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“Oh no, thanks. My sister’s B and B is on the next street, it’s near the hospital, and I like this older part of town. Could I have a look inside?”
“Of course, although I have to warn you, it’s even worse inside.” He coughed apologetically.
But nothing was going to keep her from seeing what the house looked like inside. The ground floor had a kitchen, a living room, and dining room as well as a big room with an en suite bathroom.
Turning slowly around, she painted the walls a bright white in her mind’s eye, converting the space into an office for her medical practice. She’d furnish the room with a comfortable couch, some cheery cushions, and toys for the kids. Oh, and look, there was even a side door leading to a smaller porch.
Upstairs were four more bedrooms and another bathroom.
Turning to the agent, she smiled. “I’d like my brother and sister to see it as well, but I think I want this one.”
“Tell you what,” he said as he took the key out of his pocket. “Keep the key. I certainly don’t have anyone else interested at the moment. When you’ve decided, give me a call.”
As the agent left, Vivian took out her phone to call Annie. Mitch was still at the Graff, helping with the last-minute preparations for the ball, but maybe Annie would be free to come and look at the house.
Before she could dial Annie’s number though, Annie was calling her.
“Hi, I was literally—” Vivian began but Annie interrupted her.
“Where are you?”
“That’s why I wanted to call you. I think I’ve found a place. Do you have time to come and have a look?”
“Can we do it some other time? I’ve made tea. We have to talk.”
“If it’s about the reporter and Aiden, I don’t—”
“I’ve made scones. And the kettle is boiling.”
Vivian’s tummy growled as she put her phone away. Annie knew what would get her home quickly. However, she was not listening to anything she has to say about Aiden.
Chapter Thirteen
Aiden was pacingthe carpet in his living room, trying to get Aunt Janice on the line. Why the hell wasn’t she picking up? He’d spoken to her after he’d left Steward’s office this morning, but now she wasn’t answering her phone.
Frustration a gnawing ache in his belly, he again tried James’s number. He’d also been trying to get hold of the reporter since this morning. He had visions of Carol Bingley cornering Vivian in the pharmacy or somewhere, talking loudly enough for everyone around them to hear all the juicy tidbits she’d learned from James Webster.
This time, James picked up. “O’Sullivan.”
“Why the hell don’t you answer your damn phone?”
“Because I’ve been busy. My office back in Sacramento has been flooded with calls. Your aunt and I have spoken.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I haven’t reached out to the town gossip but…”
Aiden stopped pacing. He’d never liked the damn but at the end of a sentence. “But what?”
“Your aunt still thinks I’m going to talk to Carol Bingley.”
“So, she’s going to tell Vivian you’re going to speak to—” He ended the call before he’d even finished his sentence.
Frantically, he dialed his aunt’s number again.
*
Annie was waitingfor Vivian in the kitchen, tea cups ready. She was just about brimming with whatever she wanted to say.
“I’m not listening to anything—”
“Oh, shush, Viv. You are my sister and you know I love you, but you don’t have all the facts. Sit down, have a scone while I’m pouring the tea.”
