The Divorcee Murder Club

Setenta Y Seis ~ 76

“Yeah, but… what do I do? I can’t become Augusta. I can’t run her empire. That’s not what I want our lives to be about.”

“So don’t.” Angie shrugs. “Don’t do things the way Augusta did them. Do it differently. That woman was a lot of things, like a major cunt, but she wasn’t dumb. She must have given this a lot of thought, and now it makes sense why she wanted you to work for her and for Bernard to be your mentor. She was preparing you.”

“So, you’re saying I should sign?”

Angie reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Do what you think is best, and whatever it is, I’ll support you, but… it would be pretty rad to see the look on Jocelyn’s bitch-face when she learns the mansion, and all the family money will go to you—some personal trainer who moonlights as a doorman at a nightclub.”

“And currently incarcerated.”

“Exactly!” she laughs. “It’s the biggest fuck you from the grave I’ve ever seen, and it’s brilliant. Jocelyn may have taken her out, but Augusta gets the last laugh. It’s so savage.”

“I wonder how much time I have to think about this?” Turning toward Benny, I nod, and he rises from the other table to rejoin us. 

“Have you decided?”

“When is the deadline to sign?” 

“Augusta instructed that you would have a week from when I present the documents.”

“Then I want that week. This is a big decision, and it comes with great responsibility.”

“That’s reasonable.”

“If I say yes, I want Bernard to hire a new security team with people he trusts. The fire and Augusta's death likely displaced a lot of the staff, like gardeners, maids, and cooks. Should they choose to work for me, I want them to still have a salary while they wait for the mansion to be repaired. Accepting the inheritance also means there will be targets on my family's backs. So, I want them to move into the mansion and have a security team guarding them at all times."

“All of that can be arranged. Anything else?”

I shake my head. “No, but I’ll have more when you return. If I sign.” 

“Alright.” Benny collects his things but leaves copies of the documents. 

Angie waits for him to disappear through the exit, then leans in from across the table. “I think we both know what your answer will be.”

“Maybe. I still want to be one hundred percent sure.”

The guard pacing the visitor’s room calls out that it’s time to wrap things up, so we rise from the table, grins spreading across our faces, and Angie’s cheeks grow warm with color, her gaze avoiding mine bashfully. The moment we’ve been waiting for has finally arrived. It’s strange how eager I usually am to get to the end of our visits, yet at the same time, wanting the minutes to stretch so I can savor each second with her.

However, the reward of kissing her soft lips gives me the strength to endure the days until I see her again. 

She weaves her arms around me, and I wrap mine around her, my chin resting on the top of her head as we breathe each other in. If only I didn’t have to let go. The guard calls out again, and there’s some groaning from a few other inmates visiting with their loved ones, too. I pull away just enough to gaze at Angie’s beautiful face before pressing my mouth to hers. We’re only allowed a kiss, not a make-out, but I slip her a little tongue anyway. 

Saying goodbye is always hard, but as I walk back to my cell, there’s something about the cement floor that isn’t as solid and cold as before. 

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