The Guests on South Battery (Tradd Street #5)

“Can you wait that long?” he asked as he kissed me again.

Just so I could recall a few brain cells, I slid my glance over to my computer screen, where I’d been working on a spreadsheet of houses for a client. Clearing my throat, I said, “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Jayne was blowing bubbles in the front garden with the babies and puppies—which is a little too adorable, by the way—and they didn’t look like they needed my help. I’d just sent in my revisions to my editor in New York and figured everything was under control, so I took advantage of the situation and not only showered and shaved, but put on real clothes, too. I figured I’d take my best girl out to lunch to celebrate.”

My stomach growled—a common occurrence now that even Mrs. Houlihan was conspiring against me and not stocking any of my favorite snacks in the kitchen. My only choices were fruit and gluten-free granola bars and absolutely nothing with the words “Hostess” or “Sara Lee” on the box. And instead of doughnuts or cheese grits and bacon for breakfast, she was making me things like egg-white omelets and vegetable frittatas. No wonder I was hungry all the time. All this healthy eating was not only baffling but killing me.

“The Brown Dog Deli?” I suggested eagerly. It was near my office on Broad Street and had the best sandwiches in the world. They served things like hummus and vegan chili dogs, but they also had a lot of real-people options, too.

Jack looked at his watch, my wedding gift to him, engraved with our anniversary date so he’d never have an excuse for missing it. “It’s still early, so hopefully it will be quiet enough so we can talk.”

I sent him a worried glance as I stood and picked up my purse. “Is everything all right? With Jayne and the children?”

He put his hand on the small of my back as he guided me from my office. “They’re perfect. It’s just . . . well, we’ll talk about it once we get food in your stomach. We both know what you’re like when you’re hungry.” He moved his hand around the elastic waistband of my skirt. “Have you lost weight?”

I stopped to look up at him. I didn’t own a scale, having never needed one, the only person ever concerned about my weight being my ob/gyn while I was pregnant. I’d always been on the thin side and able to eat anything I wanted. It was in my genes, and all I had to do was look at my mother to be reassured that any residual lumpiness left over from my pregnancy would work itself out on its own. Until now.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Do you think I’m fat?”

“Now, Mellie. I was simply commenting on the fact that your skirt seems loose on you. That’s all. You know I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” Right before he kissed me I had a stray thought about how he always used a kiss to stop any argument. And how it always worked.

Jolly looked up as we entered the reception area, her eyes brightening as they rested on Jack. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Headed out to lunch?” she asked, and I was pretty sure she’d batted her eyelashes.

“Yes. I’ll keep my cell on just in case there’s anything urgent. Otherwise please just take a message. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

Dragonfly earrings dangled from her ears, shimmying as she shook her hair, her gaze not drifting away from Jack. “Can I give you a reading? No charge for the first one.”

“A reading?” He looked genuinely confused.

She gave me a reproachful glance before quickly turning back to Jack. “Didn’t Melanie tell you? I’m a psychic. I can talk with the dead.”

“Can you?” Jack asked, resting his elbows on the reception desk and leaning toward the receptionist. “How fascinating. Do you see anybody around me right now?”

Jolly closed her eyes, revealing a swath of sparkly blue eyeshadow on her lids, and began rubbing her lips together. “Yes. Yes, I do. A man. An older man with dark hair like yours.” Her eyes opened abruptly. “Has your father crossed over?”

“Seeing as I just hung up the phone with him right before I came in here, I’d have to say no. Is there anything else?”

Jolly closed her eyes again and I poked my finger into Jack’s ribs, making him grunt softly.

“He’s holding up a piece of jewelry—a bracelet, I think. Maybe he’s a jeweler?” She opened her eyes again and beamed at Jack, and this time she definitely batted her eyelashes.

“Thank you,” Jack said. “I’m sure after I think for a while I’ll figure out who that could have been.”

“You be sure to let me know, all right?” Jolly wrote something down in the alligator-picture-covered notebook. “I keep a list so I can gauge my accuracy.”

“What’s your percentage so far?”