Free Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) by K Anne Raines Page A

unaware of the slight left-to-right shuffle she was doing, Grace danced on her toes until the chime of the elevator reminded her to calm down. She drew in a breath and stepped into the hallway, following the arrow leading to the number of Minor’s office. With entirely too much force, she pushed the door open. The bell hanging from his office door clanked angrily against the wood frame, alerting everyone that an out-of-emotional-control female was on the loose. Grace winced with embarrassment.
    “ May I help you?” the receptionist asked, offering a smile that showed just a little too much teeth. Grateful for the lack of attention drawn to her overly dramatic entrance, Grace stepped up to the counter.
    “ Um, yes. I have an appointment with Paul Minor. I’m Grace Morgan.”
    The receptionist shot out of her seat like someone ripped her up by her hair. “Of course, Miss Morgan. Right this way, please.”
    Like a small child, she followed close behind. Grace nervously took in the office’s décor, looking everywhere but where she was walking, and almost ran into the lady’s back. Again . She seemed to be making a habit of that lately, and the thought inspired a bubble of nervous laughter that she fought to repress.
    “ Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee? Soda? Water, perhaps?”
    “ No, thank you. I’m fine.” They continued down the hall, Grace making sure to pay closer attention. She focused on her breathing and zeroed in on the hypnotic tick-tock of the receptionist’s brunette ponytail. It helped. Up until the lady stopped in front of the large double doors at the end of the hallway. The slight tap of the receptionist’s knuckles against the door caused a lump to form in Grace’s throat and her palms to go from sweaty to all-out drenched.
    Reluctantly, Grace followed her inside. “It’s Miss Morgan, Mr. Minor.”
    “ Thank you, Claire,” a man’s voice said, as she tried swallowing the lump down.
    The room was big and bright. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the entire far wall. Palms housed in pots were placed in the narrow space between each of them. A large oval conference table was staged in the middle with matching brown leather chairs encircling it. A large flat screen nearly covered the entire wall behind where a middle-aged man stood, presumably her grandfather’s estate lawyer, Paul Minor. On his left, in front of the windows, her mother sat in one of the leather chairs, her hands crossed elegantly on the table as she quietly watched her approach. Otherwise the room was empty, which meant that her relatives weren’t there yet, and she unconsciously released some of the air stuck in her lungs.
    “ Good afternoon, Grace,” the man said, as he walked around the table holding his hand out to her. As she shook it, he placed his other hand gently on top of hers and gazed at her with a solemn but kind expression as he continued. “I’m Paul Minor. It’s nice to meet you. Though I wish it weren’t under these circumstances.”
    She couldn’t agree more.
    When she took her hand back, she glanced at the floor blinking rapidly, her tears threatening to make another appearance. “Thank you,” she said quietly, not trusting her voice.
    Mr. Minor extended his arm in a sweep around the table. “Please, take a seat wherever you like and we’ll get started.”
    Confused, she brought her gaze back up to his. “We’re not going to wait for the others?”
    “ There are no others. I sent a copy of your grandfather’s will to his other legatees via courier today.”
    “ Oh.” Thank God, she thought, sending up a silent thank-you. “I thought there was going to be a reading of the will to everyone at once.”
    The lines around his eyes crinkled a little more deeply as he smiled. “Thankfully, that only happens in the movies.”
    “ Yes,” she agreed. “Thankfully.”
    Grace chose the chair directly across from her mother, and to the right of Mr. Minor. Still hung over with guilt, she kept her