toast before Stormy had even clumsily squatted on the wet grass.
“Morning!”
The unexpected sound of the cheerful male voice coming from behind him, startled Miles. Stormy emitted an adorable purr of a sound that he reckoned was supposed to be a growl, but was cute as hell instead of remotely threatening.
Miles swung around and grinned at the sight of the familiar face peering at him from the other side of the low hedge bordering the back garden.
“Amos! Good morning, how are you?”
Because of the inclement weather, he hadn’t seen the gardener since his arrival. The elderly man was clad in green workman’s overalls and was holding a rake in one hand and a pair of garden shears in the other.
“Can’t complain,” Amos responded with a grin, his white teeth a dramatic contrast to his dark, wizened skin. But, seconds after his initial sanguine response, he proceeded to do exactly that, “This weather—ai ai ai—it’s so bad for my bones. Nothing but rain all day, every day. And the cold, I tell you, my knees don’t like this cold. But at least today my phone says there won’t be rain, just this wind. But I told myself —‘Amos, go trim the hedges while you can’. So here I am.”
“Do you need any help with the hedges, Amos?” Miles asked, hoping the old man would say “yes”. He needed the exercise and an excuse not to go back into that house and seek out Mrs. Cole.
Amos, however, looked quite offended by the question.
“I complain about my old bones, Mr. H, but I never said I can’t do my work.”
Shit.
“I know that you can do the work, Amos…I just need something to keep myself busy.”
“I only have this one pair of shears.”
Miles wasn’t too certain of the veracity of that statement, but he let it slide. Amos, like the intractable woman inside, clearly did not want him underfoot. It was humbling how much of a nuisance his employees appeared to think he was.
“Right. I’ll leave you to that then.”
Amos nodded and threw him a friendly grin before ambling away toward the front of the house. Miles sighed and stared at the closed back door. He supposed he could always re-listen to one of his audiobooks. Or play fucking Candy Crush again. The app that Vicki had jokingly installed on his phone had remained untouched for nearly two years. But in only four days, he had already reached Level 275. He would probably be a lot farther along if not for the infernal in-app purchases, which required a Wi-Fi connection. At least he hadn’t yet succumbed to using his precious, if spotty data, to purchase gold bars for boosters.
He hoped that by the time the Wi-Fi was restored, he wouldn’t have a bona fide addiction to the game. He didn’t want to wind up spending real money on a frivolous, time wasting app. The thought made him pause and he glowered before digging his phone out from his back pocket and swiping until he reached his sister’s number.
She answered immediately. “Seriously, Miles, you’re the only person in the world who still makes phone calls. Well, you and Tyler. You’re like old men stuck in young bodies.”
He chose to ignore that, “How much money have you spent on this Candy Crush game?”
“What?” The question floated to him on a tiny, incredulous laugh.
“You heard me.”
“I did, but it was such a ridiculous question it bore repeating. And because of that, I’m thinking you either, A—really, really miss your beloved baby sister. Or B—you’re bored out of your ever loving mind over there. And judging by your very offensive snort at option A, I’m going to guess that it’s the latter.”
His sister often portrayed herself as an annoying flake, but she was intelligent and perceptive. He sometimes wished Hugh had more of her smarts and she had more of Hugh’s ambition. Her flower shop was doing well, but with her business acumen she could do so much more. She had point blank refused to work for the family company. Preferring to do her own thing. And Miles respected her for that, even if he wished she were less content with just a tiny corner flower shop in Kensington. But his siblings were the way they were, and Miles loved them regardless.
“The electricity has been out for four days. And the bridge into town was damaged, and the transformer can’t be fixed until that’s repaired. We’re running on generator power, and Mrs. Cole has banned all non-essential electrical equipment,