Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
He brushed my hair away from my eyes. “Promise me you’ll stay safe while I’m away.”
I lifted my legs to wrap around him, holding tight. “I promise. You say the same.”
“I promise.” He nipped my nose. “I’ll get home to you as soon as I can.”
For now, those were the words I needed. The others would come in due time. It just had to be the right moment and place.
How hard could that be to find?
Monday morning arrived with a light and almost magical snowfall compared to the blizzardy conditions we’d experienced all weekend. Aiden had left early yesterday morning, and I had baked pies, trying not to miss him. But I expected a busy Monday, so as I walked into my office, I wasn’t surprised to see our receptionist already holding a stack of messages.
“Morning,” he said.
“Hey, Oliver.” I drew off my coat and reached for the stack. “Happy Monday.”
He sighed. “Just more work for the overworked, right? You and me and everyone. So we can pay taxes to the man.” Oliver Duck was eighteen years old with ruffly red hair and earnest brown eyes, and he’d been cranky about taxes since December. Today, he wore a gray button-down shirt that stretched against his muscular chest. He’d discovered a new gym and trainer at the beginning of the year and had dedicated himself fully to becoming ripped—as he put it.
“I thought you had a makeup test scheduled for today,” I said.
“I moved it to tomorrow.” He’d recently started studying at the local community college to become a paralegal, and Clark and I were helping to pay for his education, which wasn’t easy considering I hadn’t bought new shoes in two years. It was a good thing my older sister Donna was a clothes horse who shared her goods.
Rifling through the stack of messages, I didn’t see anything crucial. “That was nice of you since we need you on Mondays, but school comes first. Okay?”
“Of course,” he agreed, then leaned forward. “Your grandmother is in your office.”
I stiffened. What? “Oh.” Turning, I rushed down the hallway, noting that Clark’s office was vacant. That was odd. He usually arrived before I did. I passed his space, the filing room, the restrooms, the large conference room, and then two more offices before reaching the rear of our establishment and turning into my office.
The spacious area had windows facing both the alleyway and a treed area next to Duke’s jewelry store. Right now, they showed the softly falling snow.
I hurried inside and then paused. I had expected my Nonna Albertini since she often dropped by my office, yet it was Nana O’Shea who sat in one of the guest chairs. “Nana,” I said, hanging my coat on a coatrack near the door and then kicking off my boots. “It’s so good to see you.” She normally stuck closer to Silverville because she didn’t like heading over the pass.
She stood, nearly my height, and smiled. “It’s good to see you, too.” She looked a lot like Tessa and our mom, like an older version of Maureen O’Hara. She believed in all things magical and whimsical. Sometimes, so did I.
After hugging me, she sat back down, her big white purse on her lap. I knew from experience that the bag contained everything from smudging sticks to cough drops.
The door to the men’s room opened with a creak. Ah, that’s where Clark had been. I made a mental note to oil the hinges; they shouldn’t be creaking. Footsteps sounded, and then my door opened. “Sorry about that,” a cheerful voice said as a man walked inside.
It took me a second to recognize him. “Lenny Kristoff?” I asked, backing away. Wait a minute, what was going on? I held up a hand. “Hey.”
“Hi.” He took the seat next to my nana.
Everything inside me stilled. Okay, this would not be good.
Taking a deep breath, I crossed around my desk and sat in my newish leather chair before reaching down for the pair of pumps I’d placed under my desk. “Nana, this is probably inappropriate.”
“I understand.” She’d pulled her light, blondish-gray hair up on the top of her head and looked sprightly in a pretty green dress with dark brown snow boots. “But Lenny is a friend, and he needs your help.”
“I really do,” Lenny said. “Honest. I didn’t rob anybody. I would never do that. I was even too nervous to go into the jewelry store to buy a ring. I don’t have a lot of money, so I thought maybe they had credit, but then I got too nervous because…what if my girl isn’t really my girl? What if I get the friend-talk again?”
I held up a hand. “Lenny, I’m sorry you wasted your time, but I can’t help you. I’m a witness in the robbery.”
“Yes, but he didn’t rob anybody, dear,” Nana said, her eyes wide. “So you can represent him.”