Page 5 of Fifty-Fifty

“Look. I’m not trying to cause a problem with your boyfriend, okay?” I try to explain as I hold my hands up in surrender. “I just need to get this shit sorted so I can go back home. That’s it.”

She sighs like she might answer me before nibbling her lower lip and coming to her decision. “I’m sorry, but it ain’t gonna happen. You’re gonna have to wait ‘til your meetin’ this afternoon. When a lawyer is present.” And with that, she walks out the door, not even bothering with another glance in my direction. My anger swells as my gaze trails her the entire way. And the entire time, I curse my lack of control when it comes to a spicy brunette with way too much sass.

Chapter Three

Noah

The minutes move by at a snail’s pace until the time it’s finally four in the afternoon. My foot taps anxiously against the worn wooden floors while sitting across from Mr. Jenkins. He’s an old guy with a gray combover and a giant beer belly that would make the Michelin Man jealous.

Glancing at the clock, I can see that good ol’ Beau is late.

Shocker.

I’m about to suggest we start without him when the door swings open, revealing the woman from the coffee shop.

My brows furrow instantly.

What the hell?

“Hi, y'all. Sorry I’m late. Mac didn’t wanna go down for her nap, which isn’t very surprisin’ since she hasn’t taken naps for a while now, but I tried to wear her out before I dropped her off. I didn’t want her to be too much of a burden for the sitter, ya know?”

Mr. Jenkins stands and offers his hand from across his desk. “Not a problem, Beau. I’m just glad you could make it on such short notice. Thanks for comin’ today.”

She grins widely before turning her attention to me. “Don’t mention it. I’m Beau. Beau Williams. Nice to meet ya.”

My jaw hits the floor.

“You’re Beau?”

“Why, yes. Yes, I am. Now what can I do for ya?” Her voice is sickly sweet, making me want to wring her neck.

My eyes narrow. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

I don’t know why I even ask. I’m positive she was the girl from the coffee shop. I guess I’m hoping to call her out on it, but I won’t be surprised if she pretends otherwise.

Her lips tilt up slightly before batting her lashes at me. “I don’t believe we have. I think I’d remember the... tattoos.” She motions to my right arm that’s covered in swirling ink before turning back to Mr. Jenkins and effectively ignoring me. “All right then, let’s get this started, shall we?”

Mr. Jenkins nods his approval before taking a seat in the swivel chair and motioning for us to do the same.

Gingerly, I sit back down.

“All right now. Let’s start from the beginning. I called both of you, separately, after the late James Jamison’s funeral—”

“Which Mr. Noah did not attend,” Beau interrupts. Her voice is dripping with disdain, and my hands clench at my sides. I know what she’s thinking, and I don’t appreciate the sentiment. I’m also pissed that her opinion is getting to me, poking me like a hot branding iron.

“I didn’t know about the funeral until after I received the phone call that I was in his will.” My defense tumbles out of me before I can stop it. “So don’t assume I didn’t want to be there. You don’t know me.” I look her straight in the eyes. “Don’t pretend like you do.”

The little spitfire glares at me with another asinine comment on the tip of her tongue when Mr. Jenkins continues, “Now, now. Let’s focus for a minute, shall we? I called you both, separately,” he repeats, “and informed y'all of Mr. Jamison’s will and testament. You were given two options. Do y'all remember what those options were?”

We both nod. Although, to be honest, I was drunk off my ass that night and only remember the words dead and inn. I agreed without batting an eye to every little thing he said. And it looks like that’s the problem, isn’t it?

“All right now. I’m gonna go over them one more time to refresh your memories. Option one. We sell the property and split the assets fifty-fifty. Simple. Option two. Beau Williams continues to stay on the premises and handles the day-to-day business and all that it entails. At the end of the month, Ms. Williams splits the net income between the two of y'all, after the bills have been paid for, of course. Now, do you remember what y'all both decided on?”

Beau speaks up, “Yeah. We agreed on option number two.”

I interject, “We had initially agreed on option two until Beau cheated me on the first check.”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s a load of horse shit. I paid you the right amount.”

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