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The Tessa Randolph Collection, Books 1-3

Page 25

by Paula Lester


  Tessa’s back straightened. Had Cheryl said we? “Wait, do you have—"

  Cheryl interrupted. “You did well in Florida, dear. It’s time to get back to work now that we’re home. Check your app—you have an assignment in thirty minutes.”

  “But . . .”

  Cheryl waved a hand. “I have another conference call to attend. There’s a lot to do to make up for losing a district manager—and a task force member. I’m sure I don’t have time for any more small talk.” She clicked at the keyboard, clearly having dismissed her daughter.

  Tessa felt a wave of frustration. It seemed like, no matter how much she tried to get Cheryl to open up to her—to share things so they could be closer—her mother just closed off more. She longed for a better relationship. She longed for her mother to trust her. Which reminded her. “Mom, why didn’t I get one of the black cards?”

  “Ooooh.” Cheryl sighed. “Right.” She jotted something on a notepad. “I have to send in those expense reports. Yet another thing I have to get done today. Punishment for taking a day off.”

  “Mom.” Tessa glared.

  Cheryl leaned back in her seat and did a sort of twirling motion with her hand. “Theresa, I did give you a card. It’s in an envelope on your desk. You must’ve missed seeing it before you left.”

  Tessa was confident her mother was not telling the truth. Or the envelope had been misplaced. But she couldn’t argue until she’d done a thorough check.

  She remembered what Bryce Hanson had told her. He’d said Tessa couldn’t change her mother. The only thing Tessa could control was what kind of daughter she was and hope that, by doing so, it changed their relationship.

  Maybe he was right.

  On a whim, Tessa crossed the room and leaned over to wrap her mother in a tight hug. “Thanks for everything, Mom. When you have time, I’d love to pick your brain about ways to manage the power of the scythe. You know, responsibly.”

  Cheryl stiffened for half a second and then relaxed with a small puff of air. She patted Tessa’s arm and smiled. “I’d like that, dear. Why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow? I’ll make roast chicken.”

  Tessa left the office smiling. Though she almost couldn’t stand not knowing what secret Mr. Blade had bestowed upon Cheryl, it felt like she’d made some headway in their relationship. Maybe they could build on that. Get closer. Be better.

  And, of course, her mother was right. There, plainly visible on her desk, was an envelope containing the black card. Tessa could’ve sworn it hadn’t been lying there when she’d got in that morning.

  She sighed. She wouldn’t push Cheryl. Instead, she’d do her best to be open and loving from her end. Maybe that would change the way they danced together.

  In the parking lot, Tessa stopped to look up at the sky. She smiled and sent a silent thank you to Mr. Hanson. Wherever he was.

  BY THE TIME SHE GOT back to Mist River Manor, Tessa’s thoughts had shifted from Cheryl to Silas. She’d only seen him once since they got home the day before, and that was quick, as Silas had been heading to Mrs. Cross’ apartment to fix a drippy faucet. And Tessa had been heading home to spend some quality time with Pepper.

  Abi hadn’t been able to get away from the tortie fast enough. Both Abi and Pepper had been disgruntled with Tessa, and she had some making up to do.

  Abi was easy—she loved her gifts of a shirt, some fancy chocolate, and a huge bottle of moderately priced white wine. But the cat was harder. Pepper held a tougher grudge. Tessa was bound to be stuck holding the cat on her lap for many evenings to come—and probably springing for a few cans of fancy cat food—before Pepper thawed and forgave her.

  And it had been fine with Tessa that there hadn’t been an opportunity to talk much with Silas since they’d returned. She hadn’t felt ready to face him and deal with all the unanswered questions between them.

  But she knew it wasn’t possible to avoid it forever. They saw each other daily. They couldn’t go on like nothing had happened in Miami. Like they hadn’t gotten closer.

  Like Silas hadn’t kissed her.

  That kiss! Just the thought of it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

  Tessa couldn’t help worrying. Silas was smart and observant. He already knew something was off—Tessa thought he’d caught on to it from virtually her first day as a reaper. She couldn’t see how there was any way of keeping him in the dark about her job for very long if they were actually dating.

  But did that matter? Even if they decided not to be a couple, they were friends. Silas took an interest in Tessa and what went on her life, and that wasn’t likely to change, even if they didn’t dive into a romantic relationship.

  As she parked Linda outside Mist River Manor and then sat staring at the building, Tessa thought about it some more. She remembered what Gloria had said—that it would be okay for Tessa to let Silas in on her secret at some point. Would that work? Could they have a relationship after Silas knew Tessa was a reaper?

  Miami had proven that Tessa’s job could be a dangerous one. Thankfully, Silas hadn’t been put in danger down there, but what if something similar happened again? Them dating would mean he was around her more. And if he knew the secret, would that put him in danger somehow?

  She didn’t know. But as she watched Silas come out the front door of the apartment building and look around, stretching his back, Tessa did know one thing.

  She wanted to be with him.

  Tessa jumped out of the car and headed toward her handsome landlord, trying to screw up the courage to ask him out. His eyes tracked her across the lot. When she got to within a few feet, he said, “Before I lose my nerve, I have something to ask you.”

  She swallowed hard, wondering what he was going to say.

  He stepped closer, grabbing her hands in his, and looked her in the eye. “I want you to know that I have feelings for you. I want to explore that—explore having a relationship.”

  Tessa let out a breath. She felt relief that she wouldn’t have to ask him. Hot on the heels of the relief was more worry. Something in Silas’s expression wasn’t right. “I . . . I’d like that,” she said softly, hoping that would release whatever tension he had.

  But it didn’t. Instead he squeezed her hands again and nodded. “Good. That’s good. There’s just one caveat.”

  Her chest squeezed in anticipation. Somehow, she knew what he was going to say.

  He swallowed and then gave her a look that was almost pleading. His voice was soft and gentle. “If we’re going to date, you’re going to have to put up with me being busy with my job a lot. I get emergency calls sometimes when something needs to be fixed. If that happens, I might have to leave a nice dinner or duck out in the middle of a movie.”

  Tessa felt her shoulders relax. “Oh. That’s okay. I understand. I can definitely work around that.” She felt relieved that he hadn’t said anything about having the feeling that she was keeping something from him.

  “Good.” He squeezed her hands again. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. But, also, I have to know our relationship is being built on honesty. So, if we’re going to do this—if we’re going to date—I don’t want there to be anything between us, causing either of us to doubt the other one.”

  She nodded. “Neither do I.”

  “I’m glad you agree. Because if I’m going to get close to you—if you and I are going to give this a real shot,” he pulled in a deep breath and then said, in a rush of words, “you’re going to need to be honest about what you do. Tell me about your job—about the souls you reap.”

  Book 3: Reap What She Sows: Chapter 1

  “IF YOU AND I ARE GOING to give this a real shot,” Silas pulled in a deep breath and then said, in a rush of words, “you’re going to need to be honest about what you do. Tell me about your job—about the souls you reap.”

  Tessa blinked. In the week they’d spent together in Florida, Silas, her handsome landlord, had turned from friend to something else. Something more. Silas was
kind and thoughtful. He was everything her previous boyfriend, Frank, wasn’t. And she felt completely sideswiped by his words.

  Of course, it wasn’t possible for all of the air to be sucked out of the space around her, but that was how it felt for a moment. Her ears were ringing. She went cold.

  She opened her mouth and then shut it again a couple of times before clamping her lips tightly together to avoid looking like a dying fish—because that was not an attractive look.

  She had to admit that she did want to look attractive to the man in front of her. Tessa wanted him to feel how she felt. And she thought he did. Despite the fact he had just effectively outed her super-secret job as a grim reaper.

  Slowly, her brain came out of its shock, and Tessa realized she had let too much time go by without answering.

  How did he figure it out anyway?

  Tessa knew she’d been giving off clues left and right while they were in Miami. This was all her fault. She should never have suggested that Silas use the money their neighbor, sweet Mrs. Cross, had gifted him to go on a vacation in the same place as her grim reaper convention. She’d been asking for trouble.

  And there had been plenty of trouble in Florida. A reaper died on the plane and another while snorkeling. Not to mention, when out on a date with Silas, Tessa had been called to perform her duties. Silas had followed her on the job. Luckily, she hadn’t actually reaped a soul then. Still, Silas had still been suspicious of what was going on.

  And that hadn’t been the only time he had shown skepticism about Tessa’s cover story—that she was a life insurance agent. During her first week on the job, Chet Sanborn, who was a resident of their apartment building, was murdered. Unfortunately, Tessa had been late to that job and lost his soul. It’d been a mad dash to find and cross him over. Silas had been around the periphery of that crazy situation.

  Okay, Tessa. It’s been too long. Say something!

  She went over her options. She could tell him the truth. But if she did, it could be dangerous for both of them.

  Or she could lie. But lying seemed like a horrible way to start their five-second-old relationship.

  She gazed into Silas’s hazel eyes. They were too perfect and intent, waiting for her answer. She looked away from his eyes, studying his square jawline etched with stubble. It was no help either.

  “Um.” Oh, fantastic. Just brilliant. Now he’s going to think I’m unattractive and dumb.

  Good thing she was watching his jaw because then Silas broke into an adorable grin, showing the dimple in his right cheek, and he winked. “I mean, hanging out with those co-workers of yours was pretty depressing. It felt more like hanging out with a bunch of grim reapers than life insurance agents. You ever think about that?”

  “About what?”

  “It seems like it has the wrong name.” He chuckled. “But I guess death insurance doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

  Tessa barked out an over-the-top laugh, fueled by the relief that she felt. He’d been joking. She quickly reined it in with a gulp.

  “Yeah,” she squeaked. “It’s hard enough to sell already. It would probably be even harder to get people to buy it with a name like that.”

  “Your co-workers sure have a morbid sense of humor.”

  She nodded. “I’m still getting used to that myself. I guess it’s just one of those professions where dark humor can help you get through the hard parts.”

  “I can see that.” Silas continued to smile.

  A rush of nervous energy hit Tessa in the chest as he reached out and grabbed her hand. She sighed into his touch, lacing her fingers with his. It amazed her how new relationships always felt similar. This was the same sort of excitement she’d felt in middle school when she’d held hands with Trevor Adams on the bus.

  “Well, don’t you two look like peas in a pod?”

  They both turned toward the voice. Tessa couldn’t decide if she was relieved or annoyed at the interruption.

  Old Mrs. Cross hobbled toward the building. She wasn’t exactly Tessa’s favorite person—she’d told everyone who would listen that Tessa probably killed Chet Sanborn. But Tessa had been raised to be respectful of elders, and the woman had given Silas a lovely gift of money when she won some from a scratch-off ticket.

  Mrs. Cross stopped in front of them, leaned on her flower-patterned cane, and peered, first at Tessa, then at Silas, and then down to their interlocked hands. The old woman was hunched at the shoulders. She craned her neck to see their faces. Tessa wondered how much taller the woman had been in her youth, before age had weighed her down.

  “Are you two an item now?” she croaked.

  Tessa thought there was a hint of jealousy in her tone. She felt a squirm gathering in her spine and tried to fight it off, not wanting to act like a naughty schoolgirl in front of the woman. She let go of Silas’s hand and shifted her eyes away from Mrs. Cross’s stone gaze. She found her shoes instead, a pair of red Chuck Taylors.

  Next to her, Silas’s voice was smooth and light. “Well, I don’t know if item is the right word, but Tessa and I are dating.” He put an arm around her shoulders and drew her in closer to his side.

  Tessa blew out the breath she’d been holding and relaxed. Lifting her chin, she met Mrs. Cross’s gaze again, more confident this time.

  “Well, I suppose that’s just fine, then,” Mrs. Cross said with a nod. “Both of you are good-looking and about the same age. Same socioeconomic status too, I’ll wager.” She nodded again and then moved forward, forcing Tessa and Silas to leap apart or have their feet tromped on by her cane as she elbowed between them.

  For the second time in a ten-minute span, Tessa found her jaw dropped open. Mrs. Cross certainly wasn’t up on political correctness, with her talk about them being attractive and all that. She glanced at Silas, who grinned back at her and gave her a wink. Tessa had been right—there was definitely some jealousy there.

  “Silas, dear,” Mrs. Cross grabbed his elbow to steady herself, “my showerhead is dripping. You’ll need to come by and fix it this afternoon while I’m at my hair appointment. I don’t want to have to listen to your tools making a big noise in that echoey bathroom.”

  She let go of his arm, and Silas rushed forward to open the door for Mrs. Cross just as she arrived at it. “You bet, Mrs. Cross. I’ll take care of that showerhead while you’re at your appointment. It’ll be good as new when you get back.”

  The elderly woman reached up and patted his cheek. “Such a good boy,” she said as she disappeared into Mist River Manor’s lobby.

  Silas turned back toward Tessa. “She sure is a pistol, isn’t she?”

  “That’s one word for it, I guess.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah. She’s rough around the edges, that’s for sure. I just try to keep her happy. At her age, she deserves that.”

  Tessa crossed her arms and gave him a mischievous look. “I really don’t think that meeting the unreasonable demands of old ladies is part of your job description.”

  “It’s not just the old ladies I try to keep happy. I want everybody to enjoy living here.”

  “I seem to remember you giving me a hard time when I couldn’t make rent on time every month,” she teased.

  He widened his eyes to look innocent. “I don’t own this place. I’m just the landlord. When it comes to the accounting, my hands are tied. Besides, I always tried to give you a few extra days whenever I could.” He tipped his head. “But you seem to be making enough at this new job that it isn’t an issue anymore.”

  Oops. Too late, Tessa realized her mistake. The conversation had steered away from her job as a grim reaper, and here she’d brought it right back around to the same spot she’d been trying to avoid.

  “Hey, do you want to have dinner tonight?”

  Shew! He hadn’t taken the opportunity to question her more about her job. This time. Tessa knew it would come up again, though. She was going to have to practice not imitating a tongue-tied fish every time he did if she wanted this rel
ationship to work.

  “Dinner sounds great! You should come to my place.” Wait. What? Why in the world had she said that?

  “Oh, wow. I’d love a chance to try your cooking. How about I come by around six?”

  “Six is perfect!” She smiled through a wince. Aargh. It was as though her mouth was not attached to her brain at all. Why did that happen to her so often? She should really talk to a doctor about it.

  “Okay. Well, I’ll see you then.”

  With a heart-stoppingly gorgeous smile, Silas leaned in and kissed Tessa’s cheek before allowing her to step through the open door.

  Her heart started pounding again as she crossed the lobby. Why had she invited Silas to her place? That was the worst possible idea. The most obvious reason for that being she was a terrible cook. Her mind raced through the dishes she knew how to make, and she grimaced.

  She couldn’t make him ramen—they weren’t broke college students. Mac and cheese was out too because it didn’t always turn out great for Tessa. More often than not, it was either too mushy or overly crunchy.

  Okay, okay. Calm down, Tessa. You can figure this out. Google is your friend.

  She knew Silas liked empanadas. Maybe she could find an easy recipe for that.

  Tessa felt a little better. Until she opened the door to her apartment.

  She groaned and slumped into the door frame.

  The place was an absolute wreck. Like, hurricane-level messy. Every piece of clothing she owned was strewn across the floor and furniture. Dishes sat piled in the sink and spilling out onto the counter next to it. And there were clumps of cat fur dotting the living room carpet.

  Cat fur. Oh, no. She was absolutely not supposed to have a cat.

  As though the thought had conjured her, Pepper sauntered over and rubbed on Tessa’s shins. With a little shriek, Tessa bolted the rest of the way through the doorway and shut the door tightly behind her.

 

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