Lisa Stone patted her stomach. “We gals need to watch our hourglass figures.” Carly was the first to admit her fifty-six-year-old mom looked fantastic. She colored out the grays. She had minimal wrinkles because she’d always been adamant about using sunscreen. Regardless of her mother’s appearance, her horrid disposition overshadowed any physical beauty that she had.
“Fine, whatever,” Carly said setting down the tongs.
Ed Stone rolled his eyes. “Stop badgering her, Lisa.” The retired IRS auditor had the patience of a saint, so his brusque tone caught her ear.
“Shut your trap, Eddy. Unlike Cassandra, this one’s no lightweight.”
Her dad sighed. The only time she’d received her mom’s approval was during college when she’d practically starved herself and dropped to what Ashton had called, “A bag of bones with a few layers of skin.”
“Mom.” Carly steeled her spine. “Not everyone is skinny. I run. I lift. I play racquetball. My body is so different from yours and Cassie’s.”
Her mother glared at her. “Would it kill you to call her Cassandra? You could stand to lose ten pounds—and let me be frank —that’s a conservative number, missy. I’m just trying to help you catch a man.”
Carly wanted to throw up. If “catching a man” had been her endgame, she sure as hell did not want her mother’s help. She pushed away her unfinished burger. “I have to go.”
“Like hell you do,” said her mom. “Time to talk business.” She snapped her fingers. “Ed, clean up.”
“No.” Her dad never pushed back. “I’m done taking orders from you. If you don’t tell Carly why you called her over, I will.”
“Save it, Ed.” Lisa eyed her daughter. “Your dad and I are getting a divorce.”
Carly snapped to attention.
“Things between me and Ross have gotten serious,” her mom said. “He’s moving in.”
“Where are you going?” she asked her dad.
Pushing out of the chair, he leaned his backside against the counter. “Florida. Time for me to start over.”
Who can blame you? “Okay.”
“I’ve agreed to give up my half of your dad’s pension,” said her mom. “In exchange, he’s turning over management rights for the office space in that shitty rundown building your idiot grandfather worked out of. Going forward, I’m your new landlord.”
Her guts twisted. This was a total appetite killer. “Seriously, Dad?”
“Yeah.” His sheepish expression might have been his version of an apology. Carly had no freakin’ idea.
“How much are you jacking up my rent?” she asked, glaring at her mom.
“Not one little penny!” Her mother’s flamboyant smile sent shivers racing down Carly’s spine. “I’ve found someone willing to pay me triple what your dad’s been charging you. You have two weeks to clear out.” She brushed her hands together, as if clearing crumbs off her fingers.
Carly’s heart dipped. No way could she afford to pay double, let alone triple. “Dad, why don’t you sell the building?”
“I will, at some point,” he replied. “I’m ready to put this sham of a marriage behind me and move on.” He rose. “I’m going to finish packing.” Then, he patted Carly’s back. “You can meet clients in a coffee shop or on a park bench.”
She grimaced. “I’m a private investigator, not a spy.”
“Once I’m settled, I hope you’ll come visit me.”
“Oh, sure, her you invite,” quipped her mom.
“Lisa, let’s be civil with each other. We had some good times and we’ve been blessed with two wonderful daughters. For too many years, I put up with your cheating, then I endured our open marriage while you’ve paraded men through here. I doubt Ross will stick around for long, but good for you if he does. And just so that we’re clear, this marriage isn’t open or closed. It’s over.”
And with that, he left the room.
After a nonchalant shrug, Lisa turned to Carly. “Be out of the building by the end of the month. And take a look at your ass in the mirror, young lady.” Her mom left the kitchen, taking her haughty expression with her.
Carly wanted to fling her glass against the wall or flip over the kitchen table. Instead, she fiddled with her stackable rings, forcing herself to calm down. Maybe she’s doing me a favor. I won’t have to deal with her anymore. She’d be a witch of a landlord.