A Home Of Her Own. Cathleen Connors
a manicured hand through her hair, the woman responded in a voice so sweet one could have glazed a Christmas ham with it. “I don’t believe for a minute that Buck hasn’t mentioned me.”
Shrugging her shoulders, Melodie explained, “We really haven’t had much time to visit.”
As Judy Roes chewed on this bit of information, Melodie came to realize that they were the focal point of everyone’s attention. It seemed every eye in the room was staring at them. She apparently was the only one in the dark as to this woman’s identity and purpose.
“Look,” Melodie said, jumping to the first reasonable explanation that popped into her head. “If you’re interested in buying my mother’s estate, I’m not selling. And certainly not today.”
It was hard to imagine the gall of some people. She liked to think that decency would keep the buzzards from circling for at least a couple of days.
Judy threw her head back as if Melodie had slapped her. Her eyes narrowed into thin cat slits as she hissed, “I’m not interested in buying anything. I’m Buck’s fiancée!”
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