by Nova Nelson
The silver lining was the clarity on where I stood with Tanner. I wasn’t thrilled about it, but at least I was seeing it for what it was now.
Kayleigh was his regular crush, and I was his work crush.
And without realizing what he was doing, Tanner drove the last nail in the coffin as Ruby, Grim, Clifford, and I made for the door. “Hey, you up for meeting after our shift tomorrow to talk business?”
“Yep,” I said, swallowing down the bile rising in my throat. “Looking forward to it.”
Epilogue
“I think it’s off to a good start,” I said, looking over the division of labor and contract outline Tanner and I had spent the last hour piecing together.
He scanned it one more time as he sipped his coffee in the manager’s office of Medium Rare. It’d been a week since Heather’s death, and three days since Frankie was hauled to jail, and according to an owl from Sheriff Bloom, they had all the evidence they needed to send the nix to Ironhelm Penitentiary for a long time.
The emotions of it still felt like a wet blanket thrown over my shoulders, and I suspected it showed and that was why Tanner had called Jane and Greta to come in early today, even if he said it was because he and I had to meet. We could’ve met after our full shift. But hey, I was exhausted, and my mind still reeled at random intervals with images of being trapped in that spa as the water rose up my legs. I wasn’t going to put up a fight; I’d take the shorter shift.
“I guess we’re good to send it along to Quinn Shaw, then?” he asked.
“Sure. Any word on when the Parchment Catacombs will release Bruce’s actual will to confirm you’re the sole beneficiary?”
He shook his head. “Probably another twenty-four years. But this will do in the meantime.” He set down his pen and leaned back, stretching his arms as the front two legs of his chair left the ground. Then he rubbed a palm down his face and said, “Well, now that that’s done, I think it’s about time you tell me just a little bit more about your job experience. Looking at this list, I’d say you were hot stuff.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, avoiding his eyes.
He leaned forward and placed a hand on my knee. “Nora, come on. I’m sure you’ve heard all about my life. Eastwind’s gossip circles love a sob story. It’s only fair if you share a little of yours.”
I actually hadn’t heard much about Tanner’s early life. Not specifics anyway. I knew he was an orphan, like me, but that was about the extent of it. I stayed away from the gossip as much as I could.
Then it clicked. Tanner might understand.
That was a novel idea. But it was true. Plenty about our lives ran parallel to one another until mine broke off from its path (thanks to my death), and ran me straight into Tanner. He was my first point of contact. Now our lives overlapped. We owned a business together. Or at least we would once the papers were finalized.
“It was a nice restaurant,” I said. “I started it from the ground up. It was in the middle of downtown. Rent was astronomic but also insignificant compared to what I was pulling in.”
“You were wealthy?”
I looked up from my hands to meet his eyes. “Oh yeah. It took a while, but I got there. On my own.”
“What about your family? Are they still— were they still— when you left—”
“Dead,” I said. “I was an only child. My mom tried to have more, but after the third miscarriage, she gave up. Guess she couldn’t take the disappointment anymore.” I sighed. “Probably for the best anyway. They died when I was eleven.”
Sometimes when people go through the same difficulties you’ve been through, they may say they’re sorry, but what they mean is, Yeah, me too. Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? We all have our issues. Thinking about your struggles just reminds them of their own, and they don’t want to talk about it. Or they don’t have any sorrow to spare.
But when Tanner said, “I’m so sorry, Nora,” I could tell he meant it.
“Actually, that’s not true. Not completely, at least. They didn’t just die. They were killed. I was in the house when the break-in happened, but I hid.”
He stayed silent, and that was the best response I could have asked for. He just listened. I hadn’t told anyone else about this, not since I’d gone over it with the cops. Then he reached forward and grabbed my hands in his. “That sounds awful.”
“It was. But it was a long time ago. I made something of myself anyway.”
He nodded, a sad but understanding smile resting on his smooth lips. “Can I ask you something personal?”
More personal than all the garbage that had spilled from me already? Sure, why not?
I nodded.
“Were you … with someone?”
“When?”
“I just mean, um, like, a husband.”
I accidentally laughed. Of course he couldn’t have known it was such a laughable question. But it lightened my mood nonetheless. “I was so far from having a husband, it’s ridiculous. I’ve only ever dated rich jerks.”
He nodded thoughtfully, his head cocked slightly as his hazel eyes bored into me. He scooted to the edge of his seat, our knees now interlocked.
Then he said, “Would you ever consider dating a nice guy? One who cares about you? One who wants to take care of you?”
My heart hitched as I felt his hand squeeze mine tighter. “That sounds nice,” I said.
Keeping my hands in one of his, he lifted the other up toward my face, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. Then he placed a warm, rough palm on my cheek, cradling my face.
No, no, no … this couldn’t keep going in the direction it was going. We’d just written up a contract, for fang’s sake! We absolutely, positively could not start anything even remotely romantic at this point in time. It would be stupid. It would jeopardize both of our jobs. It would—
He leaned forward quickly, and I was already meeting him halfway.
Yes, yes, yes!
Our lips found each other’s, and as the old Nora shouted, Stop it! Cut it out! This is stupid! He’ll only break your heart and tear your life to shreds! the new Nora, the one I’d met the day I stumbled out of the Deadwoods and into Medium Rare, she simply said, Finally.
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Thank you!
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Thanks so much, and I hope you enjoy the next book!
-Nova Nelson
THIRD KNOCK THE CHARM
Eastwind Witches 3
When Nora Ashcroft accidentally invites an evil force into Ruby True’s home, she’s tasked with vanquishing the entity before it wreaks too much havoc in Salem.
For that, she’ll need help, though, but the best man for the job is the last man Nora wants to spend any time with. And the feeling is mutual.
CLICK HERE TO READ THIRD KNOCK THE CHARM
About the Author
Nova Nelson grew up on a steady diet of Agatha Christie novels. She loves the mind candy of cozy mysteries and has been weaving paranormal tales since she first learned handwriting. Those two loves meet in her Witches of Salem series, and it's about time, if she does say so herself.
When she's not busy writing, she enjoys
long walks with her strong-willed dogs and eating breakfast for dinner.
Say hello:
[email protected]