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?”

“Well, I want the money I deserve, and you are my lawyer, so do your magic.” Even though Madison couldn’t do anything about the will at this point, there had to be a way to make sure she’d get the money eventually, preferably sooner rather than later.

“It’s impossible.”

“There has to be a way.”

“Are you serious?”

The bench under Madison squeaked when she leaned back. The smell of fries, burgers, and coffee invaded her nostrils, while the clinking of dinnerware and the chatter of other customers surrounded her. She let her gaze roam across the diner.

The waitress at the other side of the room was a real cutie. A little bit too skinny and the shadows under her eyes weren’t all that sexy, but otherwise she could be a nice distraction.

“Mad?”