Twist of Fate by Louise, Tia (free ebook reader for ipad .txt) 📗

“What’s this about?” He grouses. “Can’t you just tell me?”

“It’s about my future. I need some advice from a person who’s been there.” A loud exhale fills my ear, and I drop my head back, rolling my eyes. This guy. “Look, I’m not going to keep you all night. You can go home to the misses before ten. I just need to talk.

“I’ll meet you there at seven. And I’m leaving at seven-thirty.”

“Deal. See you tomorrow.”

Disconnecting, I look up the walk. I should have asked Emberly more questions, but she strapped her boxes to the back of a bicycle as I chatted with my brother and took off riding up the hill. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I decide to poke around a bit before heading back to Gran’s.

Past the bakery is an old-school hardware store with a few customers milling around, looking at nuts and bolts and belts for lawnmowers. I keep going to the first shop in the lineup, a specialty grocery store with a sign inside reading Authentic New Orleans Poboys.

A bell rings as I push through the door, and the tall black guy behind the counter gives me a nod. “Welcome to Pepper’s.”

“Pepper’s?” I look around the place for any more information.

“It used to be the Pack n Save until Mrs. Betty renamed it.” The guy watches me curiously.

“Sorry.” I stick out a hand. “Scout Dunne. I’m from Fireside. Any chance she’s related to Owen Pepper? I spent a lot of time hauling crap out of his junkyard for a friend of mine in high school.”

“André Fontenot.” The guy’s lips spread into a wide, white smile. “Betty is Owen’s sister.”

“Small world.” We fall silent, and I scan the menu items ranging from pastrami on rye to turkey, apple, Brie, and bacon to New Orleans muffulettas and Cajun shrimp and oysters. “Damn, looks like some good stuff here.”

“Authentic New Orleans cuisine made fresh every day.” André adjusts his cap.

“You from there?”

“Born and raised.”

“Which is your favorite?”

“You can never go wrong with a muffuletta.”

“Sold.” I grin looking around the small store as he gets started.

Low aisles are stocked with the usual grocery items, crackers, bread, soft drinks, and light produce. On the other side of the store are matching candles, lotions, soaps, and other specialty items wrapped in white paper and tied with black strings.

“What brings you to the Village?” He quickly cuts open a long piece of French bread and spreads the olive salad across it.

“I’m a friend of Daisy Sales.”

“Ah… Daisy’s a great girl, and that Melody.” Shaking his head, he exhales a chuckle. “She went from being a bossy toddler to a regular football-playing force.”

“Melody’s her daughter, right?” André glances up and nods. “You said she plays football?”

“Well, she’s only three, but Chad has her running up and down. She can throw a pretty decent spiral. Not too far, but straight.”

My lips twitch in an attempt at a smile, but it’s needles in my stomach. “Chad is…”

“Sheriff here in Oceanside. He’s a good guy. Takes his job seriously, wants to be a presence in the neighborhood.”

Daisy married a sheriff? Hot coals blister behind my lungs. Law enforcement’s a dangerous line of work for a man with a family. Still, if he’s as good with kids as André describes, what right do I have to be jealous?

I am, though.

I am so jealous.

“He sounds like a good guy.”

“And here’s your good sandwich.” André rolls it in paper and passes it across the counter. I pass him a ten. “Want me to tell Daisy you stopped by?”

“Nah.” I take my change and head for the door. “Know when she’ll be back?”

“It’s pretty slow this time of year, but she’s open Monday to Friday.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back.”

I’ll be back if only to see her happy with my own eyes. Who am I kidding? I want to see who the fuck this Chad guy is and make sure he’s not a total asshole. I want to know he makes her smile.

I need to know she’s not mine.

Twenty

Daisy

“A million dollars?” Sly’s blue eyes are wide, and she laughs, bouncing on the queen-sized bed in our old room at Aunt Regina’s BnB. “That’s amazing!”

“One point five. Can you believe it?” I’m across from her in the yellow chair that always reminds me of Scout, even if it hurts. “I mean, it’s not enough to live on the rest of my life, but still.”

“It makes you pretty damn comfortable!” She does another cheer then rubs her face. “My cheeks hurt from smiling so much.”

My chest hurts when I think about my dad and the way I misjudged him. “I wish I hadn’t complained so much when Dad was alive. I was as bad as mom saying all he cared about was his work. The whole time he was planning this… this legacy. I feel so ungrateful now.”

“You’re not ungrateful to want your father’s attention. He should have found a better work-life balance. You don’t have to neglect your family to make money.”

My cousin is so protective. I give her a weak smile. “I don’t think he knew what work-life balance meant. He did the best he could, but he was born in another time.”

“At least he knew how to make money.” She tosses a royal-blue velvet pillow at me, and I catch it easily, turning it in my hands.

The room falls quiet, and I swallow the tightness in my throat. “It’s time, Sly.”

Her brow furrows. “Time for what?”

“It’s time to tell Scout.” Breathing through the tension in my chest, I focus on my fingers smoothing the pillow. “Having this money changes everything. I don’t need anything from him. I’m doing fine taking care of Melody by myself. I’m going to fly to L.A. and tell him about her.”

“Finally!” She falls back on the bed. “I can’t believe you listened to Evil Becky in the first place.”

“It wasn’t that—or not just that.” I trace my nails along the velvet. “Becky is a horrible, bitter person, but she