Page 88 of Delicious Surrender
That remark caused a lump to form in her throat. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.” She kept peppering him with questions about the trip and where they were going next. When he yawned, she jumped at the chance to get off the call. “Well, Pops, it’s super late here, and I’ve just come from work. Send me a postcard when you get to Newfoundland, and be careful.”
He winked. “I will, sweetheart. Look after yourself. I love you.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
Tears came without warning. What the hell was wrong with her? In the last ten years, she had cried maybe four times, and now she couldn’t keep them at bay. This was becoming annoying. Sure, she missed her father…or rather, she missed the man he was before her mother left. The in-between years were not worth remembering. At least he’d found happiness and someone to share his life with.
The next morning, Alistair’s phone call woke her out of a deep sleep. She swore and rolled over to grab her phone.
“Brynne, I’m sorry to wake you.” He cleared his throat. “MacCallum was not pleased that you declined his offer, and he is threatening to contest the will.”
“What?!” Brynne bolted upright.
“There are only a few ways to do that here in Scotland. He could sue under the grounds of facility and circumvention.”
“God help me, Alistair. What the hell does that mean?”
“It means he might petition to have the will overturned if he can show Josie was vulnerable as a result of her illness—insinuating you coerced her to leave you the house.”
She sank back into the pillows in utter shock.
“Brynne, are you there?”
“I’m here. I just can’t believe this. That claim is ridiculous. I never asked Josie for anything.”
“I know that, dear.”
“So, what does this mean? I don’t have money to fight this. Who has the burden of proof?”
“They would have to prove the undue influence, but you have to pay your own legal fees.”
Brynne felt sick, then fury took over. “What a bastard. And he was supposed to be her friend?”
“I believe this is a tactic to get you to sell. This chap is used to getting his own way. Since you didn’t take the money, this is a way to frighten you to reconsider.”
“Pfft. He doesn’t know me very well. Back me into a corner, I’ll come out fighting. In fact, I’d like to burn his monstrous house to the ground.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Brynne, please don’t say things like that.”
“I’m only joking. But a girl can dream, can’t she?”
“Not dreams of arson, no.”
“I think we should set up a meeting, Alistair. Tell him I would like to negotiate.”
“Oh, dear. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Yes. I will not cower and wait for him to make the first move. Doesn’t he know hell hath no fury like a womanthreatened, scorned, and ruined?!”
“Okay, Brynne. Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can arrange.”
Brynne called Jared, desperate to vent.Fucking voicemail. Story of my life! When I need a man, they’re never there for me.
“J, it’s your pathetic friend whose life is unraveling. I am wondering if someone made a voodoo doll of me, and they’re sticking pins in it. Call me when you get the chance.”
Fresh air was what she needed, and some exercise. Her jeans were tight, and her bra felt like bondage—and not in a good way. As she stomped down the worn path to the water, she imagined all kinds of ways to annoy the dickhead at the top of the hill. If only she had a dog, she could put shit at his back door. Better yet, a giant horse turd.
When she arrived at the rocky shoreline, her mood was much improved. The wind off the water reminded her of a cold granny smith apple: fresh, tart, and crisp. The sounds of water lapping against the beach always calmed her down. She sat on a boulder to contemplate the world and her place in it.