Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
ELLA
A dmittedly, my mind was on anything but work. I wrote best at night (much to the dismay of my bunkmate, Layla) and had planned to get started on my next piece, the one about Magnum, after Rhett left, but his visit had turned into more than a chat over wine … so much more.
Ava and Layla were arguing about who sang the best at karaoke night. Layla was our second-best singer, but she was nothing compared to Isla. Isla could render a noisy bar silent with her voice.
Layla stopped in front of the coffee table and pointed first at one glass and then the other. “You had company.” I sensed she’d had a little wine herself. Drinking always made her cheeks red.
I looked at the glasses and pretended to be surprised that there were two glasses. I hadn’t had time to absorb this evening yet. I could still feel Rhett’s kisses. I could still smell his soap on my sweater. “Huh, guess you’re right,” I teased.
Layla flopped down on the couch, nearly causing my laptop to hop off my lap. It was a three-glasses-of-wine kind of flop. “Wineglasses, candles.” She turned to the side and rested her elbow on the back of the couch and her wine-heavy head on her hand. “Spill, El.”
“Spill? You mean the wine?”
Layla rolled her head lazily without lifting it from her hand. “Ava, you ask. She’s being mean to me, and I’m a little too drunk to know how to handle it.”
Ava had pulled a box of crackers from the cupboard. She sat in the big chair, stretched out her long legs and crossed her boots at the ankles before plowing her fist into the box. “Was it the strange man from Grimstone Manor?”
I looked at her with a slight head tilt. “He’s not strange.”
Ava put up her hand in surrender. “Just using your word. So, he’s not strange, but he’s a good kisser?” She motioned around her own mouth. “Your lipstick took a little side trip away from your lips.”
I quickly used my hand to wipe around my mouth. Layla was enjoying watching me squirm. “Wine and candles and kissing,” she teased. “Sounds like you had a way better night than us. Trent Boyton and two buddies came into the bar, and they wouldn’t leave us alone.” Trent Boyton was one of the many boys we grew up with who had a crush on Ava.
“Yeah, he’s still a toad,” Ava said and then pushed a cracker into her mouth.
Layla returned her focus to me. “Is this serious?”
I laughed. “Uh, this is me, your sister, Ella. When do I ever get serious?” Even as I said it, I wondered if this time was different. But I was sure it was just the newness of the whole thing that had me feeling optimistic.
“He’ll be toast in two weeks,” Ava predicted. “Ella has a four-date maximum, remember?”
“Not true.” I lifted my eyes in thought. “There was that guy, Alex or Allan or something with an A. We had five dates.”
“And they were so memorable you can’t even remember his name,” Ava pointed out.
“I can’t help it. It’s my short attention span. You know me, I get bored easily. I’m sure this will be the case again. Besides, he comes with no small amount of baggage.”
“Must be,” Layla said. “Why else would someone buy a cursed old house that looks as if it will fall in on itself in a bad wind?”
“The house isn’t that bad, actually.” I held my hand out for a cracker. Ava tossed one over. “I’ve spent a lot of time in it, and I think it will be spectacular once it’s renovated.”
“Pretty wallpaper and paint won’t take away a curse,” Layla said confidently. “You’ll need to hire someone, a curse expert, maybe burn some sage and say a few chants.”
Ava and I both stared at her.
Layla finally lifted her head. “What? That’s what I’ve read online.”
“Oh, well, then it must be true.” Ava yawned. “I’m going to bed.”
Layla hopped up and rushed past her. “I’m first in the bathroom. I had too much wine tonight.”
“D’ya think?” Ava asked her as she skittered past. Ava looked back at me over her shoulder. “Nighty-night and sweet dreams.” She winked.
The house would be quiet soon, and the storm had stopped. No more excuses. I opened my laptop to write. I’d sent my first article to the editor, and she’d written just a quick note that she liked what she saw, so it seemed right to get a head start on the next one. No reason not to be the teacher’s—or editor’s—pet.
Margaret’s story focused both on her achievements as a woman back in Victorian times and her heartbreak, the building of her dream house and the unfortunate series of events that led to her demise. Her cousin, Magnum, was a whole other character.
While Margaret Grimstone left behind a legacy that anyone would be proud of, her cousin, the sole heir to the family fortune … not so much. Magnum Grimstone had been given a magnificent, commanding name at birth, but magnificence certainly didn’t follow him through life, unless you can count an extraordinary ability to lose at the gaming table “magnificent.”
Magnum was the first and only son born to Margaret’s uncle, Oscar Grimstone, and from birth, Magnum wore the title of “future heir to the Grimstone fortune.” The fortune, a plethora of real estate holdings, railroad stocks and liquid assets big enough to make even rich people green with envy, came easy and early to Magnum. Margaret died young, and an even younger Magnum, a young man suspended for “college shenanigans,” as stated in the local paper, suddenly found himself with more money than most people made in a lifetime—ten lifetimes.
By all accounts, it seemed Margaret had only met her young cousin on several occasions, including her uncle’s funeral and the baptism of her youngest niece, Frida. While the family fortune’s fate was sealed long before it came to Margaret’s hands, it is certain that she never would have handed over the ownership of her beloved Grimstone if she’d known Magnum’s dark secret. The man had a gambling addiction. Let’s just say when the other players saw Magnum Grimstone walk through the door with his black suit and eager grin, they knew they were going to have a great night.
M y phone beeped. I searched around for it under the pile of blankets on the couch. It was a text from Rhett.
“Had a great time tonight. Book sorting tomorrow?”
“I’d like that.” I was the only person in the room, but I could feel my cheeks warm as I sent my text. A yawn slipped in next. I shut the laptop. The sordid tales of Magnum Grimstone would have to wait. I needed my beauty rest. I had a big day of book sorting ahead.