Page 23 of The Mountain Man's Mail-Order Mafia Princess

I gave her a look that asked for five minutes without commentary.

Mabel raised both hands.

Talia stepped inside.

Her phone vibrated once.

Then it kept vibrating.

Four steady bars showed at the top of the screen.

She stopped near the counter, staring at the missed calls and messages filling it.

I moved toward the grocery aisle and gave her the privacy I’d promised.

For the first time since that SUV left my road, Talia could call anyone she wanted.

I kept walking because the choice had to be hers.

That didn’t mean I wanted to hear her make it.

Chapter Three

TALIA

Jonah kept walking toward the grocery aisle.

He didn’t glance back, hover nearby, or pretend to examine the same can of beans for ten minutes while listening to my call.

My phone vibrated again.

Four steady bars. Eleven missed calls. Six text messages. Three voicemails.

Cell service had returned with the enthusiasm of a relative arriving late to a family argument.

The newest message came from the family office.

FAMILY OFFICE:Call as soon as you have service.

I had service.

I also had no desire to reward anyone for tracking my location across Colorado.

One call would bring a driver eventually. A second would probably restore access to an airport lounge. By tonight, I could be wearing clean silk and explaining to Daddy that his attempt to teach me gratitude had lasted less than twenty-four hours.

He would enjoy that far too much.

I locked the screen and switched the phone to silent.

This wasn’t surrender. It wasn’t even a commitment to stay for the full week.

I was simply declining to let my father win before I’d purchased underwear.

Behind the counter, Mabel lowered her reading glasses and looked from my phone to my stilettos.

She had blue hair piled high on her head, work overalls, and the expression of a woman who’d spent a lifetime refusing to waste time on foolishness.

“Are you planning to stand there until those shoes finish killing you?” she asked.