The Space Between Read Online Free PDF

thoughts.
    We were in a strong position despite a freak Thanksgiving blizzard that brought progress to a standstill for over a week, not to mention our father’s fatal stroke. We bounced back from all of it as best we could, but Angus’s shadow lingered over us.
    I counted seven investment restorations that would be hitting the market within the next six weeks, plus a full slate of client projects launching in March, and three dozen new queries for our services in the past week.
    “So when are we going to read Angus’s will?” Riley asked.
    Shannon minimized her open screens, leaving a picture of the five of us after we finished last year’s marathon. The envelope arrived from Angus’s attorney by messenger last week during my standing budget meeting with Shannon. We stared at each other and the delivery for longer than logical before she stowed it in her safe. We didn’t say a word on the subject.
    “I have it in my office.” She looked up. “Sealed.”
    “Isn’t there a timeline or something?” Riley continued. “It’s been over a month since the miserable bastard shook hands with Satan.”
    Shannon rolled her shoulders as all eyes turned to her. “Yes, but…I think we need to be suitably drunk before that envelope opens. And set a few ground rules.”
    My sentiments exactly. It was anyone’s guess what Angus had in store for us, but I knew he wasn’t finished fucking us over. For all we knew, he left his assets to a stray Jack Russell terrier he befriended at the Alewife T station, leaving us with a few bags of rusty nails.
    “Does Erin need to be here for this?” I kept my eyes on my screen to avoid withering under the glare I knew Shannon was shooting at me. My attempt to end the feud between my sisters was proving more complex than anticipated.
    “No. Not when she couldn’t be bothered to show up for the funeral.” Shannon’s eyes swept the table, inviting a word of dissent. We all knew better than to go there. “I’ll FedEx her copy to her in Spain or Morocco or wherever the fuck she is now.”
    “Friday,” Matt offered. “At the house.”
    “No. I’m not driving out to Wellesley and getting drunk in the Haunted Mansion. That’s how the Blair Witch Project started.” Riley shook his head. “And I won’t ride the commuter rail back in, not drunk, and especially not since a goddamn python went missing on one of those trains.”
    “Now that’s a coherent argument if I’ve ever heard one,” Sam deadpanned, twisting the titanium ring on his thumb.
    “My place,” Matt said.
    We nodded quietly but didn’t meet each other’s eyes. We were better when we lived in the present, in the lives we created for ourselves. We struggled with the lingering gore of our history, and true to form, we coped by ignoring, avoiding, and evading.
    And alcohol. Lots of alcohol.
    “Only if Miss Honey’s going to be there,” Riley said. “And she orders me some paella.”
    Matt shook his head as he turned to Riley. “My fiancée lives there, and I’ll order paella, but do not call her that or any derivative of that.”
    “You call her that,” he retorted.
    “Right. She’s my Miss Honey. It’s part of the deal when I put a ring on it.”
    “All right,” Shannon muttered. “Enough. We’ll figure this out on Friday. I’ll put Tom on catering duty. You all go do what you do, and be wonderful at it.”
    “Damn straight, sister,” Riley hollered. I continued typing notes while my siblings shuffled out.
    I had at least two major issues to handle at jobsites and a short lifetime’s worth of prep for the next wave of projects, but I reviewed emails from my general contractors and tweaked four bids before sending them to clients.
    Twelve stairs and a landing separated me from Andy.
    I was stalling.

Chapter Five
    ANDY
    “T houghts?”
    Patrick approached me when he was finished discussing the terrace excavation necessary to fix the main drain issues with the plumber, welder, and mason. I learned