Page 2 of Real Good Love
I’ve spent all this time being angry at Myrna, thinking she ratted me out, but it was some asshole trying to get a bigger place for a friend. The knowledge overwhelms me, and another tear falls.
My fist lands on the door harder than I intend, but I have to get out of this hallway before I let them see me cry. I don’t turn to see if they’re following or are wisely choosing to wait in the elevator until I’m out of sight.
Thankfully, Sofia opens the door and throws her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
I hug her back hard as she begins to shake. Pulling away, I meet her tear-filled gaze, which matches my own. “Me too. I’m so sorry.”
“It’ll be better now. You’re here, and I don’t have to do this alone.” She sniffles as another tear tracks down her cheek. “Mrs.Frances’s daughter just called and said she’s not coming.”
“What?” Rage and grief take turns slamming fist after fist into my gut. “What do you mean, she’s not coming? Her mother died. She has to come.”
Sofia shakes her head. “I don’t understand either. She was so angry. She just yelled and yelled and hung up on me.”
Myrna’s relationship with her daughter is about as good as mine with my mother. And yet I still don’t understand how she could decide she’s opting out of this responsibility. If she’s serious ... that’stragic. But maybe that’s how my mother would react if something happened to me. I can practically hear her.
“Now isn’t a good time. I’m not able to leave until this segment of the research is concluded.”
Not. Acceptable.
I wrap a hand around each of Sofia’s shoulders and squeeze. “I’ll call her. There’s got to be some kind of mistake. Maybe she just delayed her flight because she had something going on.”
I pull out my phone and find Dee Booker’s contact information. She answers on the second ring.
“Hi, this is Banner Regent. You know, I used to live across—”
“Are you calling to tell me I should’ve visited more while she was alive, and maybe she wouldn’t have screwed me over so hard in death?” She spits the angry words at me, not sounding at all like a congresswoman.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Booker. I know that this isn’t easy. My mother and I have a ... difficult relationship too, but I would—”
“Am I supposed to care that you have mommy issues? If that’s what you think this is, you are woefully mistaken.”
Her jab about mommy issues hits home, and I stiffen. Myrna would be so embarrassed, and I’m embarrassed for her.
“Yeah, I do have mommy issues. Actually, I have shitty, disconnected parent issues. But that’s not whatthisis about. Who do you think is going to handle Myrna’s estate and apartment if you don’t step up? She didn’t ask a whole lot from you while she was alive; the least you could do is give her some consideration now that she’s gone.”
I almost expect lightning to strike me down because someone could say the same thing to me if my mom died tomorrow. Grief for a parent I haven’t even lost yet rises up, and those few tears from earlier multiply.
Dee Booker is silent for a beat after I stop speaking. “You don’t even know, do you?” A bitter laugh comes over the line. “I don’t need to spare a moment of consideration for my mother because she didn’t have any for me. After all, she left every damn thing to you.”
Chapter 2
Logan
This tight deadline on the most important project I’ve ever had is all that’s keeping me from getting on a plane to New York to track Banner down and get answers from the source. I can’t stop fucking thinking about the box of pregnancy tests I found in the bathroom.
As much as I want to call or text her to demand answers, this isn’t the kind of conversation that’s happening over the phone.
Before I can get lost in wrenching on the car, Jock yells over the beat of Boone Thrasher’s latest album playing in the garage.
“Cop wants to talk to you, boss.”
I jerk my head up and look in his direction. Sure enough, Cody Reeves is standing in the doorway between the waiting room and the shop.
Fuck. I toss the wrench into the top of my toolbox and yank the rag from the back pocket of my coveralls to wipe my hands. After turning down the stereo, I head in his direction.
“What can I do for you, Cody?” I ask as he backs up into the waiting room. Having a cop show up is never a good sign in my book. “You here about Jeff? Because I haven’t seen him or talked to him.”
“No. I got a few questions about a former employee of yours.”
