Page 87 of Imperfect Arrangement
“God, I didnotjust hear that,” I groan, hurrying out of the room with Quill.
* * *
My eyes stay gluedto Quill as she splashes around the shallow end of the pool, her bright arm floaties keeping her afloat as she wiggles her tiny legs. Every so often, the buzz of a drill or the rhythmic hum of a saw pulls my attention back toward the house, but the guys remain out of sight from here.
I still can’t believe it. They’re building a ramp for Captain Lick. I didn’t even know Raymond noticed that my old dog has trouble walking up the steps.
“What are you thinking?” Daisy drawls from the other end of the pool.
As promised, Charles had her swimwear delivered in record time—or rather, an entire collection of pastel maternity bikinis, each cuter than the last.
I shrug, offering her a half-truth. “Thinking about the wedding estate.” In reality, Raymond has taken up permanent residence in every corner of my mind, leaving little room for anything else.
Daisy perks up instantly, the water rippling around her as she scoots closer. “Oh wow! I can’t imagine how exciting this must be for you.”
“It is,” I admit, “but it’s also kind of daunting. I still need to come up with a name for the property.”
Her eyes light up, and she practically bounces where she stands. “What are you thinking? I really love how your grandparents named the B and B after you. It’s so personal.”
A soft smile tugs at my lips. “Yeah, me too. I’m sure I’d love it just as much if it had a different name, but knowing it was named after me helps it feel like a second home every time I walk through those doors.”
Daisy pats my hand, her expression warm. “I’m so happy for you, Wills. You’ve waited so long for this, and now it’s finally happening.” Then her expression shifts, curiosity knitting her brows. “By the way, has your cousin contacted you again?”
I shake my head, my stomach twisting. I’ve been wondering the same thing. It’s been too long since I last heard from Gio or his lawyer. He fought me tooth and nail for months, yet now that the project is underway, it’s like he’s vanished.
“That’s strange, isn’t it?” Daisy muses, tapping her empty glass of sparkling water. Her forehead creases as she stares into the distance, and I can see the wheels turning in her mind. Then her eyes widen suddenly, a flash of realization lighting her face before she quickly schools her features, glancing away as if she’s too hesitant to share.
“What?” I ask, my voice cautious.
“I’m just…thinking. Could it be that he’s…gone?”
I tilt my head, mulling over her words. “Why would he suddenly disappear after fighting me for so long? Especially when his claim on Gramps’s land was stronger than mine.”
She chews her bottom lip before replying. “Maybe he got what he was really after.”
Her tone is careful, but her words make me bristle with unease. What is she trying to say?
Before I can dig deeper, Quill bobs over to us. “I’m tired,” she signs, clutching her oversized fish toy while water drips from her bright blue-and-green bikini.
“Then let’s get you out of here.” I climb out of the pool first, my flip-flops squishing on the wet deck as I help Quill and Daisy out. I grab a towel and gently dry Quill’s damp hair. Once I let her go, she settles into a recliner with her book. My little nerd.
“Want a snack, Bug?” I ask, grabbing a towel to dry myself. It’s nearing her snack time.
She shakes her head, signing, “I’m just thirsty.”
“Me too,” Daisy groans, perching gently onto the nearest lounge chair.
“Alright, I’ll get us some drinks.” Throwing on my cotton cover-up, I head toward the house. The back door creaks as I push it open.
The kitchen is quiet when I step inside, which isn’t unusual, as the staff comes later in the evenings to prep dinner. But the silence leaves too much room for my thoughts. Daisy’s words echo in my mind.
Is Gio really gone? If yes, then why, especially when he was winning?
Lost in my mental math, I grab a wooden tray from the counter and start arranging glasses. When I look into the fridge, I immediately spot sparkling water for Daisy, but Quill’s favorite juice is nowhere in sight. Grandpa Will would never let it run out. It has to be here somewhere. I bend forward, rummaging behind the bread basket, when I sense someone behind me.
Straightening, I glance over my shoulder, and there he is—Raymond. Standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, watching me like I’m the only thing worth looking at in the entire house.
He’s wearing faded jeans and a black T-shirt. I can’t believe that in a span of twenty-four hours, this man has gone from wearing suits like they were a uniform to ditching them completely and making casual wear look like haute couture.
