I didn’t want this ring. I would never wear it. But I put it back into its envelope and stuck it in my desk drawer for now. I’d figure out what to do with it later.
The larger task would be unwinding the ramifications of everything my mother had confessed to me.
Chapter Eight
Luke
Once I’d finished my errands in town Friday afternoon, I glanced at the clock in my truck. Almost five. I didn’t know what time Magnolia’s business closed, but I needed to catch her before she left.
I had a point to make.
I parked in the lot behind the hardware store and headed to her location by The Bean Counter. The sky was dark for the hour, thanks to heavy clouds that promised one hell of a storm. As I approached the building, I could see a cozy, inviting light was on in her space. Then I shook my head, reminding myself it was like a poisonous spider luring prey into its web.
Raindrops were just starting to fall as I headed down the walkway to the door. It was unlocked, and I stepped inside, noticing her logo in neon on a brick wall. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but this was comfortable and classy at once, decorated tastefully without feeling over-the-top snooty.
On the left side was an open door, and I could sense someone was in there, though no one greeted me. I walked to the doorway and looked in just as Magnolia appeared in my face, apparently on her way to see who’d entered. We nearly collided.
“Oh!” she said, stepping back, one hand on her heart, the other holding a half-full champagne flute out of the way. “What are you doing here?”
“Why are you drinking champagne by yourself?”
“I asked you first,” she said.
I took out my wallet, removed the check I’d filled out at home, and handed it over to her. “Your payment.”
She looked at the check as if she’d never seen one before.
“For your consultation services,” I said.
She frowned. “You didn’t have to deliver it in person.”
“I was going to mail it, but I didn’t want any chance of it getting lost and you accusing me of not paying you.”
“You could’ve sent it electronically. My username is on the invoice.”
“Do you want to argue about how I pay you, or do you want to thank me?”
She wrinkled her nose as if both options sucked, then muttered, “Thanks.”
“Your turn,” I said.
“My turn for what?”
“To answer my question.”
As if remembering she had champagne in her hand, she took a sip, then went to the chair behind her desk and sat. “I’m celebrating.” To emphasize, she took another drink.
“New client?” I asked, wondering how often she sat alone drinking champagne.
“Even better.” She drained the glass like a beer, then sized me up, as if judging whether I was worthy of hearing her news. She shrugged. “I don’t care if it gets out. I want it to get out.”
“Want what to get out?” I needed to get home to take care of a couple of pressing items on my to-do list before dinner so I’d have plenty of time for a movie with Addie as I’d promised.
She took a deep breath, her chest rising, catching my attention, triggering my memories. I’d had so many damn fantasies about touching her breasts back in the day but hadn’t gotten the opportunity before we crashed and burned. Now they seemed fuller, even more tempting. If there wasn’t a shit ton of bad history between us.
“I just found out that Felix James is not my biological father,” she said, sounding gleeful.
I puzzled through that. Felix James was known around town as one of the wealthiest residents. His company owned a bunch of properties, both here and in Nashville. Its reputation as a property manager was mixed. The company mostly maintained their properties well, but he was thought of as arrogant and greedy.
