Page 16 of Property of Bull
Interesting phrase, I type back.I understand you have a harem of ‘kats’.
His laughing emoji makes me cringe at how childish I came across.
I’m no angel, but I have neither the energy nor the money to deal with a harem.
At first, I smirk feeling like I won that round. He answered for himself but not the infamous motorcycle club he runs. Granddad gave me a full rundown on the way home just in case I was under any illusion about the surprisingly charming man who sat with us all night.
I had a thought on the way home.
Did you?I take the bait.
You really know your music and your voice is sexy as hell. I know the guy who runs the radio station and he’s been looking for a new DJ.
I gasp, jumping out of bed and start pacing around my room. Does he know? No, he couldn’t.
Then my next thought freezes me in my tracks. I need to prepare in case someone does find out.
Dad sent me up here, using the excuse of Grandfather being alone, but what happens when David’s family tracks me down?
Hard pass.I answer Bull solely to stop him from running with the idea.
Just trying to save some mailboxes,he responds.
Funny.
Keeping an eye on the weather. If it’s clear, I’ll be by to pick you up tonight.
Stubborn-assed man, I think to myself before putting my phone down. Looking at the time, I know I’m too keyed-up to sleep anymore, so I go downstairs where I find Granddad watchingTop Gun: Maverick.
“Again?” I ask, indicating the movie he watches almost constantly.
He merely shrugs as I snuggle into the recliner next to his. Maybe he’s onto something. While I didn’t think I’d be able to fall asleep again, it’s not long before my eyes close.
*
Checking the weather when I wake up later that morning, it looks like there will be a break in the snowfall for a while so I make a list of places that I can potentially get a job where they won’t be too picky about paying me under the table.
I’ve waitressed before and hated it. I’m better at bartending as long as they don’t mind me having a drink or two during my shift. Other than that, I might have to look into construction work. I’m strong and Dad made sure I knew the basics; he was a contractor most of his life so I’ve spent a lot of time around work sites.
There’s probably some part of Dad that wishes I maybe wasn’t so good with a hammer, but that’s neither here nor there right now.
“Looks like we’re getting an Indian summer for the rest of the week,” my Granddad says as I head upstairs to get dressed.
“Which will give me time to look for another part-time gig.”
I narrow my eyes at him when he chuckles.
“I seem to recall Stryker mentioning he needed help at the funeral parlor,” he says, and I turn, grabbing the counter as I feel the blood drain from my face.
It’s suddenly impossible to get a word out, so I just shake my head.
“Margo, are you alright?”
“I must have missed that,” I respond after taking a sip of water. If I never return to Wells’ Mortuary again, it’ll be too soon.
“Maybe you were in the bathroom? But he needs office and billing help,” Granddad tells me, seemingly unable to read the room right now. “I’m off to PT. Leave a note if you’re going out tonight.”
Between his house and town, there’s a bar, that while a bit on the sketchy side, always seems to be busy, so that’s my first stop.
