He let out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, no. I’m not up for another round either. But maybe… Wednesday? After we go see your grandma? You could come back here or I could go to your place.”
I thought of the chaos I lived in, what with the twins and Wilder coming and going at all hours, and my cut-price beer and my paper-thin sheets, and the way both Chase and Cash hated strangers in their space. “Nah, I’ll come here.”
I tried to sound casual, like I wasn’t already excited about the prospect of getting my guts rearranged twice in one week, but I wasn’t sure I pulled it off. But really, who cared if my enthusiasm showed? Miller was the one who was eager to set a time and a date for a repeat performance, so obviously he was as into me as I was into him.
And you know what? That felt pretty damn good.
CHAPTER 6
MILLER
The Sunny Fields Assisted Living Community in Brodnax was a depressing reminder of why I never wanted to go into probate law. It was pleasant and well-kept and clearly miles better than some of the old people’s homes I’d heard about, but something about the carpeted hallways, the poster board with the weekly group activities in reception, and the faint smell of Bengay and green apple disinfectant made me want to hightail it out of there. Danny must have caught my expression because he winked and said, “Not your speed, counselor?”
“No, not really.” Although honestly, there was nothing not to like. I just hated to be reminded that one day in the distant future it might be me shuffling along these hallways. What was it they called that? The arrogance of youth?
Danny seemed as cheerful as always as we walked through the place, smiling and saying hello to the people we passed. Even to the old guy who ran over his foot in a wheelchair. “Mr. Wilson, how are things going?”
“In my day, we used to take our hats off inside,” the old man grumbled.
Danny just laughed and tugged his cap off. “Thanks for the reminder. I’d forgotten I was wearing it.”
He tugged his foot back before Mr. Wilson could reverse.
“The problem with young people today is they got no respect!” Mr. Wilson exclaimed.
Before Danny could reply, a door opened farther down the hallway, and a woman called, “Barney Wilson, are you harassing my grandson just because I whipped your ass at poker last night?”
“I’m out twenty bucks and you’re a shark,” Mr. Wilson called back and rolled down the hallway muttering to himself.
Danny’s face lit up as the woman stepped into the hallway, and she took several rapid strides and pulled him into a bear hug. She didn’t look how I’d expected a resident of this place to look. I’d seen greeters at Walmart who were older and more frail than this woman. She must have been in her early seventies, but she could have passed for a decade younger. She was short, plump, and had red hair so vibrant it could only have come out of a bottle of dye. She was wearing jeans and a faded Jefferson Starship T-shirt and had tattoos peeking out of the sleeves of her shirt. I saw echoes of Danny when she smiled, and I liked her immediately.
She let go of Danny and turned to me, raising one eyebrow and looking me up and down, not hiding her interest. “Who’s your friend, Danny?”
“Remember I said we were having problems with Harlan and I was bringing a lawyer to talk about it?” Danny said.
“Of course I remember. I meant what’s hisname,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“This is Miller,” Danny said.
I extended a hand. “Miller Clarke. Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“Well, aren’t you a tall drink of water?” she asked, and apparently the glint in Danny’s eye was hereditary. “I’m Mary Hall, but you can call me Jane. Everyone does.”
“Uh, Mary Jane?” I asked.
She laughed and pointed at her shirt. “No, honey, it’s from a song.” Then she winked. “Although Mary Jane works too.”
“Jesus, Grandma,” Danny said, but he was smiling. He caught my gaze. “It’s a Jefferson Starship song, and it’s her favorite.”
“Your grandfather used to play it on his 8-track,” she added. “We’d drive all around town with it just blasting out of the speakers.”
Definitely not the elderly grandmother I’d been expecting.
She looked me up and down again and said, “So, how does a woman like me get a handsome young thing like you into her rooms?”
“Grandma,” Danny said, but he was openly laughing now.
“To talk business is all I meant,” she said, and there it was again, that gleam in her eye that matched the one in her grandson’s the other night when he’d told me I could do whatever the fuck I wanted with him… and now wasnotthe time to be thinking about that. I shifted from foot to foot and reminded myself sternly that I was working.
