Chapter Eight
The next two hours are a blur of paperwork and stifling waiting.
Soon after Uncle Landon makes the phone call, the quaint old office floods with people. A haggard-looking Patricia, her hair a dark silver instead of platinum blonde. A representative from my bank. Charlotte Thomas, from Miller Industries. I need to be prequalified to participate in bidding.
Gabriel signs his form shortly after the notary arrives. With a curt nod he takes his leave from the group. He barely glances at me before striding from the room, presumably taking the sleek limo with him. I pretend that’s why I’m disappointed, that I’ll have to take the bus home.
Not because I want to spend more time with him.
Except that when I step outside, the limo idles down the street.
As I watch, the driver pull
