If I push her too much, she’ll retreat.
Much like she’s doing now.
As we’re walking out, I hear someone calling my name. “Is that you, Rowan?”
It’s Lottie Brown. The lady’s about eighty years old, but she’s got the energy of a teenager and the wardrobe of a go-go girl. I’m working on her kitchen.
She gets out of her seat, revealing the fuchsia sequin ensemble she’s got on, and sashays over to us to the jiggling soundtrack of the stacks of bracelets on her arms.
I grin. She’s a gossip, but she’s got character.
I bend down to press a kiss to each of her cheeks. “You look lovely, Mrs. Brown.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Lottie?” She swats at my chest, the old flirt. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, darling. I was expecting you yesterday, you know?”
“My apologies. I had to stay at the office. I’ll be there next week.”
“You better.” Her gaze moves to Blake and then drops to our linked hands. “Blake Wolfe! Oh my goodness, are you two here on a date?”
I let go of Blake’s hand to wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her into me. “We are.”
Her eyes widen with delight. “First date?”
“It’s been a few weeks,” Blake says. “I thought Del would have told you.”
“I must have a chat with that girl. I tell her everything, and she holds out on me. Will I see you two at the mayor’s Christmas party next week? I can’t remember if I got your RSVP, Rowan. I told you I’m on the organizing committee this year, right?”
Ah, the mayor’s party. That’s been on my calendar for weeks. The whole town is supposed to show up, and Sandro told me he’ll castrate me if I don’t go. I’m supposed to work the room and get leads for our business.
But what I’m looking forward to most is showing Blake off.
“We’ll be there,” I say.
Blake shoots me a surprised look. “We will?”
I lean down and press a kiss against the crown of her head. “Did I forget to tell you?”
She gives me a tight smile that looks vaguely threatening. “You did.”
She doesn’t sound thrilled about it, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. Her ex will be there, along with his dad and the rest of his family.
But she doesn’t need to worry. Brett won’t bother her while I’m around.
In fact, I can’t fucking wait to parade her on my arm in front of him.
“I’m so thrilled to hear that,” Lottie croons. “Not to toot my own horn, but it’s going to be the event of the year.” She turns to Blake. “Oh, honey, can I ask you for a favor?”
Blake smiles. “Sure, Aunt Lottie. What is it?”
“You know the charity auction we always do as part of the event? Marissa, the woman who owns that Italian place near Kansas City, just dropped out. She had donated a cooking class, but she just lost her sister, so the poor thing had to pull out.”
Blake looks gutted. “That’s terrible.”
Lottie pats her arm. “I know in the previous years you donated a mixology class. Can I convince you to do it again this year?”
Blake stiffens. “Uh. I’m not sure…”
“Well, why not? Surely you can spare a few hours for a good cause?”
