Page 38 of The Accidental Witch

She held up five fingers. “Five. All mostly decent guys who got tired of her pushing them around and dangling her money and power in their faces. Our biological father, mine and Steadman’s, that is, died when I was ten in a boating accident, but I never saw him much anyway. He left my mother when I was three and Steadman was five. He wasn’t all that interested in us.”

There’d been a time when Robbie had prayed he’d come back, even if he hardly ever called or took them anywhere. As a little girl, she wanted to experience what all the other girls her age were experiencing. Daddy/daughter dances, a lap to sit on when she skinned her knee. Father’s Day…

“What about your brother, Steadman?”

Now she rolled her eyes. “He’s as bad as my mother. He flies from country to country, beach to beach, goes wherever the party is and he’s a misogynist of the worst kind. We’ve never been close. He was always my mother’s pet and she trained him well. I’d bet a kidney he’s as caught up in this mess Agatha made as she is. They’re being investigated right now. It’s why I left.” She paused and inhaled. “Okay, wait. I didn’t leave, she booted me out. But the intent was to leave after a big speech in front of her elitist friends about what a horrible human being she is. She just beat me to the punch.”

He tipped an imaginary hat to her. “That must have been something to see.”

She shrugged. “I just couldn’t take it anymore. After almost thirty-six years, I lost all the cookies in my cookie jar. As to what it was like, it’s kinda fuzzy. If you ask Tottington, I made a scene and stomped off like a petulant child. But as you know, he’s bigon decorum. I guess I didn’t really carehowit looked, I just wanted out.”

“And what about you? Did they investigate you?”

A couple of months after she’d moved out, the shit had proverbially hit the fan. “Did they ever, with a fine-tooth comb. They had a warrant to search my old apartment, my old office, all of it. They dragged me into interrogation after interrogation. The only smart thing I’d ever done where my mother and her business dealings were concerned was put my nose to the grindstone and do my job while keeping my mouth shut.”

“Damn, Robbie,” he said softly. “I thoughtmyfamily was screwed up.”

“I think it’s fair to say we’re neck and neck. No clear winner so far,” she joked. She had to or she’d cry.

“And now you’re living in a dingy apartment with your manservant and working at the Dollar General. That had to be a hard choice to make, Robbie. To leave all your creature comforts, all that money.”

“But I’m free, Greer,” she whispered. “I’m free from her horrible deeds. I’m free of her constant criticism and judgement. Free from working my fingers to the bone toward perfection that just doesn’t exist. I’mfree.”

His gentle smile soothed her as he took his hand from hers and tucked the duvet under her chin. “You’re a brave, brave woman, Ms. Tisdale. A brave woman who needs some sleep. Your eyes are red. You look exhausted.” Leaning over, he turned off the lamp. “I’ll be right here until Wanda comes to relieve me, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered, the outline of his strong body highlighted by the moonbeam shining in through the window, now becoming smaller as she began to close her eyes.

“Hey, one more thing, Robbie?”

Warm and comfortable, she asked, “Uh-huh?”

“I’m curious, if you don’t mind me asking. How did they catch your mother?”

Inhaling a shuddering breath, for the first time since all of that had gone down, she admitted, “Me. They caught her because I anonymously called the FBI and turned her in.”

Chapter

Eleven

Almost another week later, they all gathered with him in the murder basement as Greer watched Robbie practice riding Hervé, marveling at how good she’d become.

She navigated the basement, swerving around suits of armor and the enormously high ceilings like a Formula 1 race car driver.

Nina had a hand in teaching her how to move with the flow of air. The look of surprise when she saw for herself that Nina could fly would forever be emblazoned in his memory.

It had helped her embrace the usefulness of Hervé. Not to mention, he’d saved her from the Lost Lands. How he’d done it remained a mystery. It literally, to Greer’s knowledge, had never been done before. But Hervé had accomplished the impossible, and he was grateful.

They hadn’t talked again about the admission Robbie made last week, about turning her mother into the FBI, but he had to admire her balls. He had a zillion questions about how she’d found out what Agatha Tisdale was doing. Regardless, she knew what she had to do and she’d done it. Knowing her mother would cast her out and take away her living, she’d done it anyway.

The music of Dean Martin (one of Robbie’s favorite artists) echoed through the dungeon, along with her laughter as she raced along the ceiling, now that she’d warmed up to the idea of Hervé, leaving him feeling happier than he had in a very long time.

Spending all day, every day with her, teaching her all the things he could no longer do, made him happy, too. Being a part of this magic she had, even if it was Gwinnifer’s, left him feeling filled up—whole in a way he hadn’t since he’d come out of that coma.

Yet…she resisted most contact he made with her. The more attracted Greer became to Robbie, the less she appeared interested. Never one to force his attention on a woman, he’d begun making a concerted effort to keep his distance, but it damn sure wasn’t easy. Especially when she threw her cute butt up on Herve’s handle in those tight jeans she had on.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, looking down at his feet to get his composure before he looked back at Robbie making a figure eight.

“She’s fucking killing it, huh?” Nina asked as they leaned against the reception desk that had just that morning been installed, watching while Robbie dipped and dove.

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