Page 43 of Mourner for Hire
I clear my throat to correct myself. “I mean, you know howdesperate he is for a missus. It can’t be her. I want her out of this town as soon as I can run her out of here.”
“Dunner, you have got to relax. For being as book-smart as you are, you’re acting like an idiot. You might as well just lean into whatever charade this is and treat it like one of your mom’s old scavenger hunts. She did everything for a reason,” Eli says then takes a long sip of his iced tea.
“No,” I answer quickly.
“Fine. Remain angry. Hate her for as long as you can,” he adds, watching Connor schmooze my arch-nemesis.
She seems mostly uninterested.
Good.
Then he says something that makes her crack a smile, and her eyes twinkle under the red pendant light above the booth. I know that smile, but more than that, I know exactly how this man works a woman. Before I know it, she’ll be handed a puppy and watching him nurse kittens back to health.
Absolutely not.
“Fuck this,” I mutter and start stalking toward her.
FOURTEEN
VADA
My grilledtuna burger arrives within minutes of ordering, and I waste no time digging into it, ignoring the fact that I’m just sentences away from finishing a chapter on my e-reader. I’m starving. I haven’t eaten much since the funeral—barely anything last night, nothing this morning. Apparently, being tormented by the spirit realm and preparing to be ostracized by a town I was born in and visited once act as strong appetite suppressants.
It’s messy but perfect—seared tuna, crisp red cabbage, dill pickles, and a sweet-spicy aioli I want to bathe in. It’s beyond delicious.
“Wow! You look hungry!” the man sitting in the booth next to me comments.
My jaw freezes, and then I start chewing in slow motion. I glance behind me to make sure he doesn’t have any friends waltzing in behind me.
No one.
I chew twice more and then swallow.
“Yep,” I say, then take another bite, ignoring his commentary any further.
He slides into my booth, shaking his head. His hair is dirtyblond and shaggy and does that swoopy thing I used to love when I was in middle school. It oddly still fits his face and doesn’t seem to date him but rather enhance him—sharp jaw, pebbled stubble. Light blue eyes. Very tall.
He’s a real-life Ken doll slipping into the booth across from me without permission.
“I haven’t seen you around,” he remarks, leaning on his elbows.
I clear my throat and wipe my lips with a paper napkin. “Well, that’s because I haven’t been around. I’m just here to work. and then I’ll be gone again.”
I offer a quick, placid smile that in no way deters this wax museum statue of a man from warming up in my presence.
“Ahh, I see. Contractor?”
My brow furrows as I remember how Dominic asked me the same thing when I was stuck in his bar.
“Um, no,” I answer, taking a drink of my iced tea, though maybe it is partially true now. Iamcontracted to renovate the cottage.
He nods, his mouth sliding into a slow, tantalizing smile. “So that means you really are Dominic’s arch-nemesis.”
I choke on the tea, coughing and sputtering until my cheeks flame. When my throat finally settles, “That seems a bit dramatic, if not adolescent,” I manage through coughs.
“Well, Dunner is quite dramatic.” He taps his thumb on the table.
I take another sip and slowly gather my next thoughts. I lick my lips and decide to be very polite. Lord knows this town is small enough, and chances are this man, this GI Joe action figure in a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts and a pretty smile, is Dominic’s best friend.
