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The pretty woman smiled, standing up and reaching into a file cabinet to produce a stack of napkins. “He’s just in there”—she pointed to a door—“but here are some napkins first.” She winked. “And good choice on the name change.”
“Bless you,” I murmured, taking a few from her hand and attending to my face and then my hair. Thankfully I’d worn it pulled back, so the rain wouldn’t cause it to dry in a hornet’s nest of curls. Even after a sizable stack of used napkins littered her desk, I was sure I still looked a fright.
“Go ahead on in. I got this.”
I couldn’t muster up a smile, but I pointed at her as I backed down the hallway to the closed door she’d pointed out. “I like you.”
She laughed. “Same, Ms. Ryan.”
I twisted the knob and swept into the office, seeing a large man in a suit behind an even larger mahogany desk, along with another man in a leather chair. Both stood, but it was the suited man who came forward with his hand extended.
“Ms. Cugly, lovely to meet you. I’m Mel Cheatum.”
My entire hand got swallowed in his. “Nice to meet you too, but it’s Kenna Ryan. Not Cugly.”
“Oh, pardon me. Kenna Ryan it is.”
My gaze flicked past his arm to the other man, but Mr. Cheatum didn’t offer an introduction. Instead, he moved his large bulk back behind his desk and I moved to the only empty chair in the room. Next to the mystery man. And speaking of mystery, the guy avoided looking at me as he sat again, which meant his eyes were hidden by a weathered baseball hat pulled low over his brow. But what I had seen of him when he stood up had certainly caught my attention. He was tanned to a color almost as deep as these leather chairs, his T-shirt hugging his body in all the right places. Whereas middle age had started nipping at Justin’s heels, this man had escaped its grasp entirely. Tattoos peeked from under the sleeve of his T-shirt, but I ripped my gaze away so as not to stare.
Mr. Cheatum cleared his throat, and I focused my attention on him. I was only here to read the will, deal with any of my aunt’s effects, and then skedaddle on home to patch my life back together again. Hot mysterious men no longer mattered to me. Tanned or otherwise.
“Maeve was hoping you’d be here with your mother also.”
I tipped my head. “My mother had her reasons for not coming, but I have her permission to speak for us both.”
Mr. Cheatum nodded and opened the single file folder sitting on his desk. He slipped on a pair of glasses. “All right, then. Let’s get started.”
I gave the man sitting next to me side eye. He didn’t move a muscle or give any indication that he was getting up and leaving us to this private conversation. Perhaps just a week ago, I would have kept my mouth shut, but I’d reached my limit on male bullshit several days ago. Swiveling in my chair, I drilled the side of his head with my gaze.
“Aren’t you leaving?”
The man finally looked my way, and I wished he hadn’t. His eyes were a rich brown, flecked with enough gold to take my breath away. He didn’t just look at me, he looked deep into my soul.
And found me lacking.
“No.”
He swiveled back to the lawyer as if that one-word answer was enough to satisfy a woman teetering on the edge of a full emotional breakdown like me.
“Get. The fuck. Out.”
Yes, apparently I was hurling F-bombs everywhere these days.
Mr. Cheatum lurched to his feet, the chair underneath him rolling back and hitting the wall with a bang. His eyes were wide behind the lenses of his glasses. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault. I didn’t do the proper introductions.” He came around his desk, a bead of sweat sliding down the side of his forehead. “Ms. Ryan, this is Dec Boggs. He’s also here for the reading of the will. He and your aunt were friends.”
I narrowed my eyes at the offending man, only getting angrier when he lifted his gaze again. This time with a smug little smile on his handsome face.
“So, if you don’t mind, I won’t get the fuck out, sugar.”
His voice held the kind of sultry twang that had always made me melt into a puddle. Sadly, I was too salty these days to melt over a man any longer. Ha! Would you look at that? Maybe the salt life was for me, after all.
“I liked you better mute.” I smiled back at him and we had a bit of a staredown. I did not like this man, and Dec Boggs clearly did not like me.
Thankfully, for the continuation of this meeting, Mr. Cheatum cleared his throat and his chair let out a wheeze as he sat back down. We turned our attention to him as he began to read the will. I ignored the legal jargon as I fumed in my seat. I knew I was angry about a whole lot of things, but it felt really good to focus all that anger on the man next to me, as irrational as it was. When the lawyer finally got to the meaty part, I tuned back in.
“I request and direct that my property be bequeathed as follows.” The lawyer peered at us over his wire-rimmed glasses. “My house at 777 Pierside Avenue, Sunshine Key, goes to Kenna Ryan-Cugly. All remaining bank accounts and investments are to be turned over to Kenna Ryan-Cugly so long as they remain hers and not her husband’s.”
My jaw dropped. Aunt Maeve wasn’t one to mince words. She’d had foresight I wished I’d had. Justin was the kind of slimeball you didn’t want to leave money to, that was for sure. He’d just buy more diamond bracelets with it. A tiny worm of excitement offered the first full breath I’d taken in days. Maybe with the money from Aunt Maeve’s estate, I could get my life in California back on track, regardless of whether I got my job back. Justin would take half of everything that was ours, but he couldn’t get his grimy hands on Aunt Maeve’s estate. My brilliant aunt Maeve.
