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And I laugh like it’s the funniest damned thing, even before she kicks me in the shin and stomps off.
“Despite her contractor status—sorry, Jenn always reminds me she’s not my employee—she’s the best person I’ve had on payroll for years. She rescued our latest project on a brutal deadline.” I cut into my pork roast and take a bite, chewing happily as her mother beams at me. “Divine, Mrs. Landers. Are all the women in your family food magicians? Lottie was the best cook in Pinnacle Pointe, hands down. Ask anyone.”
“Ohhh, so you’re that Miles? You lived next door to my mother-in-law?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“I wish we could have met you sooner. Mom always spoke so fondly of you on the phone,” Mrs. Landers gushes between bites of potato. “Jenn, how did you not mention this?”
I look over and my kitten shrugs, staring numbly at her plate. “He had Grandma charmed. That’s for sure.”
She’s barely eating, just scattering food around. Her jaw is clenched, and even though she’s visibly pissed, I can’t help but remember the last time I had her in my arms.
She stabs a crispy potato with a fork and glares up at me. “What are you grinning at?”
Damn.
Am I grinning?
“Just enjoying our sit-down over this fantastic spread,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “Right. My mistake. Honesty never was your strong point.”
I don’t look away, still chewing my food.
Both of her parents flash her a disapproving look.
“What?” She sets her fork down and looks up. “We’re not at work. I don’t have to play nice.”
“Jennifer, he’s a guest in this home, and yes, you do,” her father says sternly. “Now, why do I get the feeling we’re not talking about work?”
“Oh, God,” Jenn groans. “Can you just treat him like you treated my prom date?”
“Date?” Her father blinks. “I thought he was your boss...”
She looks like she’s about to start breathing fire. “Well, yeah, he is. But technically, he’s—”
“I am her boss, but she’s very much a free agent,” I cut in. “That’s what makes her efforts so admirable. No other consultant puts in more effort than ten new hires. With her, I got damn lucky.”
Her father looks between us and nods slowly.
“You hear that, hon? You’ve got a war chest of recommendations if you ever get tired of island life.”
“Yeah, Dad. I’ll get right on that, whenever my big city allergy miraculously goes away.” Jenn returns his impressed smile with a yawn.
Fuck.
Tough crowd.
Then Coffee trots into the room carrying a rubber chew toy, a ball with rabbit ears, adding his two cents as it thuds on the floor.
Her mother gasps. “Jennifer, get them out of here!”
There’s my cue.
I reach into my inner coat pocket. “Coffee, sit.”
He saunters over to me and sits next to my chair. Everyone stares in shock as I drop a treat on the ground. Cream noses in on my other side, her curly tail wagging, and I feed her one as well.
“He’s a dog whisperer too?” her mom says, leaning toward Jenn and whispering, “Hold on to this one.”
“He’s very good at bribes. Kind of his specialty.” She reluctantly meets my eyes.
“I prefer the term 'negotiator,' but touché. Dobermans are very cooperative if you offer them the right motivation,” I say, digging a few more treats from my pocket.
I had them stuffed into the side console of the town car for a reason and fetched them when Jenn wasn’t looking. If I can win over her dogs, maybe she won’t be far behind.
Mr. Landers looks at his daughter. “Nice touch, but, uh, should we give you two a minute?”
“Don’t bother, he’s just—”
“Would you?” I cut her off, giving her old man my best disarming you-can-trust-me grin.
Jenn rolls her eyes as her parents start picking up their plates and head for the kitchen. “You won’t charm him like Gram. He’s too much like you, and sooner or later, he’ll see right through your BS.”
“Let him. Every Landers deserves nothing less than total transparency going forward,” I say.
“A little late for that.” She sighs. “But the dogs need to go out. Are you coming?”
“Sure.” Maybe she’s ready to talk, though I won’t get my hopes up.
Five minutes later, we’re sitting on an outdoor sofa while Coffee and Cream run back and forth across the small well-tended lawn.
“Are you ready to tell me what atrocity I’ve supposedly committed with your grandmother’s will?”
She folds her arms. “I’m not accusing you of anything, Miles. Gram was a stubborn woman and her decisions only made sense to her sometimes. She wouldn’t have done anything she didn’t damn well want to. That doesn’t mean I’ll ever understand.”
“Neither do I, kitten. What did Lottie do?”
She meets my eyes. “She put a clause in her will. There’s only one buyer I can sell her land to for the first three years of my inheritance. Otherwise, it reverts back to the executor who will sell it to her one acceptable buyer and give me the funds.”
