His pause was about a millionth of a second, but just long enough for Emily to realize he had to think about his answer. Which was all the answer she needed.
“What? Yes. I mean, no. Yes, I called to see if you wanted to have coffee, but I admit I was hoping you could help me figure out this girl’s angle. She must be after his money or running some kind of con. My dad told me yesterday that he wants to retire and move here, and they plan to travel all over the world. He’s only known her for four weeks, and she’s less than half his age, so yeah, I’m worried.”
He sounded more annoyed than worried.
“I don’t have any idea who she is, but this isn’t exactly the kind of place someone comes to scam somebody.”
“Maybe it wasn’t something premeditated, but I think this girl met him, saw her chance, and pounced. I think he’s her meal ticket off this island. And if he brings her back to Sacramento and marries her? Well, California is a fifty-fifty state.”
“Meaning that if he marries her, she gets half of his stuff in the inevitable divorce?”
Emily had met enough wealthy people in her life to know that most of them were worried that other people were after their money. Nick’s parents had been those kinds of people, convinced she was just some country mouse after their son’s good name and inheritance. She wasn’t, of course. She was only after his great body. What a mistake that had been.
“Right. And potentially half of our family company. My father is just not himself these days. He’s not thinking clearly. If she is a gold-digging bimbo, I’m afraid he’ll do something he can’t easily undo, like sign over his shares and promise her everything.”
This definitely sounded like Nick’s family. Ryan’s worries might be well-founded, but it still struck a little close to home. Emily had no idea who this woman was or what her intentions were, but Ryan probably needed to cut her some slack until he had more information. Emily turned away from her grandmother, but Gigi scooched her chair closer. She wasn’t even trying to be subtle about eavesdropping now.
“You know, it’s quite possible that she just likes him because she likes him. Does there have to be some big ulterior motive behind it?”
“She’s half his age.”
“True, which is probably something to worry about, but if she’s just interested in his money, she wouldn’t want him to retire, would she?”
“Like I said, she wants to travel. I think it’s his whole lifestyle she’s after.”
Emily stirred a little cream into her coffee. “I don’t know what to tell you, Ryan. I don’t know this Daisy you’re talking about.”
Emily really had enough of her own drama to deal with, both personal and professional. She didn’t need his, and if he’d wanted information, he should have been straight with her instead of inviting her out for a pseudo-date. He needed to take care of his own problems. “I’ll ask around, okay? I’ll see if anyone knows who she is, but in the meantime, I’d say just let him have his fun.”
“Emily? Are you here?” The screen door slammed, and a millisecond later her sister’s sandals squeaked across the linoleum as she halted in the kitchen doorway, looking windblown and rosy-cheeked. Her dark hair was in a high ponytail, and she wore white denim shorts that made her tanned legs look a mile long.
“Hey, I have to run,” Emily said into the phone. “My sister just got here. If you come to the Lilac Festival, I’ll be in the pie tent. Bye.” She disconnected the call and dropped her phone on the kitchen table while simultaneously being enveloped into Lilly’s enthusiastic embrace. Her sister’s arms wrapped around Emily and squeezed her tight before she could even stand up.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you’re here.”
She turned to Chloe. “Oh. My. Gosh. Will you look at you? You’re gorgeous!” She hugged her niece until Chloe squeaked.
“Hi, Aunt Lilly. How are you?” Chloe asked breathlessly.
“I’m famished.” She plopped down into the chair next to Emily and grabbed a waffle, taking a bite from one corner. “So sorry about missing dinner last night on your first day back. I had a thing.”
Lilly’s hair was the same dark shade as Brooke’s but without the curl, and her smile was nearly constant.
Gigi got up from her chair to pull another coffee mug from the cabinet. “You had a thing? Does that thing have a name? And a tallywacker?”
Lilly blushed. “It’s not what you think, Gigi. There’s no guy. I know everyone thinks there’s a guy, but there’s no guy.”
“Uh-huh.” Gigi’s tone echoed her disbelief. “Myrna Delroy said you were late to work twice this week and acting very strangely. And Dmitri Krushnic said he was out checking his bees a few evenings ago and could have sworn he saw you walking toward the old lighthouse with some fella.”
Lilly rolled her eyes as she accepted the cup of coffee from Gigi’s outstretched hand. “Yes, you nosy old coot. I was walking to the lighthouse a few nights ago. With Percy O’Keefe. Only we weren’t walking together on purpose. He saw me and insisted on tagging along. You know how he is.”
“You think Dmitri wouldn’t have recognized Percy O’Keefe?” Gigi was a pit bull on the prowl.
“What I think is that it was dusk and Dmitri can’t see shit through that stupid beekeeping hat he always wears. I could have been walking with a yeti and he wouldn’t have been able to tell. Everyone on this island just needs to chill and stop trying to create a romance for me.”
“Good to know that the gossip mill is still going strong,” Emily said, squeezing her sister’s arm in solidarity. She’d been on the receiving end of that often enough.
“The gossip mill is alive and well, and no thanks to this one.” Lilly nodded at Gigi, but her smile was sweet and her tone teasing. “Why don’t you get married again, Gigi? Then you won’t have so much time on your hands to make up stories about me.”
“Oh, you know I’m always looking. I’ve still got room for one more on that mantel.”
“Mantel?” Chloe asked.
Emily and her sister turned in unison to gaze at the mantel above Gigi’s green-tiled fireplace where three distinctive urns sat. Each one held a husband. And while three dead husbands all for one woman might have aroused some suspicion, the manner in which each man met his untimely death clearly exonerated Gigi of anything except exceedingly bad luck. Not as bad as the luck of those dead husbands, but bad nonetheless.
Gigi put a hand over her heart. “Yes, that’s where I keep them, the dears.”
Chloe’s eyes went round as she stared. “There’s a dead guy in each of those vases? How did they die?”
“Well, your great-grandfather died when he insisted on proving that lightning can strike twice. Turns out he was right.”