“Just say yes because she tends not to take no for an answer,” Terra says smiling.
“That would be lovely,” I reply. “But I insist on paying.”
Lucy waves a hand at me, dismissing me like she did Terra earlier, and walks away, back into the kitchen. Terra’s grinning. “She’s going to ignore that and you better let her. Lucy Hawkins doesn’t let people reject free chowder.”
I laugh as Terra grabs my empty mug and walks back to the counter with it. I put on the last of my things—gloves, hat, scarf—and realize my cheeks ache a little from smiling. God, I can’t remember the last time that happened. I walk over to the counter and Terra points toward the kitchen door. “I’ll be back in a second. Gonna help Ma with your chowder. Make sure she tosses in some cheese rolls. They’re Nova’s recipe and incredible.”
I almost want to eat at the bar because I love being here, but I have to get home before the weather gets worse. And I have a date tonight with Logan. When I woke up this morning I found a note taped to my front door.
Didn’t like waking up to find you gone. You can make it up to me by letting me take you on a date tonight. Seven? Text me.
I texted him and apologized for disappearing and said yes to the date.
Before I can sit at one of the bar stools, my cell starts ringing in my pocket. I yank off my glove and pull it out. I don’t recognize the number and think it might be Aspen. We’ve been texting all day, talking about what an idiot I was for leaving Logan without a word, and also she probably wants to know how this meeting went. She’s been really invested in my job here. I think because she recommended me to Terra, she feels responsible.
Aspen has about three different cellphones. She says she needs them for her private eye work, and I don’t have all the numbers memorized.
“Hello?”
“Hello Chloe.” The voice is chilly and condescending, and I recognize it immediately. My whole body goes stiff. “How are you feeling?”
“I told you not to contact me anymore,” I say flatly to Paul Turner, my husband Jackson’s older brother. I glance up and see Nova is watching me curiously, so I give her a small smile and motion that I will be outside. I head for the door. No one needs to overhear this because I know it’s going to get ugly. It always does.
“You said to stop coming by the house, and I have,” Paul replies.
“You knew what I meant. I meant stay the hell away from me on every level,” I say fiercely as the door to the restaurant swings shut behind me. I tuck myself against the wall so the slight overhang of the roof shields me at least a little bit from the blowing snow.
“You should have been more clear, Chloe,” Paul lectures me like I’m a remedial student in one of his shitty, online fake college classes he teaches. Or taught, before the website was shut down for unethical practices and issuing worthless diplomas. “You of all people should know how wording matters. After all, you stole our family legacy because of unclear wording in my grandmother’s will.”
I sigh. Here we go again. Shit. It’s been five years and he will not let this go. “The wording was very clear. She didn’t just leave it to Jackson, she left it to Jackson Turner and Chloe Hale. Plain and simple.”
“Because she wanted it to stay in the family,” Paul argues. “Jackson wasn’t supposed to die five months after her.”
“You’re right. He wasn’t. We agree on something,” I snap back. “Good-bye Paul.”
“You didn’t answer my question. How are you?” he repeats before I can hang up. “Recovered from your little slip and fall yet? I heard you had to be taken away by ambulance.”
My blood gets even colder than it already is standing outside in a snowstorm. “How the hell do you—”
“You know the whole street still calls the house the Turner House, right?” Paul says smugly. “Because they loved my gran. Especially Mrs. Green.”
Fucking Mrs. Green. Argh.
“You know that house is too much for you to handle, clearly. And think of all the money you could put toward your medical bills if you just sold it. To me,” he says.
“You’re a broken record, Paul. It’s out of control, and I swear I’m calling the cops if you contact me again in any way, shape, or form. Is that clear enough for you?” I am trying really hard to keep my voice down because the last thing I need to do is make a scene while at a client’s, especially one that also belongs to my potential boyfriend’s family.
“She also mentioned you’ve had some guy hanging out. Spending the night,” Paul says and his tone gets harder, meaner. “You’re with some other guy in Jackson’s house? That’s really classy of you Chloe.”
“What I do in my house is none of your business,” I say. “Oh, and go to hell.”
I punch end so hard I’m surprised I don’t crack the screen.
The door beside me swings open, and Terra is standing there holding a Hawkins take-out bag. Her brow is heavy. “Everything okay? You seem…off kilter.”
I nod and realize I’m shaking. Shit. I force a smile to my lips. “I’m fine, just a business call and I needed some privacy. I’m a little freaked out about the drive home though. This weather is getting worse by the second.”
“If you wait a half hour or so, Jake will be by to grab his dinner. Boy can’t cook to save his life,” Terra rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. “So when I’m working, he comes here and Ma still feeds him like a stray cat. Anyway, I can have him drive you home.”
