Page 21 of Just My Ex

“You want to know what I think?” When Henry gazes at me, there’s an unfortunate appearance of gooseflesh on my arms. “Your grandfather really loved you and appreciated how well you took care of him.”

Something in his gaze burns me, some kindness and gentleness I’d forgotten existed. He addresses his family. “Quinn didn’t let a week go by without visiting him, taking him homemade food, helping him clean. When a large mirror broke during a minor earthquake, Quinn took time off work to help him clean it up and she sat with him because he was nervous about the quake.”

“He didn’t say as much, but yeah, I think he was a little shook up by it,” I say. I giggle under my breath.Shook up?That’s funny because it was an earthquake.

Yeah. I tend to make jokes to deflect when I’m stressed. I guess it’s not very mature.

“I don’t blame him for giving you the money,” Oliver says. “Quinn’s a good egg. And a good cook.”

“Thanks. It’s a hobby, I guess.” I glance at Henry without meaning to. Maybe some part of me needs validation. Henry nods, his gaze soft as silk.

I don’t cook as much now, but he used to love my cooking. When he was home, we usually cooked together, always making a huge mess, and getting into “rock, paper, scissors” mock fights over who had to clean up. Those mock fights involved a lot of chasing each other through the house. Silly, idle threats. And kissing. Often, there were a lot of physical things happening between us. And then, usually, he just ended up cleaning the kitchen anyway.

Mercy. Being around him is going to be harder than I thought.

And yeah, I helped my grandpa out. My grandma passed away when I was a teen, and ever since then, on Fridays and Sundays, I’d go visit him. We’d work on Grandma’s petunia beds and talk politics and about Grandma and her obsession with colorful scarves, loud shoes, and bright lipstick. And I usually brought him food because I know my way around a kitchen, and he had a tendency to forget to eat.

Visiting him was fun. And he was the only family member who would actually talk about my waning relationship with Henry. Everyone else treated me like I was a leper when my marriage dissolved. Like our marriage was the plague.

We can’t discuss it. It’s their business.

But not Grandpa. He knew I needed to talk about it like I needed air.

“So anyway.” Henry’s ramrod straight posture and intimidating stare bring the room back to his attention. “Quinn was named sole beneficiary, Raymond was upset, and has launched a campaign the last several months to intimidate her into declaiming the money, trying to prove she’s unfit to inherit.” He snorts. “It’s ridiculous, but it’s buying him time. As soon as probate ends and the judge signs off on everything, though, Quinn will get the money and that will be the end of it.”

“Wait.” Elianna raises a hand. “The uncle wouldn’t even get the money if he successfully contests the will?”

“No.” Henry’s jaw hardens. “He doesn’t seem to care at this point, trying to intimidate her into privately gifting him some of it, making sure she doesn’t get any of it at all, or trying to ensure she’s going to feel bad about inheriting it.”

“My grandfather left a note for me with the lawyers,” I say. “He said that his decision was unorthodox, but I needed to trust him. He said it wouldn’t be helpful to anyone else in the family to have the money. It was meant for me and me alone. And if I declaim it, or if the contest is successful, it would go straight to AA, one of my grandfather’s favorite organizations.”

Henry resumes his position as Head Honcho over the Protection of Quinn and Navie. I swear he thinks he’s on some MI6 show or something.

“Wow,” Oakley breathes. “That’s dark.”

I tuck my head. What more can I even say about this?

A beat, and then Henry resumes his speech. “I know you’ve all got things to do but there are several things to go over and this won’t work unless we’re all on the same page.”

He toggles on a little remote control and a list of things Raymond has done is posted. I squirm. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe all the odd things he’s done.

The next slide mentions the hotel’s security system, Black Card, which is, apparently, one of the best in the world.

It’s not until Henry goes to the slide following that one that dread fills my soul. Icy, icy dread.

“Here’s Quinn’s list of dos and don’ts. These are standard. I have all my clients do these things, bare minimum. Clients who abide by these will cut the chances of an incident by seventy percent. I don’t have a team here, like I’m used to. And I’m not asking you to become my team, but I’m asking you to become informed, and to help me by keeping your ears and eyes open.”

With each line item, my jaw drops more and more.

*Don’t leave the premises without a chaperone.

*Don’t frequent the same locations or businesses.

*Keep automobile gas tank at least half-full.

*Don’t accept packages or gifts from unknowns.

*Keep car/house/bedroom doors and windows locked.

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