Page 5 of Dragged Home for Christmas

Mike didn’t miss the sadness that tinged his voice.

“So he lived in Provincetown? Sorry for asking, but he would never give me his address.”

“I know. I also know it was your father’s stipulation that you be given no such information. And to answer your question, your uncle moved to Provincetown in 2012.” There was a pause. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

Mike sighed. “I have so many questions, but I guess they can keep. I look forward to hearing from you in due course. Thank you again, Mr. Hopkins.”

“You’re welcome.” He hung up.

Ashley stared at him. “Well?”

“I still don’t know what he left me, and it looks as if I won’t know for a while.”

She gaped. “How can you sit there so calmly? He could have left you a fortune.”

“I doubt it. And I’m calm because right now, there’s nothing to get excited about. All I can do is to sit back and wait for the process to reach its end.”

He couldn’t deny he had hopes, however.Please, don’t let it be years before this is all finished.

A little nest egg would come in handy.

Especially with that wolf prowling around outside, waiting to pounce.

Except if it came to a choice between his uncle or some inheritance, Mike knew which one he’d choose.

All that time I lost out on that I could have spent with him. And now it’s too late.

Chapter 3

Friday, October 25, 2024

“Mike?” Ashley hammered on the bathroom door. “You’ve got a call. Mr. Hopkins.”

It took him a moment to place the name. “Can you take a message? I’ve just got out of the shower.”

“Sure.”

He grabbed a towel and rubbed himself briskly.

Has it really been ten months since he wrote?

Mike hadn’t given the matter much thought. He’d been too busy trying to keep his head above water.

Let’s face it. I’m not cut out to run my own business.Everything he’d turned his hand to had flopped. His design company, of which he’d had such high hopes, had floundered with the rampant growth of AI. Then he’d had the idea of starting up a business to provide phone-based staff for insurance companies. He’d had over a thousand people on his books, and it had been going reasonably well—until most of the companies he dealt with started training AI bots, and proved to be scarily good at it.

Whoever invented AI should have their ass kicked.

The past six months, he’d had a job with the post office, and while it kept a roof over his head, it wasn’t what he wanted, and he didn’t want to get stuck there.

He came out of the bathroom and dressed quickly, his mind racing.

Please, let this be something useful.

Ashley handed him his phone. “He said to call him when you were free.”

Mike redialed the last number, struggling to remain calm.

“Mr. O’Neill? Thank you for getting back to me so promptly.” In the background, Mike caught the sound of loud music.

---