Tell Me You Love Me ✓

31. Serendipity

Two weeks passed and Greer grew more miserable by the minute. Interested buyer, David Charvet had called the next day after Nova, and made an offer on Greer's property in Atlanta. One she couldn't refuse without serious thought, so he'd given her time.

Since Ava's death, Greer had grown tired of making decisions. Worn out from the constant uncertainty, she caved and sold the store front. Nova was correct. Greer had not missed the shop and if she intended to be active in school parties and events, working from home was the right fit. In Atlanta or Fairhope, she'd be there for Emma, and during holidays, it'd be nice to have time off together. Maybe take a cruise during Christmas vacation or book a ski trip. Things Greer always dreamed of doing, but never took the time.

When the Collins' called, Greer wanted to give them a piece of her mind, but abided by Harold's instructions. She'd also found it difficult to keep a civil tongue when discussing them with Emma. If the child knew what her grandparents had planned, she would not be happy.

With a court date a few days away, Greer's insides jittered and jumped. Even though the mean S.O.B. assured her they had the upper hand, she wasn't so sure. Age worked in her favor, and Ava's and Evan's wishes. But that might not be enough, as her age was still considered a child.

Another problem was Jackson. She'd not seen or talked to him since the night he'd left her naked and alone, so she assumed he'd move on. Trouble was, she hadn't. The more she tried not to think about him, the more she did. Then there were the cards. She'd not responded to the client, but time had run out. Her site stated to expect results within ten to fourteen days. So today was the day.

If it turned out to be Jackson posing as a random client, then the minute he got the results, he'd call. Or not. If he realized regardless of what the tarot said, Greer was a bad choice, she'd never hear from him. Is that what she wanted? No. He was the last thing on her mind before sleep and the first thing when she woke. Every time she passed the church, she remembered the day she met him. Watching Emma play in the backyard, reminded Greer what good father material he was. Each time she baked something, she thought of the night they'd made chocolate chip cookies. She went back to the laptop, pulled up the reading, and hit send. In the deepest part of her heart, she wanted it to be Jackson's request.

She glanced at her watch. Nearly time for Mr. Mooney's visit. Today, she wouldn't wait, she'd deliver his bourbon. Taking the almost empty bottle from the cabinet, she jotted Maker's 46 on her shopping list. Didn't want the old man to run out. That daily dose might be all that kept him going.

Whiskey in hand, she made her way across the yard to his front door. Before she rang the bell, he opened it. "What's this? You bootlegging now?"

"I believe I'd have to charge you if that were true. You borrow from me. I bring a gift. Saves you a trip."

He chuckled. "I like you, Greer. If I was forty years younger, I'd give that boyfriend of yours a run for his money."

"I don't have a boyfriend, Mr. Mooney."

He cocked a brow. "Knew I hadn't seen him lately, but thought I just missed his visits."

Now she chuckled. "You don't miss anything."

"You're right. So what's going on?"

She glanced around the room. Quaint. Neat. Not what she expected. She thought the place would be a cluttered mess given the fact Mr. Mooney rarely combed his hair and never wore a shirt that looked ironed.

An overstuffed beige sectional anchored the living room. A dark red velvet chair sat to one side with floor to ceiling bookcases behind it. Greer moved to the shelves and ran her finger along the volumes. "Your wife must have loved Nella Harper. I think every book she ever wrote is here."