Page 55 of Twisted Knight

“He’s been at the club,” she says, referring to the Westmore Country Club. “At Duke’s Steakhouse. At the yacht club. He’s been seen all of the places where you go to be seen.”

“Good for him.”

“The question is why?”

“Um … because he lives here now and needs to build the relationships my dad and Rhett have to keep the business afloat when he’s majority owner.”

“When? You’ve resigned yourself to that?”

“No.” Winnie jumps after an insect and falls on her back. “Well … it’s complicated.”

“I’m sure it is,” she says.

“You have no idea,” I groan.

“Wait. You’re really not interested in him in the least?”

“No,” I lie. “He’s … arrogant. An asshole. Has a sharp tongue and snarky wit. He thinks he knows everything and lets you know that he does.”

“So he’s exactly your type, then?” she deadpans.

I draw in a heated breath. “Funny.”

She chuckles. “So that means you won’t object when I tell you you’re busy, not this Friday but the next.”

“Caroline,” I warn, to which she laughs in response.

“Just remember you love me.”

“What did you do?”

“I set you up on a date with a friend of a friend. Someone has to look out for your stagnant sex life.”

“I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are.” Her laugh is deep and rich. “Oh, will you look at that? It’s time for me to go.”

“Carol—”

“Bye, Row.”

The call ends, my protest falling on deaf ears. “Seriously?” I mutter when I know she is. And even worse, I know if I try to dodge the date, she’ll send the poor guy to my house on a mission to find me.

I groan and Winnie looks my way. “I know,” I say to her. “I know.”

With a sigh I lean my head back and take in the view as I silently curse Caroline and her never-ending need to set me up.

The sun is setting slowly in the warm summer evening. The glass fence that borders the rear part of my backyard blocks the ocean breeze somewhat but allows for killer views of the white sand and blue water of the Atlantic.

Some old classics play from my speaker inside. And the six new short-sleeved sweaters hanging in my closet upstairs are making this glass of wine go down even smoother.

What a day.

Hell, what a fucking few weeks.

Processing what’s happening to the company is one thing. Accepting it is a whole other thing I don’t think I’m quite ready for.

And then to top it off, I finally ripped the Band-Aid off today. I had a mini meltdown when I picked up a stack of papers from my home office and a picture of me and Gran slipped out. I stared at it through blurred tears for way too long and took it as a sign to finally open the inheritance letter from the estate attorney.