Page 182 of The Billion Heirs Boxed Set

She drops her arm to her side and flicks more ashes on the worn carpet. “Do I look like an idiot to you?”

She really doesn’t want me to answer that question.

“I’m hungry,” I say. “It’s lunchtime. I’m going to get something to eat. Would you like to come along?”

“Who’s paying?” She eyes me suspiciously.

“Who do you think is paying? I invited you, Rainey, so of course it’s my treat.”

Her eyes narrow. “What’s your game, sister?”

If she’s shacking up with my dad, I’m definitely not her sister.

“I don’t think there’s any game involved in inviting someone to lunch.”

She pauses a moment, moves her gaze over and around me. “Yeah, yeah. I could eat. Let me get some clothes on.” She heads down a tiny hallway and disappears behind a door.

I take advantage of the few minutes to scout out the living room where Miles and I stood yesterday.

The worn sofa is the same dull brown color, and Rainey hasn’t bothered emptying the overflowing ashtray sitting beside it on a veneer end table. A couple of empty beer cans litter the floor, and a copy of People sits on the coffee table, open to a story about the Kardashians.

The blinds are open, letting some sunshine in, and the walls are the same yellowish white.

I pick up the beer cans and walk into the small kitchen. It’s actually in better shape than the living area, but not by much. Dirty Tupperware bowls are piled in the sink, and a loaf of store-bought white bread is sitting out, the plastic bag still open. I twist the bag closed so the bread won’t get stale.

I pick up empty cans again. If I were a recycling container, where would I be?

Then I laugh out loud. If the Bayfield Sheriff’s Office can’t recycle, my father certainly—

But I lift my eyebrows when I spy both a green container—sporting the triangular recycling symbol—and a black container sitting by the back door.

I’ll be damned. My father just went up a notch in my book. He recycles.

Of course, one notch doesn’t get him very far.

I toss the beer cans in the green container, and then I head back into the living room to grab the ashtray. Why not tidy up a little? This guy did father me, after all. As preposterous as that may seem.

I head toward the ashtray, but I’m waylaid by Rainey, who appears from behind her closed door now wearing skinny jeans and Iron Maiden T-shirt. Her platinum hair is pulled back in a ponytail now and her raccoon eyes are gone. If it weren’t for the scarlet lipstick, she actually wouldn’t look too bad. The fine lines marring her skin cover what was once an oval face with high cheekbones and a nicely defined jawline. Unfortunately, the years of cigarettes and alcohol have taken their toll.

“What’s your favorite place to eat around here?” I ask.

“Curt and I never eat out,” she says. “So I’m not really sure. There are a few places up the road a bit. I can show you.”

“Sure. We can take my car.”

“Good thing, seeing as I don’t have one.”

We walk out the door, and she clicks the key into the deadbolt, locking it. We get into my car, and she pulls a pack of cigarettes out of her purse.

“Sorry. No smoking in my car.” No way in hell is my car going to smell like an ashtray.

She scoffs, but she puts the cigarettes away. “Just go on out to the right, up the street, and then turn right onto the main drag. There’s some places a couple miles up.”

I follow her instructions and then I clear my throat. “So…how long have you and my dad been together?”

“About a year and a half.”

“So you didn’t know Joey. My brother.”