Page 5 of Fireworks & Forehead Kisses

Forbes had run a piece on my grandfather passing away and interviewed me as his successor. As of now, I was merely acting CEO. My grandfather started his company on Christmas Day, and he’d always stipulated that in the event of his death, the company would be transferred to his successor on December 25th. He was eccentric that way. Since it was only March, I had another nine months of holding the interim title ahead of me.

“Where’s Ellen?”

Ellen Murphy was the live-in support I’d arranged to be here through the week, and then I planned to be Gran’s support on the weekends. Ellen was supposed to start today. I hadn’t seen any cars other than my grandmother’s Bentley.

Dorothy’s smile remained in place. “She’s gone.”

“Gone. Gone where?”

“Mrs. Wolfe dismissed her.”

“Dismissed her?”

“Let her go,” she rephrased.

“Let her go,” I repeated.

Dorothy nodded.

“She fired her?” I clarified.

“I believe she hired someone else.”

“Who?”

“An Ashley Thompson, I believe.”

“Ashley Thompson.”

“Yes.”

“Who is Ashley Thompson?”

“The woman Mrs. Wolfe hired.”

I didn’t think Dorothy was being deliberately difficult. But it was clear that Dorothy wasn’t entirely comfortable having this conversation. My grandfather was not an easy man, and I feared that she was conditioned to walk on eggshells. The last thing I wanted was to make her feel uneasy.

“Thank you, Dorothy.”

She immediately relaxed once I’d moved on. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine. Where is my grandmother?”

“She’s in the sunroom.”

I nodded and headed to the back of the house as questions filled my mind. What was my grandmother thinking letting Ellen go? Who was Ashley Thompson? Where had she gotten two Clydesdales from?

When I walked into the room, I found Gran seated beside the fireplace in her armchair. She was wearing her reading glasses and looking at something on her iPad.

“I heard you had a busy day.”

Gran lifted her head and peered at me over her glasses. “Did I?”

“Why did you—” I stopped mid-sentence when I nearly tripped over a large brown lump. When I looked down, I saw a dog. “Who is that?”

“Rufus,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Rufus?” I repeated. I found myself doing that a lot since I’d arrived.

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