“That’s too bad. Though, it seemed like everyone in town was at the cemetery that day, so he had a good send off.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“So, what brings you to town?”
I gesture down the street, then let my arm drop to my side. “Gotta meet with the attorney. They’re reading the will today. Guess he left me something. What, I can’t imagine.”
Scott nods. “Well, I won’t keep you. But hey, maybe we could grab a beer before you leave.”
“Sounds good.” I lift my chin to the business. “Your old man leave the place to you?”
He chuckles. “Nah, he’s still around, but he made me manager.”
I grin. “Well, that’s something, huh?”
He shrugs and lifts his chin to my cut. “Probably not as exciting as your life.”
I pat his shoulder and lean close. “It’s not all booze and women, man.”
He gets a laugh out of that. “You say so.”
“I’ll talk to you later.”
With that, I move on up the street and find the attorney’s office. The gold paint on the glass reads,Carlyle and Carouthers. The door leads to a staircase up to the second floor. A receptionist waits beyond another glass door.
“May I help you, sir?” She gives me the once-over, her smile fading.
“I’m here for a meeting with Mason Carlyle. Reading of my grandfather’s will.”
“You must be James Joseph Reardon.”
“Everyone calls me JJ.”
“Yes, sir. Right this way.” She leads me down a hall to a door and taps on it, then pushes it open and announces me. I step into a fancy office with dark carved wood and a fireplace against the back wall. In front of a set of windows that overlook Main Street is a giant desk. The man behind it stands when I enter. He’s gray-haired, with wire-rimmed glasses and a comb-over. His suit is nicely tailored, and judging by the décor, I’m sure this office rakes in the dough.
Sitting on two of the four chairs across from the desk are my mother and father. Neither appear happy to see me. My father actually huffs, and my mother tsks when her eyes sweep over my jeans, boots, and leather cut.
I hear her mumble under her breath. “He couldn’t find a button-down shirt, for God’s sake?”
I ignore her and shake Mason Carlyle’s hand.
“Please have a seat, Mr. Reardon. We’re waiting for one more person to join us.”
Ah yes, my brother’s widow. The lovely Rebecca, whom I’ve never met.
“Would you like some coffee while we wait?”
“No thanks,” I mutter and ignore his invitation to sit, instead wandering around the room, checking out the bookcases and coming to a stop by the fireplace mantel. There’s a stuffed pheasant on one side and several crystal statues on the other. What makes a man want to stuff a pheasant?
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot my father folding his arms over his barrel-chest, his fat neck turning red as he glares at me like I’ve just ruined his day.
I lean a palm on the mantel and stare at the fire, telling myself to just get through this damn meeting without saying a word to the man. That’s my plan, anyway. Whether I can stick to it is another story. I’ve been a disappointment to him since the day I was born. after all, he had David, the perfect son. What did he need me for?
CHAPTER TWO
Rebecca—
I drive down Main Street, my eyes scanning for a parking spot. I have to drive several blocks before I find a space.That’s wonderful. I smile to myself. I’ve always thought this town is so cute and unique, like I’ve walked right into a Christmas card. I’m glad it’s prospering.
