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I opened my mouth to protest, but he’d already hobbled across the garage to where Jamie was standing and had taken her hand.
“Edwin Ryne,” he introduced him, kissing the back of her hand. She blushed. “This uncouth little bastard’s grandfather. And you must be the young lady who’s got his balls in a twist.”
“I’m not listening to this.” I got up and walked away, into the staff area. Why couldn’t I have a nice, normal grandfather who was sweet and kind? No wonder I was an asshole. It ran in the damn family.
“That’s me,” Jamie said, far too happily. “Jamie Bell. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
She was so fucking polite. To everyone but me.
“Bell? You wouldn’t happen to be related to Simon Bell, would you?”
“Yes, sir. That’s my father.”
“Would it be remiss of me to welcome you back?”
Jamie laughed softly. “Thank you. It’s a little strange.”
“No thanks to my grandson, I’d assume.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me!” I shouted.
“Nothing right, either!” Pops hollered back. “What are you hiding for? Get your ass out here. And bring me a coffee while you’re at it.”
I rubbed my forehead which quickly moved into me pinching my nose. I took his ornery manner at home—did I have to take this shit at work now, too?
I made the damn coffee and rejoined them. “I was putting my glass in the sink,” I replied, ignoring Jamie’s smile. “What’s up, Pops?”
He rested his mug on his stick. “What are you doing?”
I told him the same story I’d just told Jamie.
He peered over. “That it? Got nothing for Jamie to do?”
“I’m his assistant,” she said dryly. “Which translates to getting him water when he fails to specify what drink he wants.”
Pops chuckled. “I like her.”
“That’s a theme in this family,” I muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Why don’t you let Jamie do that?” Pops waved at the car.
Oh, Jesus.
“Because I was here first and got started.”
“She can finish it.”
“Pops…”
“She’s got nothing to do.”
“I’m sure the phone will ring soon,” she said chirpily. “And if it doesn’t, he’s paying me to basically do nothing, so the joke is on him.”
I fucking hated it when she turned shit around so I lost.
“Shit,” I whispered.
Jamie grinned, licked her finger, and painted a line in the air like she had the last time she’d outsmarted me.
Two-nil to her.
Three if you counted the tacos, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of that.
Another chuckle escaped Pops. “I really like her.”
I pinched my nose again. “Pops. Are you here for a reason other than to embarrass me a little?”
“I embarrass you, huh?” He waggled his gray eyebrows.
“Pops.”
He sniffed, sipped his coffee, and said, “It’s your aunt’s birthday this weekend.”
“I’m aware,” I said, leaning against the worktop side. “She’s left notes on the bathroom mirror every day for the last two weeks with present ideas. This morning, she requested a Ferrari. She can’t even drive anymore.”
“Yes… She’s working hard on that. She asked Roxanne for a hoverboard this morning.” Pops paused. “I think she’s taking the piss.”
“You think?” I said dryly.
“She told me to ensure you both have a date.”
I stilled. Nope. That was not happening. I didn’t know anyone here well enough except for—
No, fucking hell, no.
Jamie did not need to meet Greta. That would complete my circle of shame, because there’s no doubt they’d get on like a house on fire.
And I didn’t need any of my interactions with Jamie described as a fucking date.
Hell, torture, self-loathing—they worked.
A date?
Fuck no.
“I don’t know anyone well enough,” I half-lied. “Tell her she’ll have to wait until next year.”
“You said that last year,” Pops pointed out.
“Then we moved.”
“Greta won’t care.”
“I don’t care,” I said, shaking my head. “Not happening.”
Jamie scooted past behind him, carrying her empty mug.
“Jamie! What are you doing this weekend?”
She froze.
“Pops. Don’t even think about it!”
“Is your name Jamie, boy? I think not. Jamie?” Pops said, turning to her. “Do you have plans this Saturday?”
“I, er, um.” She slowly turned, her eyes wide. “I don’t—I’m not sure.”
Pops brightened. “Would you like some?”
“Oh fuckin’ hell.” I lifted the hem of my t-shirt and covered my face with it.
“I don’t—uh…”
“Excellent! Dex will pick you up at seven o’clock on Saturday evening. My sister will love you.”
“I, er…”
Oh, fucking hell. Fuck, fuck, fucking hell.
This day had started out so well.
“I’ll see you for dinner, Dex.” Pops hobbled out of the garage. “See you on Saturday, Jamie!”
“Uh…”
When the clicking of his stick had disappeared, I dropped my t-shirt and looked around the garage. Pops had disappeared.
Jamie, however, hadn’t. She hadn’t even moved. She was still standing in the exact place she had been when Pops had corralled her into coming to the party, but now, she was staring after him with her eyes wide and her lips parted.
Sensing my eyes on her, she turned to face me. “What—what just happened?”
