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“Love of my life, what are you doing for dinner tonight?”
“Anyone and anything except you, pal.” Violet threw him a bright smile. “I actually have a date.”
“Holy shit. Is the world ending?”
Violet went to a small safe behind the desk. “Keep it up, Jack. I know how to break into your cell phone. The damage I could do would be epic.”
Jack pressed his hand to his chest. “You wound me.”
“I speak truth.” Violet held out a badge and a keycard of some sort to me. “Here you go, Blondie. Make sure you have that badge on you at all times, or you can’t get into the building or the elevator. It’s chipped for certain areas of the building only.”
“Thanks.” I flipped around the badge, and the picture wasn’t too horrible. “What’s the card for?”
“Parking.”
“Oh, really? Bless you.”
Violet grinned. “Since you work with the boss man, you get to have parking. Mostly because he’s going to kill you with the hours.”
I laughed. “So I’ve gathered.”
“Do you want a ride to your car?” Jack asked.
I looked out the window. Dusk was fast approaching, but the rain had stopped. “I think I need the walk. I’ll see you in the morning, though.”
He nodded and waved. “Good job. You’re just the shakeup we needed.”
“Thanks, I think.” I got a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’d never really mattered this much from a business standpoint. Organizing a tiny, family-run gallery was a whole lot different than a multi-billion-dollar company.
This felt a lot more real, and a helluva lot more terrifying. Because it wasn’t going to last. I wasn’t meant for this job. Boston wasn’t my life—Marblehead was. The ocean was. And I had to keep reminding myself of that.
I headed down Atlantic to the park-and-ride area and found my car. Traffic wasn’t quite as hideous since it was a little after six by the time I got on the road. It still took more than an hour to get home.
As I pulled up the drive, I noticed a strange car parked out front. The foreclosure sign had been traded out for Sold. Already? It took everything inside me not to run inside. Instead, I maneuvered into the small paved space near the garage.
With the gas and electricity turned off, next would be eviction. It made sense. It just hurt too much for me to breathe at the moment.
How the hell was I supposed to do this? I knew what the man was going to say. All I wanted to do was plug my ears and curl up into a ball.
But I wasn’t six years old. I was a grown-ass woman.
When the man stepped out of the car, I crossed my arms and followed the walkway to where he stood.
“Ms. Copeland?” I’d been hearing a lot of that today, but this man’s voice wasn’t nearly as delicious as Mr. Carson’s. In fact, this man’s was quite nasally and high-pitched. It really didn’t match his tall, broad stature at all.
“Yes. That’s me.”
He pushed his hand through his hair. I could see how uncomfortable he was, but I wasn’t going to be meek about this. He was going to have to say it plainly. My eyes stung, and I was never so glad for the dimness of the solar lights on the path. There was no electricity to prove the dampness of my cheeks.
The tears were leaking before I could order them not to fall.
He was here to tell me I had to leave.
Didn’t he understand that it was too soon? My grandmother hadn?
?t even been interred. I hadn’t had the heart to put her away in that cold mausoleum just yet. All those ornate jars lined up, one by one. My grandmother didn’t belong there, even if that had been in her will. All that life and beauty—gone.
“Um, well, I’m here to advise you that the bank has finalized the purchase of this house by a new owner.”
