” he kept talking. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry. I asked around to see if anything else is available, hoping to find a stopgap for you, but with the summer holidays coming and tourist season picking up, I wasn’t able to find anything. Of course, we’ll do what we can, money-wise, to make this hurt a bit less. And obviously, if you find someplace, we’ll let you out of your lease with us. But that mold is highly toxic, and even if the Council hadn’t deemed it unfit for use until the mold is gone, I wouldn’t want you in there.”
Okay, this had to suck for him. He was losing rental money on top of whatever it had to cost to clear out black mold and do repairs.
But…
Shit, shit, shit, what was I going to do?
My phone vibrated with another call.
I took it from my ear and looked at it.
Battle.
Calling me.
For the first time.
My stomach pitched.
This reminded me I’d see him tomorrow.
My stomach pitched harder.
I put the phone back to my ear and said, “I have another call coming in I have to take, Mr. Atkins. Um…can I call you back?”
“Of course, luv, just…anything me and my Molly can do. She’s still looking and making calls. We’re so sorry.”
“Yes, thank you. I’ll call you back.”
“Okay, luv.”
I disconnected with him and took Battle’s call.
“Hey,” I greeted.
“Vivi,” he replied.
“You might have a million-pound set of Chippendale candlesticks in your attic, and that’s for starters.”
He was silent.
“Instead of sitting on the motherlode, the motherlode might just be sitting on you,” I shared.
“Interesting.”
This guy.
Regardless of my recent disastrous news, I smiled. “An understatement worthy of the Duke of Burleigh.”
I heard his chuckle through the line and my breasts swelled.
“Why are you calling?” I asked.
“Chassie phoned, seeking an excuse to get out of coming to London tomorrow.”
Crap.
“I was worried she was being too quiet about it once we fenced her in,” I admitted.
“I didn’t give her the excuse, but just warning you, she might make some plays this evening. I’ve already warned Tempie.”
“Okay, but…I mean, do you think it’s right to force her if she really doesn’t want to go?”
“She really didn’t want to go to Glastonbury, but she had a lovely time. And then, the next day, she was nipping into town like she did it frequently. So, yes. I do think it’s right.”
“You’re the big brother,” I mumbled.
“Prue came into the house giggling and baby talking, practically from birth,” Battle stated, and my attention sharpened. “She was like a baby sunbeam.”
Oh yeah.
This guy.
“So sweet,” I whispered.
“Chassie was like a little doll. I’ve never seen a more beautiful child. Quiet and watchful, fascinated with flowers, always. Though, in the beginning, she tended to try to eat them.”
I laughed softly.
“She looked it, but she wasn’t fragile,” Battle continued. “She knew herself. She knew what she liked. From an early age. Maybe she watched what happened to Prue and took it in more than we expected a child of her age would, and she made certain no one was going to beat her down like they did Prue. Of course, she didn’t have the same personality as Prue, but she was self-contained for as long as I knew her, and that’s her entire life. She could entertain herself as a child. And when she grew up, she asked for one thing. The money to open her own flower shop. She did this in Bath. It was successful within six months of opening.”
“Right,” I said, finding the “wasn’t fragile” comment a tragedy, and having the mystery of Courtney’s comment about wedding flowers explained, albeit only partially.
“We need to reintroduce her to herself, darling,” he concluded.
He was right.
“Okay,” I agreed.
“How are you getting on with your research?”