Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“Noodles has always wanted anything Mittens has,” Gwen said with a shake of her head. “That one is a handful, and Momma always told me that Sandy and Sparkles should never be left alone together. It must be hard taking care of them all on your own.”
“Well, I could use some help,” he admitted. “But I know how much you love your house.”
Gwen shrugged. “It’s a lot to take care of since Tom died. It’s awfully quiet.”
Quaid was so close to the finish line. He could taste it. He might even be able to fit some writing in before he was due in court if he could get them out of here soon. “You know, you could avoid a lot of problems if Gwen moves in with you, Stephen. You wouldn’t have to sell the place to give Gwen half the money. The cats would get to stay in the only home they’ve ever known. The dolls could stay in their cases. You could maybe even write down those stories about the dolls if you helped each other out.”
Gwen’s expression went dreamy. “Oh, I always thought those stories Momma told would make a wonderful book.”
“We could photograph the dolls so everyone would see how lovely they are.” Stephen reached for his sister’s hand. “I’m sorry we’ve been estranged. I’ve missed you, sister.”
Yes, he might get to finish that chapter if they left right now. He was already planning his hero’s next steps when he heard the bell on the office ring, and winced.
“I’ve missed you, too.” Gwen squeezed his hand. “Let’s go to the café and talk about this. Quaid, you’re a good boy, like your daddy. We’ll come back for the dolls. You take good care of them.”
He let out a sigh of relief. The bell had probably been his secretary coming back from her coffee run.
He could write away for the next . . .
Quaid got a good look at the time and realized he was late. So late.
He reached for his briefcase as the door to his office came open. “Cindy, you were supposed to tell me . . .”
That wasn’t Cindy standing in his doorway. No. The woman there didn’t at all resemble his sixty-five-year-old legal secretary who wore bulky cardigans even in the heat of summer because she weighed about ninety-five pounds soaking wet and was always cold.
This woman wasn’t close to cold. She was hot.
Dark hair cut in a chic bob that brushed her jawline. Pouty, perfect scarlet lips and dark eyes that seemed to zero in on him. She was dressed in a designer suit and some killer heels. That suit had been tailored to show off her every curve.
His writing could wait. Court could wait. The world could wait.
Please don’t let her be a client.
“How can I help you?”
Those gorgeous eyes of hers narrowed. “You could have helped me by showing up in court on time.” She glanced down at her watch. “Which was thirty minutes ago.”
Not a client, but there was no question the woman was irritated. However, he could be quite charming when he wanted to be. “It’s all right. The judge is very tolerant, and I think he has his yearly physical today so he’ll try to draw things out. It won’t work. I heard his wife telling Lila LaVigne to do the whole physical in his office if he doesn’t show up. Are you Geraldine’s niece? You should understand . . .”
He’d been ready to tell her he already had a plan in place to help Geraldine out since he was absolutely winning this case, but she interrupted him.
“I am Geraldine’s attorney, and we would like the courtesy of your presence in court since the judge won’t do what he should and give us a directed verdict.” Her arms folded across her chest, that glorious mouth of hers turning down into a frown.
That frown should have shut down his libido, but it did not. He kind of liked the thrum that was starting in his system. His life had become a boring cycle of work and family obligations, and a never-ending string of rejections when it came to the one thing he truly loved. This woman had him excited for the first time in years. “Geraldine hired herself an attorney. Now, that I wasn’t expecting. Where on earth did she find you? Houma? I know all three attorneys there. Did she go all the way to New Orleans?”
“I live here for now, though I did practice in New Orleans for years,” the woman said and then her expression changed, eyes widening. “Dare I ask why you have not one or two, but four Annabelle dolls? There is no way those aren’t haunted, and I’m not even a person who believes in those things.”
She might be the only woman in Louisiana who didn’t. He gestured toward the dolls. “They’re part of an estate I’m the executor of. I think I’ve settled that problem.” He needed to get the court thing out of the way so he could ask this woman out. She was new in town, and there were a bunch of men who would take one look at her and try to pounce. He’d like to pounce first and see if this insane attraction led somewhere. He started for the door, briefcase in hand. “I was in a negotiating session over those dolls, and that’s why I’m late for court. I’m Quaid, by the way.”