Strolling back into her room, she slipped on a pair of panties and matching bra. Jeans, socks, and a purple T-shirt followed. She sat on the side of the bed and laced up her canvas sneakers. Shamus's scent wafted up from the sheets and she had to fight the urge to bury her face in the pillow that still bore the indentation where his head had rested last night.
She had it bad.
Turning away, she noticed the note propped up against the bedside lamp. Her stomach jumped as she snatched it up. Maybe Shamus had changed his mind after last night. Not that she would blame him. Maybe it was better to make a clean break now, rather than later.
She opened the folded sheet and let out a sigh of relief. “See you later,” it read. He hadn't even signed it. Still, she folded it carefully as she rose from the bed. Going over to her dresser, she opened the drawer and tucked it carefully inside.
"Right,” she said aloud as she shut the drawer. “You have work to do."
Striding back to the bed, she stripped the sheets. Laundry was first on her list this morning. She could get a load started while she had breakfast. She really needed to contact her lawyer today to see what progress Alicia was making in wrestling control of the estate from the esteemed grip of Harris and Hammond. It was only a matter of time until it happened, but that didn't mean that Elijah Harris would make it easy on them.
Cyndi glanced at her watch and sighed. It was too early to call her lawyer. She'd have to wait at least another hour. Determined, she grabbed one of the empty pillowcases from the bed and stuffed all her dirty laundry inside. A quick trip to the bathroom and she had the towels as well.
Lugging it all down the stairs, she headed for the laundry room. What she needed was a hot cup of tea and some toast while she made lists of everything she needed to do today.
"They're stalling. I've gotten several letters from them, questioning your competency with regards to handling the estate."
"You what?” Cyndi couldn't believe what her lawyer was telling her. She switched the phone to her other ear and sat down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs.
"Don't worry.” Alicia chuckled on the other end. “They're just playing hardball. They have no basis for their allegation. She paused. “Do they?"
"Of course not.” Cyndi dragged her fingers through her hair and took a deep breath. “Although.” She so didn't want to dig up the past, but it seemed as if the firm of Harris and Hammond weren't giving her any choice.
"Although what?” Alicia's voice was sharp. “Is there something you haven't told me?"
"There's a lot I haven't told you. I didn't think it mattered now that my father was dead.” It seemed as if the past was determined to come to light no matter how much Cyndi wanted it kept buried. Still, she would not let her father or his cronies win. Not this time.
"Tell me."
"My father had a doctor lie about my mental competency when I finished high school. He used it to keep me from getting into college."
There was dead silence on the other end of the line. “I always knew your father was a bastard."
Cyndi laughed. She really liked her tart-tongued lawyer. “You don't know the half of it."
"No, but I probably should."
That pushed all thoughts of laughter aside. “If you feel you have to...” Cyndi really didn't want to rehash the past, not again.
Alicia's voice was low and determined. “If Harris and Hammond know things I don't, it might make things more difficult."
"When do you want to talk?"
"What are you doing this morning?"
Cyndi glanced around the kitchen. The dishes from last night's supper were waiting to be washed, the washer was chugging away in the next room, and she had a list a mile long on the table in front of her. “I'm working at home."
"I'm coming out. It will be better if we talk there with no chance of interruption."
Glancing at her watch, Cyndi decided that Alicia was right. She wasn't expecting Shamus for several hours yet. Plenty of time for her and her lawyer to talk. “Okay. I'll be here."
"Cyndi.” Alicia's voice was warm and reassuring. “Whatever you tell me is confidential."
"I know.” She rubbed her forehead, the beginning of a tension headache forming behind her eyes. “It's just not something I talk about."
"I understand. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary."
There was no mistaking the other woman's sincerity. “I know, Alicia. I appreciate you taking the time to come out here. I'm not sure I could talk about it in your office."
"I'll be there sometime in the next half hour."
"I'll be waiting.” She turned off the phone and tossed it onto the table. Shoving her notes aside, she stood and began to clean the kitchen.
The remains of the meal from the night before all went in the garbage, the dirty dishes in the sink. Cyndi washed and dried and cleaned and scrubbed. When that was done, she started a fresh pot of coffee before she headed to the laundry room. One load of clothing went into the dryer, before she loaded the washing machine again.
Cyndi wandered back to the kitchen and picked up her lists, scanning them. Even though it didn't feel like it, she was making progress. Soon, her estate would be totally in her own hands, and she'd finally be able to begin to make changes.
Over the past few days, she'd been digging through her father's files and was already making a list of items to take care of regarding those. She'd decided what changes she wanted made to the house, but would finalize those when Shamus had a chance to go over them and make recommendations. This was what he did for a living, so she'd be a fool if she didn't listen to his ideas. She was rather curious to find out his thoughts on the project. The antique dealer and the rare book dealer would be here tomorrow and they'd start the process of clearing out the house.
The sheer amount of work she had to do was almost overwhelming, but she was no quitter. She'd get through it all one day at a time, one item at a time.
And she'd left off the biggest obstacle on her list—Jamesville. She had yet to really go out around the town since her first day here. It was hard to admit it to herself, but she was afraid. Now that people here knew who she was, Cyndi hadn't worked up the nerve to face them. Yet. She would. She had to if she was ever going to make any kind of life here.
"One thing at a time,” she muttered, laying a hand over her churning stomach. She'd thought her days of running on nerves alone were long over, but returning to Jamesville had brought it all back. “I won't live like that,” she promised. She'd moved beyond that part of her life. She was no victim and would not play the part again. She was strong and capable. “You can do this."
The doorbell rang, startling her. “Get a grip, Cyndi.” She laid her lists aside and strode to the door. Pasting a smile on her face, she opened it. Alicia Flint stood on the front step looking smart in a pants suit, tailored much like a man's. A bright red blouse peeked out from between the lapels of the gray pinstripe jacket.
"Can I come in?” Alicia stepped forward, her leather briefcase clutched in her left hand.
Feeling foolish for just standing there, she held the door wide open. “Of course.” Cyndi stepped aside and Alicia strode in.
"Where would you like to talk?"
Cyndi closed the door and led the way down the hall. “In the kitchen. I just brewed a pot of coffee if you'd like some."
"Would I?” Alicia gave a low, throaty laugh. “I've only had one this morning and it's definitely time for more.” They entered the kitchen and the other woman glanced around. “Nice."
"Thanks, but I can't take credit for it.” She motioned to the table, fussing with the coffee and mugs to try to divert her attention from what was coming.
Alicia laid her briefcase on the table and opened it, drawing out a legal pad and a pen. She unbuttoned her jacket, peeled it off, and draped it over one of the other chairs. “I have a feeling this might take a while."