Something about the way he’d positioned them made her think he expected to need them again soon.
Was he planning to stay again tonight? What if he was? Would that be such a bad thing?
Mo jumped to his feet and stalked to her front door. As he reached it, the doorbell chimed.
She moved toward him, but he caught her eye and shook his head.
She froze.
Mo glanced at the camera and opened the door but left the storm door closed. “Good morning.” There was no hostility in his words. If she hadn’t seen the intense look of warning on his face seconds before, she would have thought he was chilling on a beach somewhere.
“Um, hi. Good morning, sir. I’m sorry.” The young voice on the other side of the door was familiar. “Mrs. Pierce sent a message for Ms. Pierce.”
“I’ll take it.”
Bronwyn finally placed the voice, and when she did, she moved to the door. Sure enough, a wide-eyed bellhop stood on the other side.
“Good morning, Sebastian.”
“Ms. Pierce.” He looked relieved and also shocked to see her. Or maybe the shock was at seeing Mo.
Mo opened the door, took the envelope Sebastian held out, closed the storm door, and handed it to Bronwyn.
She took the envelope.
“Mrs. Pierce asked me to wait for a reply.” There was no need to ask which Mrs. Pierce Sebastian was referring to. The heavy paper and formal lettering answered that.
“I’ll just be a moment,” Bronwyn told him.
“Yes, ma’am.” He had a definite gray cast to his skin. Poor kid. He looked like a man who’d seen some stuff this morning. If he’d been anywhere near her grandmother, he probably had.
She stepped away and opened the envelope. “I would be pleased if you would join me for an early luncheon. Eleven a.m. My home.” She read the words aloud, almost to herself, but also so Mo would, maybe, stop hovering and glowering.
She read the words again. Her grandmother was dying, and she was still scheduling brunch. Of course she was. And heaven forbid she do anything so bourgeois as to send an email or a text. No. It had to be a written invitation.
Bronwyn ran to her office and grabbed a correspondence card from her stash—a gift from her grandmother several years ago that she rarely used—and dashed off an acceptance.
Mo hadn’t followed her into the room, but he stood in the hallway. When she emerged from the office, he held out his hand.
She could argue, but it wasn’t worth it. She handed the envelope to Mo and followed him to the door.
Mo kept his body mostly in front of hers, like Sebastian was a threat, and again handed off the envelope with quick efficiency. The storm door closed, and Bronwyn spoke to Sebastian through the glass. “Thank you for running her errands.” It was part of his job description, but still.
“I don’t mind, Ms. Pierce. Mrs. Pierce is a nice lady.”
Bronwyn didn’t try to hide her surprise, and Sebastian grinned, finally relaxing in Mo’s presence. “Sheisnice,” he said. “She tries to come across as grumpy. But she just likes things the way she likes them. She’s lived long enough to earn that, I think.”
Maybe. Maybe not. But at least she wasn’t terrifying the kid on a regular basis.
“We’ll see how nice she is to me later this morning.” She winked and sent Sebastian on his way.
Mo closed the door, locked it, and reset the alarm, all without looking at her.
That had been ... weirdly intense.
She should head in to the office, but her office was chaos. What she needed most was to breathe some fresh air. She glanced at her watch. If she put some speed on, she had time for a walk.
Her phone rang and she put it on speaker. “Cal, good morning.”
