Ladies' Night, Andrews, Kay [best time to read books .txt] 📗

must know, the house is worth at least fifty thousand more than that.”

“It’s probably worth seventy-five thousand more than that,” he corrected her. “But my accountant says if we make too big a profit, I’m gonna get screwed over at tax time. More importantly, my wife swears she’ll nag me into the grave unless I see to it that you finish what you started with that little old cracker house.”

“I really want to meet your wife, Arthur,” Grace said.

“That can be arranged. So … what do you say?”

She chose her words carefully. “I want to say you’ve got a deal. Right now. But to be honest, my divorce settlement is still up in the air. We’ve got a new judge, though, and my lawyer thinks everything should be settled pretty soon.”

“Fair enough. You call me when it’s all settled, then, will you?”

“The minute I know something, I’ll call. And thanks, Arthur. Really. Thanks.”

Grace took another sip of her beer and stared out at the water. A school of fingerling mullet slashed just below the surface of the green water, and a couple of screeching gulls swooped in to pick off a few.

Arthur said Ben had paid him a visit. Whatever he’d told the old man, it had been enough to change his mind about selling her the house. She wondered if her own mostly idle threats to tell the police about J’Aimee’s involvement in vandalizing the house had prompted the visit to Arthur.

She turned the phone over and over in her hand. Part of her was dying of curiosity, part of her dreaded hearing Ben’s voice. There was only one way to find out what he wanted. She listened to the first voice mail he’d left—which had been Monday evening.

“Hey, uh, it’s me. Give me a call.”

Tuesday morning, he’d left another message.

“Okay, Grace, if you’re trying to be coy, it’s not working. Call me, okay? I’ve, uh, got a proposition for you.”

A proposition? Did she even want to know? Yes. She did want to know exactly what Ben was up to. Without giving it much more thought, she touched the redial.

*   *   *

“Grace?” Ben sounded … different. “Listen, I didn’t know about the accident. Your lawyer just called Dickie about getting together to finalize the settlement, and she mentioned you’d had a head injury. What a hell of a thing. Are you all right?”

“I am now. Are we finalizing a financial settlement? Is that the reason you called?”

“It’s one of the reasons. Uh, there have been some changes around here, and I thought I should let you know about them. Before it’s final and everything.”

“Oh-kayyy,” she said slowly. Where was this going? Why was he being so civil? Maybe he’d been hit on the head, too?

“First off, I’m getting ready to list the house and move,” he said briskly. “Dickie informs me that the new judge will probably make me split the proceeds with you, so he says I have to let you know, in case you have any interest in buying out my half.”

“You’re moving? Where? Why?”

“It’s time,” he said. “I’ve had a job offer from a big-time agency in New York. They’re opening a new media division, and it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. But they want me up and running right after Labor Day, which doesn’t give me a lot of time to sell the house and find a new place.”

Her mind was racing. “What about the blog? What about J’Aimee? Will she move with you?”

There was a long stretch of dead silence on the other end of the phone.

“No. J’Aimee is not part of the new package,” Ben said. “If you must know, she’s gone. As for the blog, well, that was another reason for my reaching out to you.”

“I see.”

“If you’ve been following it, you probably noticed that our sponsorships were down, and the numbers had stagnated. I won’t get into the reasons for that.”

A smile played across Grace’s lips. Of course Ben wouldn’t get into the reasons why Gracenotes had tanked. It had tanked because it was Graceless. Not that she’d rub that in his face.

“I still think it’s a good business model,” Ben was saying. “For the right person. Somebody like you. Anyway, if you want it back, it’s yours. I’ll send you the new passwords and the contact info for the current advertisers. We can work out a payment schedule as we go.”

Was that a compliment he was sneaking in under the radar?

“Where is all this going, Ben?” she asked.

“Shit.” He sighed.

“Ben?”

“What? You want me to grovel? Beg for forgiveness? Not my style, Grace, and you know it.”

“You sure know how to charm a girl,” Grace said, her tone acidic.

He sighed. “Sorry. This isn’t easy for me. A lot’s happened, Grace. Do I regret what happened? Yeah. I do. J’Aimee was a mistake. Huge mistake. And I take responsibility for that. I’d like to think I’m a better man than that.”

“You used to be a better man than that,” Grace said quietly. “But there’s a lot I regret, too. Drowning your car was not one of my finer moments.”

He laughed. “Nor mine. But I guess I probably had it coming.”

“So. Where does this leave us?” she asked.

“I guess you don’t want to buy out my share of the house?”

She shuddered. The fact that Ben had just given her the closest thing to an apology she’d ever get from him didn’t mean she ever intended to spend another night in the house where he’d betrayed her.

“No thanks.”

“Didn’t think so. I’ll e-mail you the listing agreement. You can let me know if you think the asking price is realistic. I’d like to get out from under it as quickly as possible.”

“Whatever you want,” Grace said. “The faster it sells, the faster I can buy a house for myself.”

“Yeah. About that. I went to see the old man over there on Mandevilla.”

“Arthur. He told me. And he offered to sell it to me for a price I can’t pass up.”

“Good,” Ben said gruffly. “You should have a