It's A Wonderful Midlife Crisis (Good To The Last Death #1) - Robyn Peterman Page 0,27

I asked, getting out of the car and leaving Donna put. The windows were open and she’d be fine. I hoped she didn’t eat the interior since I’d just gotten the car paid off, but I understood why my puppy didn’t want to get out. Clarissa was heinous.

“That’s not a nice way to treat a guest,” she informed me with an arched brow and a sour expression.

“You’re not a guest,” I told her with a polite smile that was in complete juxtaposition to the words that had just come out of my mouth.

Honestly, I didn’t care if she fired me. If she didn’t, I was going to quit. I didn’t want to be in the same building with Gideon, and not seeing Clarissa every day would be an added bonus. If I was careful, I could make the insurance money last a while. I’d find a new job. Maybe Missy would hire me. Or Heather might need a paralegal when she started her own practice.

The only thing I needed money for was to take care of Gram… and now Donna. The car was paid off and the mortgage and utilities were manageable.

“Invite me into your house,” Clarissa demanded.

“Are you a vampire?” I inquired with a grin.

My amusement didn’t amuse her. I didn’t care. I was kind of done for today and I still had to reattach Sam’s jaw.

“I’m your supervisor,” she snapped.

“You’re on private property,” I stated flatly as I unlocked the door.

“You’re on the clock, Daisy,” Clarissa reminded me. “I need to talk to you about work.”

I laughed. She didn’t.

“Clarissa, I don’t believe that, but if you want to play that game, go for it. Come on inside and we can talk about work.”

“When did you grow balls?” she inquired as she breezed past me and walked into my house.

“Today,” I said.

“Interesting. Any particular reason why?” she inquired as she looked around my house with great interest.

My home was lovely and warm. I’d done all the painting and some of the other manual labor things, but Steve had been the one with the great decorating skill. All of the furniture was overstuffed and in soothing patterns and faded florals. The floors were a lightly stained, pitted cherry and the walls were repossessed barn wood we’d bought at an estate sale.

The art on the walls represented places we’d gone together. We’d picked up a piece of art on every vacation we took. My favorite was a painting from France—a little café with colorfully dressed, chic people conversing and drinking coffee. Steve and I used to sit in front of our massive stone fireplace and make up the conversations of the folks in the painting with our horrible French accents. It was fun. We laughed. I missed all those silly moments desperately.

He’d loved me with all my faults, and I’d loved him with his.

“I asked you a question,” Clarissa said.

“I heard you,” I replied, half-tempted to offer her something to drink. Being Southern was very difficult to get out of your system. As much as I wanted her to leave, I couldn’t bring myself not to offer her refreshments.

As for why I’d grown a set of balls? That was none of her business. I was pretty sure I’d always had them, but they seemed to be showing more lately.

“Would you like coffee or lemonade?” I asked, hoping my facial expression didn’t show my attitude.

“Are you going to poison it?” she asked with a laugh.

She was dead serious.

“Umm… wasn’t going to, but if that’s how you like it, sure.”

“I’m fine,” she said, gazing at my couch.

There were three dead people seated on it, watching her with fear in their eyes. I didn’t blame them. She was scary.

If I wasn’t mistaken, they were the dead people from the church this morning. They had certainly moved in fast.

“Have a seat,” I said, wondering if she would sit on top of the specters.

She didn’t, which was a little odd. After staring at my couch for another long moment, she took a seat in an empty armchair—no dead person in it.

I was losing it. Clarissa wasn’t crazy. She was just plain mean. There was no way she could see my poltergeist. The fact that I was referring to them as mine was not a good sign.

Whatever.

The goal at the moment was to get rid of the abomination in my house. I’d take dead people over Clarissa any day of the week.

“So,” she said, plastering a smile on her face that didn’t reach her eyes. She was