Page 16 of Moonlit Temptation

But my parents are like my own personal rainclouds, always overshadowing my sunshine. And today, I have an inkling that I'm going to bask in the sunshine.

8

EVANGELINE

“Miss Evangeline Carter,”the receptionist announces as she opens the door and ushers me into an office. Like I'm some kind of royalty that needs announcing.

A man behind a long oval-shaped table pushes to his feet. I'd put him in his mid-sixties with thick chestnut hair cropped short. His suit is dark and boxy, but his smile is bright and sincere. The gray hair at his temples matches the streaks in his neatly trimmed goatee.

He clasps his hands in front of him, inclining his head a little. “Miss Carter, thank you for coming today.”

“Of course.”

“Please take a seat.” He sweeps his arm out in front of him, gesturing to the three chairs in a movement worthy of the infamous Vanna White.

I take a seat in the middle and cross my legs at the ankle, trying to maintain a calm exterior despite the nerves in my stomach. It feels like a bundle of porcupine needles rolling around in there.

I can't explain why I'm so nervous except that I am. I have a feeling the results of this meeting could change my life. Or maybe I'm projecting a bit, considering I'm currently jobless.

And staying at a motel. But that's my choice. Cora already offered her house multiple times.

“I'm Mr. Lee,” he says, extending a hand for me to shake. I take it, noticing how firm his grip is without being crushing. “I've handled your late grandmother's affairs for many years now.” He pauses, glancing toward the table with a slight smile. “We'd developed an unconventional sort of friendship over the years. Grab a cup of coffee at the diner and talk about those fake dating shows. My wife's obsessed with them, and I guess somewhere along the way, I started liking them too.”

I nod, my own smile tugging up the corners of my mouth. “Sounds like her. She was the best. And she had lots of opinions on those shows.”

I still remember during the weekends we'd spend together; she'd talk my ear off until I caved and watched an episode. And before I knew it, we'd be down four hours and an armful of snacks.

“My sincerest condolences, Miss Carter. Jo was a bright spot in our community here in Rosewood, and she is sorely missed,” Mr. Lee says softly.

“She is,” I agree, keeping my voice quiet.

He exhales quickly. “Well, let's get down to it, yeah? I bet you're eager to hear the news.”

He leans forward, the creak of his chair almost echoing around the quiet room. His hands are steady as he slides a brown file folder across the table and flips the top open. “As you know, your grandmother led a remarkable life and left quite the legacy—not only in her community but also in her will.”

Mr. Lee clears his throat and pulls out a stack of papers from the folder. “Her estate is being divided between her children and grandchildren.”

I nod, already having pieced that much together. My mother has made it clear that she expected a generous share—if not all—of Nana Jo's assets. Despite the fact that Mom hasn't willingly come back to Rosewood in at least fifteen years.

Though come to think of it, I'm not sure if all of the grandchildren are even here today. It's hard to say with these private readings, but I feel like Cora would have mentioned it.

Mr. Lee grabs a pair of glasses from his breast pocket and perches them on the edge of his nose. “However, as you know, she left personal directives for everyone.” He clears his throat before he reads from the paper in front of him. “And to my granddaughter, Evangeline Bailey Carter, I leave my house and property on Magnolia Lane, as well as all the contents inside. I also leave her one-quarter of my collection of vintage jewelry. It is my wish that Evangeline always have a place to call home in Rosewood, but should she choose to sell, she will retain the profit.”

My eyes widen and my lips part in stunned silence, unable to fully process what I've just heard. Did Nana Jo really leave me her house?

A wave of emotion cascades over me and memories flash across my consciousness in an instant. Almost every happy moment in my childhood can be traced back to Magnolia Lane.

My heart thunders inside my chest. “Oh my god. That's . . . that's—did you say herhouse?” I whisper, my words failing me as shock holds me hostage.

He adjusts his glasses and sets the papers down on the file folder. He closes the folder with a flick of his wrist and pushes it across the table toward me. “Yes, Miss Carter. Your grandmother thought very fondly of you. Of her grandchildren.”

My mind races, too fast to pin down any one thought. But one emotion dominates all the others: love.

Even from beyond this plane of existence, Nana Jo is still loving me, wrapping me up in warmth and genuine affection.

“Thank you,” I manage to say, my voice still shaky with disbelief. “Thank you so much, Mr. Lee.”

“Of course, Miss Carter. This folder is yours. You'll find all the details in here. The deed to the house has already been transferred to your name and filed with the bank. There is no mortgage as your grandmother had paid it off some twenty-odd years ago. And she had set up a trust with enough to cover property taxes on all three acres for at least the next twenty.”

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