He gestured for me to lead the way. “After you.”
The soft breeze against my face instantly settled my nerves. The small patio was perfect, and one of my favorite places nowadays. Michigan weather tended to be a little erratic, but now that the temps were steady, I’d taken to spending most mornings outside working.
I settled into one of the wicker chairs. “What’s up?”
Wes took the empty seat next to mine. “How are you?”
Confused, I asked, “Why?”
He rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head. “I had a meeting with Granny this morning.” He peered up at me. “She told me you quit.”
As heat crept up my neck to my cheeks, I wondered how much Granny Joyce had said to Wes. And since I didn’t know, I figured it made no sense to lie to him. “I did.”
“Can I ask why?”
“You can, but I’m not going to tell you.”
He chuckled. “Got it. Well, I guess your email seemed a little off to her, so she wanted me to verify that you had indeed sent it.”
“Oh, in that case, you can tell her I did.” I stood, satisfied that the conversation was over. “If that’s it, thanks for the message. And tell Granny that I’ll be by to see her and explain everything.”
He stretched his legs in front of him and leaned into the chair. “She is expecting you, but before you go, she wanted me to let you know that your letter of resignation has been considered but declined. Her exact words wereAlbany is the woman for the job.”
I plopped back down, bumping the corner of the small table with a knee. “Ouch.” I massaged my knee. “What?”
Shrugging, he added, “She also wanted me to give you this.” He handed me an envelope. “I also have strict instructions to assist in any way I can.”
“I don’t need your help with anything.”
“Open it.”
I peeked inside the envelope, then flipped it over. A key fell into my lap. Holding it up, I asked, “What is this for?”
“Temporary housing, in one of the many Batchelor properties,” he explained, glancing at his watch. “She’s sending movers over around three o’clock.”
Panic welled up inside me. “Wait, no. I’m not … No.”
He lifted his hands up. “You tell her then.”
Nibbling on my thumbnail, I paced the small area. “This can’t be happening,” I mumbled. “How do I handle this?” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Albany, think. Think.” When I opened my eyes, he was watching me with interest. “What?”
“Oh”—he pulled out another envelope—“she also wanted you to have this.”
I snatched it away from him and opened it. “Oh my God.” My eyes flashed to his. “This is money.”
“Really?”
“A lot of money.” I counted the stack of hundred-dollar bills. “I can’t accept this.”
“You already know how Granny is.”
My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I tried to come up with a plan of action. Except … nothing. I couldn’t think of anything but the bills I could pay with all this money. I slumped against the patio door. “What am I going to do?”
“Are you asking me?”
Once again, I peered at him. “No.”
“If you were”—he stood and approached me—“I’d tell you to take it.”
