Here Comes Trouble by Stewart Anna J

Author:Stewart, Anna J. [Stewart, Anna J.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780698183148
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2014-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

An early yoga class and twenty laps at the spa pool did nothing to rid Sheila of the tension knotting her entire skeletal system.

That late-morning hit of caffeine on the other hand, set the world right. The only thing that could make things perfect was scarfing down an entire package of Double Stuf Oreos, but dammit, she’d forgotten to stop at the store. She kicked her apartment door closed, dropped her gym bag on the floor. Ever since she’d eaten that burger the other night she’d been craving junk food.

But she was in for the rest of the day. The long, quiet, thought-filled endless day. She supposed she could call Morgan, but her sister’s Saturdays were spent at sporting events with the kids or helping Gage refurbish the aged two-story Victorian across the street from the Fiorellis’ he’d bought a month ago. Ugh. Sheila couldn’t think of anything more abhorrent than pulling up linoleum and scraping off wallpaper. Besides, Nathan was planning on lending a hand, which took care of sibling distraction number two.

Leaving bachelor number three, her art studio, as her default choice.

She’d finish her coffee first.

A flip of her stereo filled her home with the underpinnings of smooth jazz that tugged at the knots lodged in her shoulders. No sooner had she curled up in the corner of her sofa, bare feet tucked under her butt than the downstairs buzzer rang. “Of course.” She unfurled and padded over to the door. “Yes?”

“Delivery, Miss Tremayne.”

“I didn’t order anything.” That she remembered. “Who from?”

“I was just told to deliver, ma’am. Apartment 4A, correct?”

“Yeah, okay. Bring it up.” She depressed the button on the intercom and heard the buzz. She kept one eye on the peephole, the other on the white door under her winding staircase.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

She pulled a few singles out of her wallet before she opened the door for the deliveryman bounding onto her landing with a medium-sized box in his hands. “Miss Tremayne?” Wide eyes were magnified to cartoon status behind thick black-rimmed glasses. His lanky build made her think he could fly should he catch a cross wind at just the right time.

“Yeah. Thanks.” She accepted the box and examined the dime-sized holes punched out beneath the lid. “Is there a card?”

“Not that I know of, ma’am.” Eesh. The way the kid said ma’am made her wonder if she should rent a walker. “Have a good day.”

“Wait. Your tip—”

“Taken care of.” He grinned over his shoulder.

Sheila yelped as the box jerked in her hands. Door closed, she carried the vibrating box into the kitchen and set it on the counter. What on earth? She leaned down, heard something. Was that a . . . She flicked the lid and peered inside. A tiny black kitten blinked up at her as if she’d awoken it from a nap.

“Mew.” The white bow tied around its neck dwarfed the furry little creature as it hiked itself up to hook its paws over the edge of the box. “Mew.”

“Oh, boy.

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