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“So,” she breathes, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. “Evelyn and Olive Tanner broke into Praying Paws last night. Paul Tanner, you know—” She rambles on about something else, but a dull roar starts in my ears, making me dizzy. “Oh, Isaac. You know, Paul, right? The deputy. He—”
“What do you mean, they broke in?” I snap, then force myself to reign it in as my eyes dart over my surroundings. Shit. I exhale deeply. “Are they alright?”
“What? Yes,” she scoffs dismissively. “I overheard Tilly Kane going on about it. She heard from Mr. McTavish himself. Olive let out all the mice and the python! From what Tilly was goin’ on about, it sounded like an almighty bloodbath. Can you believe that?”
Actually, yes, I can believe that. It sounds exactly like something Olive would do. Eve, on the other hand?
Well, she’d do it for Olive. I don’t think there’s much she wouldn’t do for that girl. Which makes me worry. If she doesn’t know how to say no to Olive, she could manipulate Eve and get her to do her bidding. Apparently, she already has, if Mary’s information can be trusted.
And it usually can be. She’s the town gossip for a reason.
“Is that all you’re calling me about?” I drawl, feigning a calm I don’t feel. What I do feel is an overwhelming urge to drive back to Divinity and redden Eve’s ass for taking a risk like that. It was foolish. Selfish, even.
“Aren’t you—but Eve—” She pauses and I can just picture her mouth gaping open. “She should be punished, Isaac.”
“How I choose to handle things with my stepdaughter isn’t your business,” I say darkly, my hackles rising. “Now, do you have anything else for me, Mary?” My jaw tenses at the silence on the other end of the phone. “Do you have everything set up?”
“Yes, sir,” she mutters. “Everything is ready. The signs, posters, flyers, and buttons. The ad in the paper is ready to go, too.”
“Perfect.” I let out a relieved breath. Those are a few things I can check off my list. Despite Mary’s affinity for gossip, she’s a great secretary of sorts. Which is why I’ve used her to organize the church bake sales and events since Jane’s passing, as well as a myriad of other tasks.
Jane was far better, and the congregation loved her more, but Mary is a fine replacement. For now.
“Of course,” she simpers. “Anything else I can do for you, you just let me know.”
I take another deep swallow of my water, finishing it off. I lift my free hand, signaling to the waitress for a refill. She smiles politely and nods before quickly darting toward the long, polished bartop on the other side of the hotel restaurant.
I smirk to myself. Good service.
Mary makes a sound, reminding me that she's on the other line. I run my finger down the side of my glass, collecting the beaded condensation while I think.
There’s nothing she can do for me while I’m here. I’m prepared. I have been all month. Besides, these trips are becoming a run-of-the-mill thing. Back home, however…
“She’s okay? There weren’t any charges for breaking in? Property damage she’s at fault for?” If so, I’ll need to move some things around to pay any fees. It’ll be tight, but I’ll do it to wipe Eve’s mess clean.
“Uh.” Mary clears her throat. “No. Not that I’ve heard. Mr. McTavish let them off with a warning since he hadn’t actually locked up yet and Chase Tanner took care of the rest.” She huffs, muttering something about the man having more money than God. I ignore her comment and the irritation it causes.
“Wait,” I growl. “Did they or did they not break in??”
She sighs heavily. “No, not really.” Lord help me. This woman and her exaggerations. “But you know Olive. Anything could happen with that girl.”
I nod absently, adjusting my collar again as the waitress deposits my drink on the table before me, removing the old one. She smiles sweetly, catching my attention. Her body is thin and willowy. The black dress fits her slight curves like a glove, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her long hair is up in a high, chic ponytail, showing off the long expanse of her neck.
She’s beautiful.
But when my eyes catch on the deep brown color of hers, I realize it’s all wrong.
Her hair is dark, not golden. Instead of thick bouncy curls that fall in cascading waves just above a thick, biteable ass, her hair is pin-straight and falls to the center of a thin, shapeless body.
The realization that I don’t like the differences is startling.
“Anything else, Mr. Payne?” she asks, her voice heavy with innuendo that catches me off guard. My brows peak.
Holding a finger up to the waitress, I return to my call. “Thanks, Mary. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.” Without waiting for her response, I end the call and smile at the waitress. “I’m good, sweetheart. Thank you.”
Her smile slips momentarily, and her body twitches, as though she’s disappointed by my answer.
“Of course, Mr. Payne.” Her repetition of my name doesn’t escape me. If anything, it makes me sit up taller. I’m known here. It’s nice. “Good luck today.” With that, she gives my body one last appraising look before turning away.
