Madison was actually glad her grandmother didn’t finish the sentence. Feeling raw, she stumbled to the couch and grabbed an open bottle of vodka. She emptied the remains of it in one big gulp. The burning calmed her nerves.

“You’re a drunkard.”

Madison shrugged. “What can I say? You were a good role model.”

Grandmother Eileen sniffed. “You’re a degenerate through and through. Don’t expect to get even a cent from me when your trust fund runs dry. Flinton recently told me that you’re not investing and that—”

“He has no right to talk with you about my financial affairs. That’s none of your business. Besides, he should have given me everything a long time ago instead of this ridiculous allowance every month.”

Grandmother Eileen shrugged. “The arrangement was set up to protect you from yourself. But it’s obvious that nothing can stop you from dragging yourself down into a black hole.” She stalked toward the door.

“You won’t live forever,” Madison blurted.

Madison’s words rooted her grandmother to the spot. Without turning around, she said, “You should know that I’m intending to cut you out of my will.”

Madison sucked in a breath. Was that a miserable attempt at a joke?

Grandmother Eileen sighed like a bad actress in a B-movie. “I’ve tried. Again and again.” Over her shoulder she scowled at Madison. “You refuse to grow up. You never take responsibility for anything or anybody. Not even for yourself. And it seems that will never change. It’s bad enough that you’re blowing through your trust fund. I won’t allow you to do the same with the family fortune.”

“You can’t do that.”

Her grandmother opened the door. “Oh, but I can. You are a disgrace to the Fielding name, and as God is my witness, I did my best to raise you well. But my patience has run out.”

Shit! Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? She needed that money. How else could she afford her lifestyle when her trust fund was spent? “Wait!” She followed her grandmother into the hallway.

“What? Haven’t you said enough?”

Now good acting skills were needed. If she just played the remorseful sinner convincingly, everything would work out fine. “I’m sorry. I really have no idea what came over me.”

One of Grandmother Eileen’s brows hiked up, but she kept silent.

She obviously needed to up her game. “Um, tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”

“Grow up,” her grandmother said. “Take responsibility. Show me that you’re worthy of the Fielding name. That or live with the consequences of your actions.” She paraded away, not sparing her another glance.

Two women in wrinkled clothes chose that moment to step out of the guest room. “Morning,” one of them mumbled. “Did we miss breakfast?”

Madison harrumphed, stomped into her bedroom, and slammed her door shut.

“Let me get this straight.” Janice set down her coffee cup on the diner’s plastic table and swiped a lose strand of her long auburn hair behind her ear. “You want to know how you can contest your grandmother’s will before she’s even died?”