Page 68 of Road Trip
“Jesus!” Maeve almost choked on the whiskey she’d just swallowed. “You’re incorrigible.”
“So I’ve been told. But let’s get back to the topic at hand.” She stabbed at her sister’s chest with her index finger. “You. I know it blows that you got fired. But maybe it’s what Mary Helen wouldcall a blessing in disguise. Now you’ve got time to get back to your novel.”
“And live off what? My good looks?”
“You can’t tell me you don’t have any money saved. I know you better than that, Maeve Dunagin.”
“You obviously don’t have a grasp of what teachers get paid in Georgia. Even university professors. My savings might last me seven months. Eight, tops. And then what?”
“Then you sell your novel and it becomes an instant, overnight bestseller. Next you sell the film rights, with your big sister attached to star.” Therese turned on the same megawatt smile that had always served her so well.
“I don’t even have a literary agent,” Maeve said. “Or a finished manuscript, for that matter.”
“Listen to me.” Therese put a hand on each of her sister’s shoulders. “We are going to prove that our painting of Lady G is authentic, and then we’re going to sell her and split the money. Likewise, we’re going to make the bank take responsibility for letting a senile old lady take out a mortgage on a house that was paid off years ago. She was victimized, Maeve. Hell, we’ve been victimized too.”
She squeezed her sister’s shoulders. “We’re so close. I can feel it. I need you to feel it too. Please, Sissy?”
“What was it Mama used to say?” Maeve said wistfully. “‘Wish in one hand and spit in the other, and see which one fills up first’?”
“That’s the PG version. I think Mary Helen used to say, ‘shit in one hand,’ but I guess the sentiment is the same,” Therese said, releasing her hold on her sister. “But we’re not just wishing. We’re doing something to make it happen. Right?”
Before she could come up with a noncommittal response, Maeve heard her phone ding to signal an incoming text. Therese wheeled around and grabbed the phone from the nightstand.
“Ooh. It’s from your Irish luv-ah.” Therese faked a swoon, clutching the phone to her chest.
“Give me that!” Maeve snatched the phone away and read the brief text.
Is it too late for a nightcap?
She tapped out a quick reply.
That sounds nice.
She waited for the dancing bubbles to stop.
Pick you up in ten.
Maeve glanced in the mirror and shuddered before hurrying into the bathroom to brush her teeth, comb her hair, and apply some lipstick.
“And where do you think you’re going, young lady?” Therese stood in the bathroom doorway, looking amused.
“Out for a drink. With Liam.”
“Not like that, you’re not,” Therese said. She grabbed her makeup bag from the vanity and pointed toward the bed. “Sit.”
CHAPTER 31
It was drizzling when she emerged from the inn. Liam was leaning against the hood of the Jeep. When he saw Maeve he walked rapidly toward her, with a wide smile and an unfurled umbrella.
“Hi,” she said, trying not to grin like a loon as he leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips.
“This is a nice surprise,” she said as he helped her into the Jeep.
“What? The text, or the kiss?”
“Both, actually.”
He started the engine, but pointed up at the window of her room, where Therese was standing, waving goodbye.
