“And you will not come back.”
I hesitate. What if the next task involves more of this . . . madness? God, I hope not. What was she thinking? This man hates me, for sure. “Define ‘not come back.’ ”
He blinks in surprise. “Really? What about this situation is enticing to you?”
I laugh, and it’s only slightly manic. “I’ll do my best. I swear. I don’t want to come back, if that helps. This isn’t exactly fun for me.” But actually, it kind of is. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been in public in years, maybe it’s because people in this town either have no idea who I am or don’t really care, but this has been kind of a thrill.
He reaches for the box, and this time, I let him take it.
He sets it on the floor, grabs the book, and produces a pen out of somewhere in his robe. “What’s the name?”
I lift a brow. Really? “Vivien. Vivien Hart.”
His pen stills for a fraction of a second, then it scratches over the paper. He shuts the book and hands it to me.
I take it, tamping down the urge to do a victory dance. That can wait until he isn’t watching. Pretty sure I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day. “Thank you.”
He nods once, and then the door shuts.
He didn’t slam it this time. Progress.
I open the book.
* * *
Vivien,
You’re lucky Noah has the freshest squash in town.
—G.D.
* * *
A laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it. Then I practically skip back to the car where Daphne is leaning halfway out the window. “Did you get it?”
I hold up the book.
Her shriek of laughter is loud enough to reach the edges of town.
Hours later, I’m still buzzing with energy.
Day one and a seemingly impossible task already completed. I must be a genius. A prodigy. The smartest human alive.
After we got the book, we had to go back to the theater because Jack was hungry. We picked him up and went to eat burgers at Betty’s Diner before finishing up our work for the day. Daphne dropped me off back at the law offices when the temps dropped and the sky started spitting snow again.
It’s dark outside. Quinn went home an hour ago, and I’ve been sitting in the upstairs apartment with the door open, ears straining for any signs of life.
I wonder what Spencer is doing. He’s been gone all day.
In a town with a population of less than ten thousand, how many clients could he have?
My phone vibrates.
Audrey. I silence the call and send it to voicemail. She’s been calling daily since I left Boston but hasn’t left a message, so I know it’s not an emergency. I’m sure they’ve figured out I left the city, and Mother wants to know what I’m doing. She’s only happy if she’s stalking me, which is why I moved to Boston, as far away from LA as I could get without leaving the country or ending up in the ocean. But it hasn’t stopped her from trying to get me back into Hollywood and the public eye.
I can’t wait to hand over this book and get Beverly’s next letter. I am going to ace this whole inheritance thing. I’m going to get all these tasks done and claim the deed to The Palace and the house before the end of the month.
I just need to figure out a way to avoid the whole endgame matchmaking bit because there is no way Graham Deadwyler is going to date me or anyone else. He’s like a volcano. Hot and unreachable without serious damage to your skin and ego.
