“Rod,” Valerie asked during a lull of
“Do you see?”s. “Will you please tell me
what’s going on? Why there’s an albatross
after us? Where we’re headed? Why
we’re headed? Why I’m in a car with a
prince?”
Rod swung his gaze from the window. He
exhaled, his chest expanding in a way
guaranteed to make her forget her own name,
not to mention the questions she’d asked
him.
But she wasn’t going to allow herself to be
distracted. Good looks and charm—and a
crown—only got someone so far. Right now she
needed to know she wasn’t heading toward
some hostage situation or international
incident.
And why. Why her? All she wanted was to
collect the inheritance so she could save her
store.
“This won’t be easy for you to understand,
Valerie.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“He’s got a lot to tell you that you
don’t know,” said the talking seagull with
what she would swear was sarcasm, as he ran
from one side of the backseat to the other,
beak skyward, “but now’s not exactly the
right time for it. Albatross, remember? Just
go east.”
“I remember, Livingston. That doesn’t
necessarily mean I believe it. Besides, I have
more important concerns on my mind.”
“Nothing’s more important than this right
now, trust me.”
A talking bird? She was supposed to trust a
talking bird?
“Valerie,” Rod, a voice of reason,
answered. “There’s a lot you need to know,
but most of it you won’t believe without
proof. When we get to our destination, I
promise to explain everything.”
“Does this have anything to do with my
inheritance, or was that all a story to get me
to come on this mission for God-knows-whatever
reason?” She should have taken a closer look
at those papers.
“Indirectly, yes, it does have to do with
the inheritance,” Rod answered.
“Indirectly? How indirect are we talking?”
“Direct enough that if this albatross
succeeds,” quipped Livingston, “you
won’t be able to touch the inheritance. My
guess is you won’t be able to touch much of
anything.”
Words she did not find comforting.
“What if I don’t want to go to this
mysterious destination of yours?” she
bluffed. She was going, but only to get her
inheritance. She hadn’t signed on for
albatrosses, and surely she didn’t need Rod
with her to claim the inheritance.
“You can just tell me the lawyer’s
name and I’ll contact him myself. I’m
perfectly capable of getting to New Jersey
without you guys. Then you can take your
albatross wherever it is you want to go and
none of this will affect me.”
“No
can do, Valerie,” the bird said through
tight lips—er, beak. Which was an
interesting ability.
“Sure
I can—”
“Valerie,
he’s right.” Rod touched her arm again.
“Once we get to the beach, The Council will
administer your inheritance. It’s all been
spelled out. So you’re along for the
ride.”
As
long as she wasn’t being taken for one…
Wait
a minute.
“The
beach? You mean the beach town where they’re
going to meet us, right? Not the actual
beach?”
“No,
our rendezvous point is on the beach behind my
brother’s home. He has… facilities there
for such a meeting. Is that a problem?”
For
her? Yes. Big one. “Okay, what’s going on?
This isn’t funny. I’ve got taxes to worry
about and you guys are taking me on a
wild-goose chase.”
“Al-ba-tross,
Valerie. Not a goose,” Livingston said from
the backseat. “Albatross are bigger. More
cunning.”
“Someone’s
trying to be cunning. What—are you guys
working for the developer? I’ve already told
him I’m not selling. Is this the next
tactic? Trying to make me late with the taxes
by getting me out of town?”
“Valerie,
I have no idea what you’re talking about,”
Rod said, all insulted.
She
was insulted. “Look, I don’t like being
made a fool of. I’ll find some way to come
up with the tax money. I’m not selling to
him, especially after he’s pulled this, and
that’s final. You and your trained bird can
tell your boss to take a hike. I’m turning
this car around right now so you two can go
find some other patsy to play your prank
on.”
“Prank?”
Rod almost growled the word as he grabbed the
steering wheel. “I am not playing a prank on
you, Valerie. I don’t play pranks. I came
here to tell you about your inheritance and
bring you to it.”
“On
the beach.”
“Yes.”
“See?
That’s where this falls apart, Rod.” She
wrenched the wheel out of his grasp and turned
them back the way they’d come, jamming the
stick shift into the correct gear. “Even
with the seagull, I was onboard with this
whole thing, but next time, you should do your
homework before you try something like
this.”
“Something
like what? I have no idea what you’re
talking about.”
“Fine.
Here’s the problem with this scenario.”
She jerked her head to face him. “I can’t
go to the beach.”
“Why
not? It’s not that hard to get to.”
The
sarcasm came from the bird, so she threw it
right back at him. “Because, Livingston,
I’m allergic to the ocean. Deathly
allergic.”

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