The Will (Magdalene #1)(8)

Yesterday, he was clean-shaven.

This morning, he had not shaved and he had a dark shadow of black and silver stubble on his jaw.

This also suited him.

Greatly.

My eyes caught his and I noted three things instantly.

One was the fact that he had unusual gray eyes. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was unusual about them except for the fact that they were alarmingly attractive.

He also smelled good. I’d inhaled the scent of a variety of men’s colognes but not one was that alluring. It was, as was everything about him, aggressively masculine, assaulting my senses, making it hard for me to breathe.

And last, his body was far bigger and more imposing than it was from a distance.

And it was very hard.

“You all right?” his deep voice rumbled. I heard it and felt it, and I blinked.

It was then I remembered to be mortified and to keep my distance.

So I pulled at his hold and I felt his arm around me and his hand in mine strangely tighten for a brief moment before he let me loose at the waist. I moved away half a foot but not further as he kept hold of my hand.

“Steady?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “My apologies,” I went on to murmur, putting pressure on my hand as an indication he should let it go.

He didn’t let it go.

“Not a problem,” he muttered, his lips quirking with amusement. “Obviously, you’re Josie.”

My back went straight because no one called me Josie.

No one but Gran.

“Yes, Josephine Malone.” I put significant stress on my proper name. “Lydia’s granddaughter.”

This got me another lip quirk and a, “Know that. Heard a lot about you, Josie.”

I was not certain this was good.

“Now that you’re here, maybe we can get started. I have a full day and this delay has put me off my schedule by half an hour,” Terry Baginski butted into our exchange, her voice terse, like Mr. Spear and my taking a moment to greet each other was exhausting her patience.

Of course, he had been late, though he had also called (albeit tardily) to explain he would be. But he was the reason we were delayed.

Therefore, I wasn’t certain what came over me when that woman spoke those words.

Perhaps I was feeling embarrassment at tumbling into this man. Perhaps it was the fact that I’d laid my beloved grandmother in the ground the day before and that hadn’t exactly been fun. Perhaps it was because I didn’t sleep very well after sobbing myself into that state the night before.

Or perhaps it was because this woman had not been polite at all since my arrival at her office. An arrival for a meeting to hear my beloved grandmother’s will read. Something I didn’t want to do as it was another in a barrage of constant reminders Gran was no longer of this world, I was going to miss her, I was facing a lifetime of missing her, and Ms. Baginski should have a mind to that.

But, for whatever reason, it came over me.

Therefore, I pulled at my hand and Mr. Spear released me as I turned to Ms. Baginski and stated, “I’ve no idea how you can be behind seeing as you were delayed in meeting me in reception. Not to mention, since that time you’ve not let Mr. Spear’s late arrival deter you from continuing with your work even though a long time client’s granddaughter was waiting and she wasn’t even offered a magazine to occupy her time.”

I moved carefully to the chair, bending to grasp my trim, patent leather fuchsia handbag that I’d tucked into the side. Primly seating myself, I continued to speak.

“As this occasion is not a happy one, I won’t speak for Mr. Spear as I don’t know him.” I crossed my legs and looked to her. “But I, for one, would like to see this unfortunate business concluded. So, yes, please. If we could finally get to the matter at hand, I would be grateful.”

Her mouth got tight. It didn’t look good on her but then again, nothing really did and this had very little to do with the fact she didn’t know how to arrange her hair or do her makeup and everything to do with the fact she was a genuinely unpleasant woman.

I didn’t look at Mr. Spear.

I tucked my handbag in my lap and waited.

I felt Mr. Spear take the chair beside mine as Ms. Baginski moved behind the desk, stating, “Then we’ll delay no further.”

“As I’ve been here over half an hour, I would find that agreeable,” I replied.

She cast a baleful glare in my direction.

I returned it coolly.

I heard Mr. Spear emit a strange (though not unattractive, alarmingly) grunt that sounded partly amused and partly surprised.

I ignored him and held Terry Baginski’s glare.

She looked away first and started fiddling with some papers on her desk, saying, “Let’s proceed.”

I decided I’d made my point so I let that one go.

She upended some papers, tapping them on her desk and her gaze moved from me to Mr. Spear to the papers.

“Mrs. Malone has a legal and binding document outlining her wishes as to what is to become of her property and possessions upon her death. However, she’s written a letter that she explained she’d like read instead of that document during these proceedings,” Ms. Baginski began. “It outlines these wishes in a more succinct way.”

I said nothing.

Neither did Mr. Spear.