Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“Good God,” Austin grumbled into the pillow.
Nessa’s smile slipped with the mention of Tristan, her eyes turning guarded. Something had happened between them, but no one knew what. Or if they did, they weren’t talking. She’d looked exhausted but absolutely radiant the day after Aljoe’s sisters had gotten here, but then she’d slowly slipped into an introspective gloom, using any and all excuses to avoid the gargoyle-monster.
Worried about her, I’d asked Sebastian about it.
“Pretend you don’t see it,” he’d said, his face black from something with too much power having exploded on him. “Treat her as though everything is normal and she’s effectively hiding whatever is wrong.”
“But…what if she wants to talk about it?”
“She would’ve already talked about it. Sometimes, when she’s scared or doesn’t like her options, she’ll shrink into herself. It’s her version of running away from something uncomfortable when she can’t actually run. She’s a fixer, though. A problem solver by nature. She won’t be able to run forever. Trust that when she needs you, if she needs you, she’ll let you know.”
But because I was incredibly nosy and I hated when people suffered, I asked Aurora if she knew anything. She lived with Nessa, after all, and she was second to only Sue at reading body language.
I’d gotten a stone wall. All my questions were answered with an exaggerated (for her) shrug and “I don’t know.” She hadn’t given anything away. Not to me, at least. Sue had been in the room. When I looked at him to maybe give a little more insight, he’d stared back—another stone wall.
If they knew whatever was happening, they were keeping their mouths shut.
“I’d rather sit here and drink my coffee than have to get up and go downstairs.” I pushed to sitting. “Actually, I’d rather just sleep in.”
“Yes, I for one love sleeping in.” Patty beamed at me. “Now, Jessie, if I may. The territory is looking splendid. Clean and organized. Flowers are blooming, sidewalks swept—everything is immaculate. There are one or two scruffy individuals who simply will not help themselves. But never mind them. I have a team of ladies ready to drag them into the salon at a moment’s notice. They will not be an eyesore on this town.”
Aunt Florence nodded knowingly. She tended to help drag people into the salons.
“Evan and Gerard are due in today,” Patty went on. “We have a fabulous reception planned tonight for them in the park. Plenty of booze. Gerard always likes to let his hair down when he has a travel day. Don’t worry, we’ll ensure his sobriety when it’s necessary.” She tapped her finger beside her nose conspiratorially. “We’re ready to go, Jessie.”
Somehow, Austin and Tristan had shirked the duty of dealing with the garhettes, leaving it to me to monitor their efforts. The guys thought they were saving themselves a headache. In reality, I had to do almost nothing except listen to their biweekly reports and then take credit for a superbly run community. I couldn’t remember which gargoyle had said that the garhettes were the key to a happy life (or a hellish one), but they were absolutely right. The ladies all came together, regardless of where they came from, to manage the morale.
“Great. Thanks, Patty,” I said, my lips on the edge of my mug.
“Now, Jessie,” Aunt Florence began patiently, “it has come to my attention that for whatever reason—we’re not naming names or placing blame—there is a persistent gnome problem on Ivy House soil.”
Edgar hunched where he stood, as though trying to shrink into his clothes like a turtle. Nessa’s smile grew.
“With your blessing,” Aunt Florence went on, “we have arranged a garden party of garhettes to deal with this problem.”
Patty seemed to be the only person that the gnomes ran from. Clearly Aunt Florence thought she had more people with Patty’s style, and a sophisticated event was a great time to rid Ivy House of the infestation.
Literally, I had to do nothing at all to look great with these ladies.
“Now, I know what you’re thinking.” Aunt Florence held up her finger. “Won’t mini sandwiches and too much wine be counterproductive? The answer, Jessie, is no. After too much wine, gnome bashing is a fun sport had by all. It will give the garhettes a way to blow off steam, and it will help rid Ivy House of a pest.”
“Sounds fine,” I said with as serious an expression as I could muster. Austin’s lips curled from where they peeked out of the pillow. “I’ll have Mr. Tom make something for you.”
“Oh no, no.” Aunt Florence looked revolted, and Patty with her. “No, no. Thank you, Jessie, no, that won’t be necessary.”
“We do so love Mr. Tom’s sandwiches, of course,” Patty broke in with a pleased smile for Mr. Tom.
“Yes, we do.” Aunt Florence nodded exaggeratedly. Nessa’s smile stretched ever wider. “But we won’t trouble him at all. We’ll bring everything we need. Don’t worry.”