Chapter 4 Meteor muffins #2
“Client names, not numbers, Declan. And please get the tea started,” I yelled back as I took the stairs two at a time.
“Shall I put out the cookies?” he called.
Mrs. Babcock had brought me muffins every visit, and while the woman was smart, stylish, and wealthy, she couldn’t bake for shit. On the word cookies, Nana abandoned me and hurtled back downstairs to the office.
“No, she’s bringing muffins again.”
“I’ll hide the trash can under the table by your chair,” Declan promised.
I gave the door an unceremonious boot and was working on my pants when an unwelcome idea hit me.
I paused, hand on my zipper, in the middle of the living room.
It needed new carpet and a fresh coat of paint.
And I’d have to get all the files out of the bedroom and living room.
But overall, the place was in decent shape.
I’d never done the landlord thing before, but for the right tenant…
Except Zoey would be the absolute wrong tenant.
It would be a huge mistake, a terrible idea.
“Thirteen minutes,” Declan announced from downstairs.
“Fuck.”
Eleven minutes later, I returned to the first floor, still tying my tie. “I know, I know. Two minutes,” I said when Declan opened his mouth behind his desk.
I’d given my mom and Laura carte blanche on the interior design when I bought the building.
Rather than dark and dignified like the standard law office, they’d gone with light and airy with light wood floors, white walls, and green accents.
I’d managed to keep the plants they’d insisted on alive and even added a few pieces of farmland-themed art that they didn’t hate.
The overall effect was bright and calm. It suited me and my practice.
“Actually, it’s one minute and forty-nine seconds,” Declan said, gesturing to a digital timer, one of only two personal effects he’d brought with him. The other one was a plain white coffee mug.
“Appreciate the accuracy. Did you print out the copies?” Mrs. Babcock had changed her will three times in the last four months, and I couldn’t wait to hear what the latest addendum was.
He nodded solemnly. “I arranged them in a fan next to the tea in the conference room.”
From behind his desk, I heard the thump of Nana’s tail. The guy might have been stoic as a statue, but he did let my dog sleep at his feet.
“Great. Thanks.”
I was just poking my head into the conference room when the front door jingled open and Mrs. Babcock called out her customary, “Yoo-hoo.”
She was a statuesque woman with dark, unlined skin that she credited to practicing what she preached in her successful dermatology practice, which she’d sold for a small fortune on her retirement.
She favored colorful caftans and pricey-looking purses.
Her single, straight granddaughter was tall as well but with a more bohemian vibe.
Her long braids were secured in a high ponytail, and she wore an oversize floral cardigan on top of a pair of paint-splattered overalls.
She was holding a cellophane tray of meteor-like muffins.
“You’re early,” Declan announced, looking mildly perturbed. My paralegal didn’t handle it well when there were deviations from his carefully crafted schedule.
Nana trotted out from behind the desk and politely offered her paw to the visitors.
“There’s my cutie patootie,” Mrs. Babcock crooned, leaning down to ruffle Nana’s fur. My dog dissolved in a puddle of ecstasy before wriggling over to the granddaughter.
“It’s always good to see you, Mrs. Babcock. Declan has some tea in the conference room,” I said. The tea helped the hockey pucks masquerading as muffins go down.
“Wonderful! Declan, you’re a treasure. Now, Gage. This is my gorgeous granddaughter Gabby. Gabby, this is my handsome attorney Gage.”
“Gram,” Gabby said in exasperation.
“Pleasure to meet you,” I said, offering my hand.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Gabby said.
“I only told her what a perfect gentleman you are and what a travesty it is that you’re still single. Now, who’s ready to talk about how much money I can leave to the most darling cat rescue I discovered?” Mrs. Babcock sang on her way into the conference room.
Gabby handed over the muffins. “The trick with these is to crumble them up on your plate so it looks like you ate more. And just so you know, I have a boyfriend. He’s wonderful. I just haven’t introduced her to him because of the whole overbearing and intimidating deal.”
“Good for you and disappointing for me.”
“Mmm. Gram always did have good taste,” she teased. “Now let’s go choke down some muffins and rescue some one-eyed cats.”
Laura: Just got back from the gym. The rumor mill was working overtime today. According to the woman doing deadlifts next to me, Gage backed over a tourist from the city, but it’s okay because it was a setup by Dominion to raise our crime statistics.
Hazel: Gage hit Zoey with his truck, but only after she ran into the road to escape an eagle and a snake. She’s fine. No Dominion involvement, unless they’ve secretly been training our bald eagle.
Cam: Why were you at the gym?
Laura: To work out, dumbass.
Gage: Zoey’s fault. My flawless driving record is still intact. Why were you at the gym without us, Larry? We work out together.
Laura: Codependent much?
Levi: According to the guy I just asked at the front desk, she’s working with a trainer.
Laura: Does everyone in this town have a gigantic mouth?
Cam: What’s a trainer know that we don’t?
Hazel: A lot probably.
Gage: What are his credentials? Where did he get his degree?
Laura: This is why no one likes any of you.
Levi: My source says Wes started training with him a few weeks ago for basketball. Family discount?
Hazel: Is he attractive? Asking for research purposes.
Cam: I thought I was your research?
Laura: I’m going to single-handedly raise Story Lake’s crime stats by murdering most of you.