Page 27 of Last Wish Wedding

“Nice to finally meet you,” Johnson said, already gathering his things. “Mac’s told me about your situation.”

Her smile faltered. Her situation?

“Before I go—” Johnson reached into his briefcase. “Here’s that research you asked me for on the Maritime Holdings merger and on Margaret Prescott’s will. The PI was thorough.” He handed Mac a thick manila folder. “Your assumption was correct.”

The world tilted sideways as Mac held the folder out to her. Noah’s grandmother’s will? A private investigator?

“Thanks, Johnson,” Mac said, seemingly oblivious to her shock.

Johnson nodded and left. The café chatter continued around them, but Kelsey couldn’t hear it over the roaring in her ears.

“You ready?” Mac asked, gathering his coat. “That place I mentioned is about forty minutes up the coast, but the drive’s gorgeous…”

Mac took Kelsey’s shopping bags from her as they walked outside. They made their way to the parked car with Mac chatting behind her, Kelsey stonily unable to comprehend what he had done.

“What is this?” she said once they were both inside the vehicle. Her voice was barely a whisper as she stared at the folder in her hands.

“I had Johnson look into—”

“I heard what he said.” The paper crinkled under her tightening grip. “You hired a private investigator? To look into the Prescotts?”

“I just wanted to confirm a suspicion. I thought it might help with your case.”

“My case?” Her voice rose sharply enough that his eyebrows quirked and a look of concern entered his eyes. She lowered it to a harsh whisper. “What gives you the right to investigate my personal business?”

“Kelsey—”

“Take me to the ferry. I’ll just make the noon crossing.”

Mac just looked at her incredulously.

“The ferry,” she repeated through gritted teeth.

Mac pulled the car out of the parking spot a little too fast. A few minutes later, tires squealed as he pulled into the marina parking.

“I was trying to help.”

She whirled to face him. “By going behind my back? By digging into private matters that have nothing to do with you?”

“I have resources—”

“I don’t need your resources!” She poked a finger into his chest. “I don’t want you interfering in my life like this. God, Mac, I barely know you!”

“That’s not—”

She was already out the door, the folder crumpled in her hand. Without looking behind her, she hurried to the ticket booth and just barely made the ferry before they raised the gangway.

She took a seat outside to gather herself. She just needed to breathe for a moment. The folder burned in her hands like a bomb about to detonate, and Kelsey stared out at the water, blinking back angry tears.

“I hate men,” Kelsey announced, sprawled on her couch as Amy poured them each a second glass of wine.

“All of them, or just the ones who think they know what’s best for us?” Amy settled into the armchair, tucking her feet under her.

“Yes.” Kelsey stared at the folder on the coffee table. She’d thrown it there when she got home, but somehow it seemed to take up the whole room.

“So, what happened? One moment you’re all perfumed up for your sailing date, the next you’re home looking like someone killed your puppy.”

Kelsey took a long drink of wine. “He hired a private investigator.”