Page 99 of Mountain Grump
I clenchmy hands into fists on top of my thighs.
This bench is uncomfortable, but the uneven boards below my ass aren’t enough to distract me from the shouts and the fucking shrill whistle sounds coming from the lawyer’s office.
I should’ve gone in there with Tilda.
Should’ve insisted.
Because whatever is going down isn’t going down smoothly.
Obviously, her nasty family members weren’t going to be happy about Tilda inheriting everything. Or almost everything.
But to yell?
I’m a bastard. A grumpy piece of shit most of the time. But I can’t imagine a single scenario that would make me shout at a family member.
That whistle sounds again, and I turn my head toward the closed door.
How loud must that be inside the fucking office?
Silence follows.
I glance down at my watch.
The plane should be refueled and ready to go by now.
I’ll see if Tilda wants to do a quick stop for food on the way back to the airport. Maybe I’ll take her to that burrito place I like. We can get them to go. Eat them in the air above the clouds.
It’s my favorite meal.
And when we’re back home, maybe I can ask to come over.
Maybe we can?—
The door to the office swings open and slams into the wall.
My wildlife training once again comes in handy as I don’t react to the stampede of Wrights—or whatever their names are—as they pour out into the hall.
And head straight for me.
Slowly, I straighten my spine and loosen my fists.
“Is this him?” One of the horrible women points at me. “I thought this was your driver?”
Ignoring her, I keep my attention on the door.
More people file out.
But none of them are my girl.
My jaw clenches.
But then pretty purple hair appears, and I stand.
Her eyes are wide.
Her teeth are digging into her lower lip.
And her fingers are twisted into the top tier of her skirt.
