Read Online Cherry Pie by Samantha Kane - Free Book Online

lemonade?”
    John gave him a funny look and then walked over and reached for a cabinet. He stopped before he opened it. “In there,” he said. He went to the sink. “I don’t want to get paint on the handle.” He began to wash his hands. “You’ll have to mix it. The pitcher should be on the shelf above.” He laughed as Conn got the stuff out. “You know, when I first saw the front porch, I thought it looked like people should be sitting there drinking lemonade.”
    Conn dragged the bin of sugar over and went to fill the pitcher while John was drying his hands. “Well, Miss Priscilla Jones is about to be.” He gestured to the front with his head. “Get out there. And be nice. And polite.”
    “Who is Miss Priscilla Jones?” John asked as he walked toward the front.
    “Miss Priscilla Jones is Mercury,” Conn answered.
     
    Conn needn’t have worried about John’s manners. Turned out he had a boatload of them. Miss Priss took to him right away, especially when he took Conn to task for not taking him over to meet her. She loved that.
    “I understand that you have a great deal of money,” Miss Priss said. “Ordinarily I would not mention it, as it is in very poor taste to talk about one’s personal finances, but I have been told that you have enough money to make it unnecessary to worry about offending you.”
    John laughed. “It is true that I am rich enough that people don’t have to worry about offending me.”
    “And you earned your fortune on the Internet?” Miss Priss asked curiously. “Do you make computers?”
    “No, ma’am,” John said. It was kind of funny, how he’d picked up that Southernism right away with Miss Priss. She just brought it out in a man. “I created a game for the Internet that a lot of people like to play.”
    Miss Priss seemed disappointed. “I see. I was rather hoping that you might be considering opening some sort of computer manufacturing facility here in Mercury. But I suppose that was not your purpose for moving here.”
    John looked surprised. “No, ma’am. I’m retired, more or less.”
    That made Miss Priss raised both eyebrows in disbelief. “At your young age? What on earth are you planning to do with the rest of your life?” She got a worried look on her face. “You’re not dying, are you?”
    Conn’s chest constricted so hard he fought the urge to grab it. His gaze shot to John, who was watching him. John shook his head. “No, ma’am,” he answered, still watching Conn. “Perfectly healthy. But I’ve made my money already.”
    “You’ve made your money at one thing, Mr. Ford,” she told him disapprovingly. “A man of your abilities and means has a responsibility to turn his interest elsewhere, either industry or philanthropy. To do nothing is a waste of your God-given talents and a disservice to your fellow man.”
    John looked amused. “I had planned to spend the rest of my life working on this house. There is a lot to do.”
    “Do not be flippant, young man,” Miss Priss replied, and John had the grace to blush. “Mr. Michaels has informed me that you have been a generous benefactor of Epson House since your arrival in Mercury. Is it philanthropy that holds your interest now? There are other organizations that would also benefit from your involvement and not just your charitable contributions.”
    John stood up and went to lean against the porch railing. He looked off down the street. “I don’t know, Miss Priscilla. I’m still trying to discover what I want.”
    “You are a lucky man to have the ability to choose what you want,” Miss Priss told him, “and not have the choice made for him.” She turned to Conn suddenly, and he gulped down the Coke he’d been drinking, making him cough.
    “And you, Connor?” she asked. “Now that you are out of prison, what do you plan to do?”
    That little bombshell didn’t help his coughing. John came over and pounded him on the back. “I don’t think he knows either, Miss