Page 47 of Feast

Spence froze for a second at the name, then tugged the shirt off the hanger. “Madison’s helping her?”

“Well, of course. It’s her house Halley’s moving into.”

Now he sat on the edge of his bed, the shirt dangling from limp fingers. “I thought Madison lived in Chicago.”

“Oh, she moved to Grand Rapids last month,” his mother said cheerfully. “I told you that.”

He flopped back on the bed. “No, you didn’t.”

“I’m sure I did. She actually finished tying up loose ends at her old job right before the wedding, and started at St. Thomas College the first week of January.”

And the hits just keep on coming.“She’s working at St. Thomas?”

“Your old stomping grounds,” his mother confirmed. “In fact, she only lives a few blocks from campus.”

Which meant she was only a couple of miles from him, Spence thought, and mentally ran through every curse he knew.

“Speaking of Madison…”

Oh, shit.“What about her?”

“I asked her if she knew of any accountants who could give you a hand with your taxes—”

“Mom, I’ve got it handled.”

Heather rolled on as though he hadn’t even spoken. “And she said she’d be happy to help.”

Spence scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fine,” he said, knowing anything else would be ignored. “Tell her to send me some names and I’ll check them out.”

“Oh, no.” Heather let out a trilling laugh. “I meant she’d be happy to helpherself.”

Spence frowned at the phone. “Huh?”

“She’s an accountant, Spence,” Heather replied with a disappointed tsk. “I swear, you don’t even listen when I talk.”

He was dead certain she’d never said anything about Madison moving back to Michigan, or being an accountant, or any other damn thing except that she was Stephen’s oldest daughter, but he knew it’d be a waste of breath to point that out to her. “Look, Mom—”

“I know you want to do it yourself,” Heather said, deftly plowing over his objections. “But I really think you should let her look things over. Just to make sure you’re on the right track.”

“Mom—”

“You’ve put so much hard work into the business,” she continued. “Not to mention a big chunk of money.”

The money she’d saved for his college fund, and gifted to him without question when he’d said he was going to open the business.

“I just don’t want to see you lose it over a silly mistake,” Heather continued, her voice softening. “It would really ease my mind, Spencer. Please?”

He had to give her credit, he thought with reluctant admiration. The woman knew how to layer on the guilt. “Okay, Mom. I’ll talk to her.”

“Thank you, darling,” she sighed, sounding relieved. She was too smart to let it show, but he’d bet his business license she was mentally doing a smug victory dance. “She should be there shortly.”

“Who should be here shortly?” he asked, then the other shoe dropped. “Wait, Madison is coming over here?”

“She said she’d pop over around three.”

Fuck!

He sent a panicked glance at his bedside clock, the one he kept eleven minutes fast to keep himself from running late. It read three-oh-nine. “Mom, you can’t just send people to my house without telling me."

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