Chapter 18♥“What’s Family for if Not Free Legal Advice?”
Elinor was stirring her ice cream into soup when a little shadow appeared next to her. Greta’s ninja stealth used to scare their father to death, and the pang of missing him hit Elinor all over again. He would have been terrible with love advice, but the best person to confide in anyway. Dad had been a vault when it came to juicy secrets—an underappreciated virtue if there ever was one.
“What’s the matter with you?” Greta asked.
“Why do you think something’s the matter?”
“Marianne used to eat ice cream for breakfast when she was sad.”
If there was ever a motivation to stop wallowing over her stupid cake and ice cream conversation with Edward, that was it. Cake and ice cream were meant for birthday parties, not pity parties. Elinor pushed her bowl away. “Symbolic gestures are officially lame.”
“So, no ice cream for me?” Greta asked, putting her palms together in a plea.
“After school, have at it. Right now, cereal.”
Not that the nutritional value between strawberry ice cream and fruity o’s in milk was much different, but it just seemed like a more intentional way to start the day.
Mom came in yawning. “The garbage man was awfully early this morning. And banging around the garbage cans too. Did you hear it, girls?”
“I did. But actually, that was Edward working on our saggy porch. Should we go see if he finished?”
“Aw, man. I kind of like the way it creaks and squeaks.” Greta followed Elinor and their mother outside to have a look.
The wood still needed to be stained, but the work was beautiful and built to last. Every seam was straight and even. Elinor reached down and ran her fingers over the smooth sanded boards. Their front yard was looking a lot less haunted house and a lot more HGTV, thanks to him.
They had a good neighbor. She had a good boss. That was as far as she wanted to let that thought go, but unfortunately, when it came to Edward, her thoughts were a runaway train with a broken brake handle. Especially after kissing him. Again.
His sweetness this morning had muddied up everything she’d previously resolved. It was hard to remain impartial when the man did things like that. And what did he mean by protecting her? Protecting her from what? Why did everything have to be so cryptic? Today, she’d corner him and demand answers.
She took a quick shower, cursing the drippy shower head for what felt like the hundredth time, and then dressed for work. Greta gave her a big squeeze before heading for her bus stop in the opposite direction of Elinor’s work.
For five blessed minutes, all was quiet except for the distant barking of a dog and the sounds of an occasional car going by, and then Elinor’s phone rang. A sense of doom settled over her, even before she knew it was Marianne calling. Something was wrong. Her sisterly sixth sense told her.
Marianne was sobbing too hard to get a word out. But finally, she composed herself enough to say, “He doesn’t love me. He hid behind his mother, blaming her and making excuses for not seeing me and not calling me, and I believed him. And when the punk finally faced me in person, he acted like I was the one being dramatic. He strung me along so bad.” Marianne sobbed some more.
“Oh, Marianne, I’m sorry. Are you coming home?”
“I’m working on it. Let me do this. I just needed someone to talk to about Will.”
“Of course. I’m still walking to work. Talk away.”
***
If there was one person prepared to deal with manipulation and threats better than anyone else, it was Robert Ferrars. Edward told Rosa he needed to make a call, and then shut his office door. His brother was cut-throat, both in business, and in his personal life. And while that usually made him impossible to talk to, he was exactly what Edward needed right now. A person without a sympathetic bone in his body.
“Eddie, is it really you?” Robert asked after picking up on the third ring. “What’s it been, like a year?”
“We spoke on Christmas.”
“Well, brother of mine, what can I do for you?”
“I have a question.”
“Of course you do. What’s family for if not free legal advice?”
Edward rolled his eyes and picked up his stress ball, giving it a good squeeze. “I don’t know if I’d classify this as a legal question. It’s more of a matter of honor.”
Robert snorted derisively. “So, it doesn’t involve money or litigation?”
