It's A Wonderful Midlife Crisis (Good To The Last Death #1) - Robyn Peterman Page 0,93

it. Glancing over at Steve, I could see he was mouthing something to me as John nodded his head so hard, I was worried it would fall off. A head rolling across the floor right now could be a little awkward—for me.

Why didn’t Steve simply speak? Clarissa couldn’t hear him. I suppose after the Gideon porch debacle, Steve was a bit wary.

Staring at my best friend’s mouth, I could have sworn he was trying to tell me that Clarissa could see them. She gave absolutely no indication that she was aware of anyone but me in the room. There was no way Clarissa could see the dead. I suppose if John’s head flew off it would give me a better clue. It would be difficult for Clarissa not to notice a detached head if she could see it.

What I needed to do was get her to leave. Now.

“Your dad is a wonderful man,” I said, trying to end on a positive note. “I’ll miss him.”

“How stupid are you?” Clarissa inquired with a sneer, making her pretty face ugly.

Screw the positive note. I was too old to take this shit from her. My job at her father’s law firm didn’t own me anymore. I owned me. And thanks to Heather, I had a brand-new job. The song “Take This Job and Shove It” came to mind. I wished I could remember the words. I had no talent for singing whatsoever, but it was just Clarissa, Steve, John, some of my dead friends and me.

I grinned at the thought of me busting into song.

“I wouldn’t smile if I were you, Daisy,” Clarissa said in a tone so cold it made me extremely uncomfortable. “Things could get very bad for you.”

Done. I was done. Channeling Gram, I let Clarissa have it. “You know what? You are rude and socially unacceptable. Occasionally, I might be slower than a Sunday afternoon, but you have your nose stuck so high in the air that you could drown in a rainstorm. You’re mean and nasty. Working for you has been a living hell. If you can’t deal with that, you might want to think about having a personality transplant. Maybe the next set of paralegals you hire won’t want to jerk you bald.”

The shocked expression on Clarissa’s face was priceless. I would give almost anything if the girls were here to see it. Gram would be proud. I’d used at least three or four of her sayings. They felt damn good coming out of my mouth.

“You will regret this,” she snapped as she stood and glanced back at the corner of the room where my people were.

“It’s a job,” I said with an eye roll, unsure if she could see Steve and the others. However, I had no plans to ask her. I just wanted her to leave. If she kept showing up, I’d get a restraining order. “It’s not personal.”

“It’s a job. It’s not personal,” she mimicked in a squeaky, shrill voice. “Your foolishness will destroy you when you least expect it.”

I was definitely getting a damn restraining order.

“Out,” I said. “Get out of my house and don’t ever come back.”

Clarissa took her sweet time crossing the room. When she reached the front door, she paused and glared at me. Her perfume was cloying and her makeup was overdone. She was a hot mess of mean and I wanted nothing to do with her.

“I told you to stay away from him,” she said, narrowing her eyes to slits. “He’s mine.”

Oh. My. God. I almost burst out into laughter. This was about Gideon? No wonder she was confused.

“People belong to themselves,” I said calmly. “No one owns another.”

“We’ll just see about that, Daisy,” she said threateningly. “Won’t we? Give your husband my regards.”

Again, I almost laughed. Did she think I was married and seeing Gideon on the side? I was quite sure she’d use the information to let Gideon know what a hussy I was. I couldn’t wait to hear his reaction.

Part of me was shocked that she didn’t recall that Steve had died a year ago. It was preposterous but possible. Clarissa was all about Clarissa. If something didn’t pertain to her agenda, she couldn’t be bothered to remember. The death of one of her coworker’s husbands wasn’t important to her.

Clarissa Smith was a sorry excuse for a human.

With one last vicious glare, she walked out of my house. As soon as she crossed the threshold, I slammed the door shut so hard a picture fell