Total pages in book: 9
Estimated words: 8106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 41(@200wpm)___ 32(@250wpm)___ 27(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 8106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 41(@200wpm)___ 32(@250wpm)___ 27(@300wpm)
Should she start feeling suspicious or is divine will at work? Maybe it's even both?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
One
AFTER CALLING THE LOCAL midwife to ask about which ingredients were safe to use when making drinks for pregnant women, Vixen briskly twisted her auburn locks in a bun and got to work.
Ginger was harvested from the garden at the back, freshly picked lemons were squeezed to the very last drop, and there was much mixing and tasting before the final concoction was carefully poured into a lovely glass pot.
She placed a jar of honey next to the pot before serving everything on a wooden tray, and Claire was already sniffing in appreciation as Vixen poured her a cup.
"What is it?"
"Hot ginger lemonade." Vixen held her breath as Claire took a sip. "You can add some honey if you'd like it sweeter."
The other woman shook her head with a smile, and Vixen breathed a sigh of relief.
"This is perfect," Claire said with a blissful sigh.
"I'm relieved to hear that," Vixen admitted cheekily, "since this is my first time making it."
"Oh, please," her friend scoffed. "Stop acting like you don't know everything you make tastes heavenly."
The rest of their conversation continued on the same note, the banter between them tinged with laughter and good-natured teasing.
A phone call from Claire's husband had the other woman excusing herself from the table, and when her friend came back, Vixen felt it was the ideal moment to address the elephant in the room.
"I'm sorry about your great-aunt's passing."
"She was like a second mother to me growing up," Claire shared in a wistful tone. "I really wish I had the chance to see her and say goodbye..."
Vixen quietly studied her friend. The other woman's grief was apparent, but something else was there...
"Is everything alright?" she asked gently. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Just let me know if there's anything I can do to help..."
"It's not exactly a problem, but..." Claire shifted in her seat and glanced outside the windows as if needing help to find the right words to say. "I told you why Scott and I flew to Denver, right?"
"Is this about your inheritance?" Vixen remembered Claire telling her about being asked by her late great-aunt's lawyer to stay behind for the reading of the will.
"I did inherit something, yes. But you probably wouldn't guess what it is."
"Is it a music box? A key? Her diary?" Vixen simply couldn't resist anytime someone told her she "wouldn't" be able to guess X or Y. "Or maybe it's—-" Something else completely, Vixen thought as her voice trailed off, with Claire having retrieved a folded sheet of paper from her bag.
Claire handed it to her, saying, "It's Great-Aunt Joy's letter for me."
Fancy, Vixen thought absently as she carefully unfolded it. The paper was thick, cream-colored, and textured, and the initials of Claire's great-aunt were embossed in gold at the bottom. The letter was short but handwritten, and the penmanship was so exquisite it could've passed as a sample for a calligraphy book.
"What do you think?"
Vixen's brows furrowed. What was she supposed to think?
"My great-aunt is a huge fan of Agatha Christie," Claire shared. "Have I ever told you that?"
Vixen's eyes widened when she realized where her friend was going. "You think this is supposed to be a secret message?"
"It's what my guts are telling me," Claire admitted, "and I was hoping you'd help me figure it out."
"But—-"
"Just keep it with you," her friend pleaded, "see what you can make of it."
Vixen was about to make a face and laugh when she realized her friend wasn't joking. "Claire, c'mon. Really?"
"Yes. Really."
Claire's tone was adamant, and Vixen didn't know whether to feel flattered or alarmed. "Why are you so sure it's not just a letter?"
"It's what guts tell me."
"That's not a valid reason—-"
"It is to me," Claire insisted, "so can you please just try?"
"Do I need to remind you that I only read mysteries for fun? I don't even consider myself an amateur sleuth. I make coffee for a living—-"
"You're also all I have, so please? I won't be disappointed if you don't find anything. All I ask is that you try. Will you? Pretty, pretty please? If not for me, then what about your future goddaughter? Don't you think it's worth a shot, if this letter could be a way for Scott and me to give our baby a better life?"
Two
"THIS IS THE FINAL STEP. Once you've signed this contract, the house is all yours, and you'll be a bona fide member of our community."
Rule skimmed over the document and couldn't help raising a brow when he saw what some of the conditions were.
He was no stranger to property investments, and the house Rule was about to buy was by no means the most expensive one to join his portfolio.
Even so, this marked the billionaire's first experience in purchasing a home with a uniquely charitable set of requirements. Making a time deposit in the local bank was just one of them, along with other remarkable conditions, such as his personal participation in both the summer fair and Christmas potbless.