Page 4 of The Midnight Order
Letting my head bang back onto the headrest, I take a steadying breath before getting out and heading inside to take in the depth of this idiotic project.
Without a second thought, I reach back in for my coffee and snatch it up, grumbling about pumpkin-flavored, sugary drinks.
The key is where the lawyer said it would be, in a frog on the porch in plain sight.
Ignorant.
However, looking around at the sprawling property tells me I could probably leave the key on the porch, and no one would bat an eyelash.
Once inside, I cover my nose at the musty smell as I move through.
It’s not bad…
Sure, there’s updating that needs to be done, but the style is country-chic, and the wood floors look original and pristinely cared for.
There are two stories, and I check each room before I allow myself to calm down.
This is a project I can handle, and now that I know that, I can let go of some worries I’ve had since planning this trip six weeks ago.
In under an hour, I had the windows open, my things brought in from the Tahoe, and some candles lit, which I had brought from home.
I knew the place had been closed, so I knew I’d need them.
Once I’ve dusted all I can stand, I change into something more town-appropriate before returning to the Tahoe and setting off for dinner.
Once I’m in town, my phone dings with a million notifications, and I don’t have the space for any of them. I shut it off and toss it into my purse. I find a small diner called The Lampshade and head inside for a bite to eat.
Again, I’m greeted by a proprietor who’s too kind and eager to help, but this time, I ignore the strange feeling in my gut and return his kindness as I order the ravioli and a glass of red wine and sit at a table by the window.
If I’m going to live here for a while, I need to get along with my neighbors.
Even if a foreboding feeling in my stomach tells me not to.
Chapter 2
Silver
My mug warmsmy fingers as I step out onto the porch. My breath fans out before me through the brisk morning air, and the only sound surrounding me is the breeze through the fall trees that are smattered with an array of orange and brown.
The morning has been calm so far. I took my time getting up, something I’d never do back at home, and I’m now on my second cup of coffee, something I’d never have time for back at home.
There’s a worn and weathered porch swing to my left, and since I’ve had such a good morning and I’m feeling adventurous in this new life of mine, I turn and pad over to it.
Suddenly, my day changes as my foot goes out from under me and busts through the porch.
I try to yank it out of the new hole I’ve created, but can’t get it loose.
I can’t help it; I laugh.
My laugh carries farther than it would’ve in the city, bouncing off trees and alerting the wildlife living beyond that the dumb city girl with big dreams of curing her burnout has arrived.
“Get out of there!” I growl, yanking my foot upward one more time, this time with all the force I can muster.
It finally pops loose, and my coffee jostles in my cup and splashes all over the porch.
Scoffing, I look at the alluring porch swing, now seeing it more like a trap rather than somewhere I could relax.
Deciding not to tempt fate or Murphy’s Law any further, I head back inside, covered in coffee and with a few more scratches than I went outside with.
