Page 59 of Dust Storm

“Miss Cass!” Gracie shouted as she bolted in from school and threw her backpack across the living room.

I looked up from my laptop and observed the melee as Christian’s children barreled in.

“Gracie, honey.” Christian’s mom, Claire, carted a cardboard diorama into the house and slid it onto the kitchen counter. “Miss Parker is still working.”

“Okay, but I need to talk to Miss Cass,” Bree announced when she strolled in.

Claire huffed. “Girls, head upstairs and do your homework.” She checked her watch. “Your father should be back in an hour or so. I’ve gotta head up to my house and get started on supper.”

“We’re fine,” they chirped.

Claire pointed a finger. “Give Miss Parker her space.”

Were they just going to keep talking about me like I wasn’t here?

“Yes ma’am,” the girls mumbled together as they tromped up the stairs.

Her stern gaze turned to me. “You need anything, sweetheart?”

The moniker usually would have made my skin prickle. I still wasn’t used to the homegrown workplace dynamic I had been thrust into, but it didn’t make me want to crawl out of my skin as much as it had when I first arrived.

“I’m fine. Thanks,” I said as I turned my attention back to the computer screen so Claire didn’t feel like she had to linger.

But linger, she did.

“You coming up to the house for dinner with the rest of the motley crew?”

I glanced at the time. “Thank you for your hospitality, but no. I’ll likely still be working.”

“Hospitality?” She let out a blustering huff. “Cass, there ain’t a shred of hospitality being doled out on this lot. I feed everyone because it’s what I do.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Now you can show up and eat a plate or you can ration whatever leftovers Chris has in his fridge. But this isn’t hospitality. It’s family. Learn the difference.”

And with that, she stomped out the door with the grace of a bull.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to keep the numbers on the screen from blurring together. I had a migraine from looking at this damn budget.

If Christian wanted a revitalization project that was larger than his wallet, he was going to get one.

I settled back into the blissful quiet and had just finalized the list of investors I needed to reach out to when thunder erupted from upstairs.

Bree and Gracie tumbled past each other as they fought for first place in getting down the steps.

“Miss Cass!” Gracie shouted.

“No, I want to talk to her first!” Bree hollered.

“I got down here first,” Gracie grunted as she elbowed her sister out of the way and rounded the corner into the living room.

“I’m older!”

“I don’t care!”

“I want to?—”

Without lifting my eyes from my screen, I raised my palm and stopped them in their tracks. The twin tornadoes ceased immediately.

I dropped my hands back onto the keyboard and typed the names of all the personal assistants that would still answer my calls. “What were the terms you all agreed to in exchange for information about my wedding dress?” I asked.

“Your lack of a wedding dress,” Bree corrected.

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