Amanda M. Lee [Lee - Above the Fold & Below the Belt (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 14)

I hate men!

I made the announcement with enough zest that I expected my grandfather to jump out of his seat, salute and immediately join the movement I was about to kick off.

Instead, he sat in his underwear tighty-whities, if you must know and continued reading his newspaper as if he hadnt heard me. I have a voice that carries (some say like an opera singer, others a cat in heat) and I knew that wasnt a possibility, so I glared until he finally lifted his eyes to me.

Heres the thing about my grandfather: Hes his own person. He doesnt care what anyone thinks about him. He does only what he wants to do ... and that includes sitting around in his underwear no matter who might enter the house without knocking. Hes loyal and will wage war for his family, but hes not the type to go out of his way to fight the good fight unless theres something in it for him.

I get that from him, which doesnt make the family happy most days.

What are you complaining about now? Grandpa whined as he shook his newspaper for emphasis. Im busy.

I rolled my eyes. I knew him better than most and recognized the newspaper shtick as an act. You had the television turned to The Young and the Restless until you heard me pull up in the driveway. Youre not fooling anybody.

Grandpa narrowed his eyes. I was not. I dont watch soap operas. That is just ... so ridiculous.

If you dont watch soap operas, how did you know I was even talking about a soap opera? I shot back.

Immediately recognizing his error, Grandpa shifted tactics and sighed. If you tell anyone Ill make it so you have to work at the restaurant this weekend instead of going out with your little boyfriend, Avery.

Thats me, by the way. Avery Shaw. I have a reputation for making people the world over cry when I dont get my way. Sometimes its out of frustration. Other times its out of fear. Ive often been called a bully, which I dont like because thats not how I roll. I dont go after those weaker than me. I go after those who pretend to be strong and try to subjugate me. Theres a difference.

Oh, and I never lose. Thats another reason people want to cry when theyre around me. My mother claims its because I give her migraines, but Im pretty sure shes exaggerating. That goes back to my voice sounding like an opera singers. My mother is always exaggerating, which is why I often seek out my grandfather when Im in a mood.

He doesnt always agree with me. Contrary to popular opinion, I dont want that anyway. He pushes back when necessary. He also jumps in with both feet when I have an idea other people might consider wacky. My grandfather has never met a bad idea he didnt want to embrace.

I also get that from him.

I cant work this weekend. I was firm. There was no way I would allow him to bulldoze me into picking up extra shifts. I hated working at the family restaurant serving people and pretending to be polite is not one of my strengths and I had other plans with my boyfriend Jake. Grandpa knew that, which is why he whipped out that particular threat. Only certain people understand how to motivate me, and hes at the front of that short line.

I can make you work, Grandpa threatened.

You and what army? I opted against backing down though it was a risk. Im a month away from going to college. Ill quit now if you keep pushing me.

Grandpa arched a challenging eyebrow. Are you threatening me?

His tone made me nervous, something Id never admit to. No. Im making you a promise. As in, I promise to quit and leave you in the lurch if you dont stop threatening to screw up my weekend with Jake. I have only a limited amount of time left, for crying out loud.

Grandpas expression softened, though only marginally. Is that your problem? Youre leaving for college and suddenly youre feeling sentimental? No offense, kid, but thats normal. Youll be fine. Its not as if you and Jake wont see each other. Hell visit, youll visit, blah, blah, blah. Grandpa moved his eyes back to his newspaper. Im sure youll be able to make out at different schools if you arrange your schedules properly.

His lack of interest in my social life was grating. I had other things to focus on, though. Dont you care that Im having issues?

He slowly tracked his eyes back to me. Am I supposed to care about whatever it is that has turned you into a blathering mess?

I extended a warning finger. Hey! I never blather.

You blather all the time.

I do not.

You do so.

I do not.

He made a growling sound in the back of his throat. You do so ... and knock it off. Im trying to relax before I have to go back to the restaurant for the dinner rush. I have only so much time to relax and I dont want to spend it listening to you blather.

That did it. He was purposely trying to make my head implode. There could be no other explanation. Do you want me to set that newspaper on fire? I threatened.

I believe weve both been urged to refrain from setting fires since that little brushfire incident you talked me into last fall turned out to be big enough for the fire department to show up.

My eyes went wide. It was rich that he would dare blame that on me. You set the fire!

Grandpa slapped his newspaper on his knees. Youre the one who gave me the idea.

For a little fire. I didnt tell you that setting a huge one was a good idea. I also didnt tell you adding lighter fluid was the way to get the wet leaves to burn.

Youre the one who bought the lighter fluid! he exploded.

Only because you told me to.

He shifted his eyes to the ceiling and muttered something under his breath that I couldnt quite make out. It sounded a lot like kill me now but I wasnt sure. What do you want, Avery? He changed tactics quickly. What is it that you want me to say ... or do ... or tell you to say or do?

I narrowed my eyes, suddenly suspicious. Whats with the change of heart?

I want you to shut up, he replied without hesitation. The only way to ensure that is to either distract you with a new task or listen and pretend I care about this one. Listening seems to be the easiest route this go-around because it doesnt require pants.

He would change his mind on that one ... and fast. Fair enough. I shot him a bright smile that I knew came off more Pennywise the Clown than Doris Day. So ... you know your buddy Roger Adler?

Grandpa furrowed his brow, the newspaper completely forgotten. First off, I wouldnt call Roger my friend. You know I dont like him.

Because he beats you at golf?

One time, Grandpa snapped, his cheeks flushing red. He beat me one time ... and Im convinced he cheated.

Im still not sure how you cheat at golf, but Ill take your word for it, I said dryly. Anyway ....

Hes a big, fat cheat, Grandpa continued, frustration evident as he glared. I mean ... a total cheat. Hes the sort of cheat that gives cheaters a bad name.