Page 4 of Tessa's Trust

She sighed. “Don’t tell me; it was part of your contract?”

I grinned. “Yeah. Sadie wants me to go on a date with each of her great-nephews. It’s not a big deal. We’re just having dinner at McCloskey’s, and then I’ll head back over the pass.”

“McCloskey’s for a date?” she murmured. “That’s not exactly romantic.”

“Good,” I burst out. “This is contractual. I’m not interested in Bobbo. I haven’t seen the guy in what? Ten years, at least.”

“Oh, I see him all the time,” Nonna said. “He is too old for you, though. What is he, like thirty-five?”

“I think so.” Bobbo had been a high school football star when I was still in elementary school—a huge linebacker. “I just remember he seemed like a large kid.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s a big farmer now. He’s got quite a few acres, and I heard he broke up with his fiancée not too long ago. Apparently, the woman had quite a temper,” she said, the beeping of a microwave coming over the line. “I don’t think he’s Italian.”

So much for Bobbo, then. I turned my head and sneezed again, searching for a Kleenex in my purse.

“Bless you,” she said. “Obviously, we need to clean that place.”

“Obviously,” I agreed. “I’m working on it now, but I don’t want to get too dusty before dinner. Besides, isn’t Brando an Italian name?”

“Huh,” she said thoughtfully. “I don’t know, but I don’t see you living on a farm.”

The woman definitely knew me. “No, I think I’d rather be here in town.”

Calling Silverville a town might be a little silly, considering it was two blocks of businesses and a county courthouse. But still, I didn’t want to be way out in the middle of nowhere. Not that I was interested in Bobbo. I didn’t know the guy but maybe we’d have a nice dinner.

Nonna cleared her throat. “After dinner with Bobbo, why don’t you stay the night here? The roads are only going to get worse, and I don’t think the snow’s supposed to stop all night.”

“I’ll think about it. I need to start packing my apartment and was planning to do that tomorrow.”

“You can’t do that all by yourself,” Nonna said. “I assume you’re moving to the second floor of your new building? Those steps aren’t easy to navigate while carrying boxes. We used to have rummage sales up there once in a while, and I remember nearly tripping a few times.”

She wasn’t wrong. “I know,” I said. “But my lease is up tomorrow, and I have to be out by Monday.”

“Oh, my. All right. I’ll get your cousins on it. They’ll come help you.”

I wanted to protest, but frankly, I needed the help. “Okay, great, Nonna. Thank you.”

Nobody could say no to Nonna, so at least that was taken care of. I hadn’t done it on purpose, but things were falling into place nicely.

“All right. Call me after your date and tell me if you’re heading over the pass so I can worry the whole time or if you’re going to stay with us for the night. I have huckleberry pie.”

“I’ll be over after my date,” I murmured. She knew I couldn’t resist huckleberry pie, and the guilt trip worked as planned.

“Oh, that’s good. What a smart decision. All right. Have a lovely date.” She hung up. About six months ago, she’d stopped saying goodbye and just ended every call like some executive from New York. I think she fancied herself the chess master of us all, so it greatly amused me. So long as none of my cousins started picking up the habit, I thought it was kind of sweet.

Sighing, I turned back to the building’s interior and wondered what to do with the stacks of extra lumber in the far corner. Maybe one of my cousins needed it for a project or something.

I worked quietly for another couple of hours, creating piles of items to keep, stuff to throw away, and building supplies that somebody in the family might want.

Glancing at my watch, I gasped. Oh, crap, I had to run. I looked at the windows to make sure nobody was outside, and darkness had already fallen, then tore my shirt up and over my head before pulling it back down, making sure it wasn’t too dusty. It looked all right.

I finger-combed my hair and grabbed some colored lip gloss from my purse before dusting off my jeans and hurriedly putting on my boots. After pulling on a heavy coat and gloves, I hustled outside into the billowing weather, forced back a foot by the freezing wind. Man, it was cold. I ducked my chin into my coat and started to jog across the now-snowy sidewalk the two blocks to McCloskey’s.

Bobbo was waiting outside, his hands in his pockets and his body huddled with no coat.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi,” he echoed. “It’s freezing. Come inside.”

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