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“Oversight,” I muttered from six feet away.

At his revered place in the marketing cluster, a small smile lit Xavier’s face. I hadn’t meant him to hear, but his support touched me. Something near my heart melted the slightest bit despite his iffy behavior the other night.

My mom called at lunch on Friday afternoon while I savored the yogurt parfait Maribel made me.

“How you settlin’ in, sweetie?” she asked.

“Fine,” I said instead of disclosing the truth. “You got a shift tonight?”

The open kitchenette in the center of the office boasted island bar-top seating and a counter full of snacks. I selected a granola bar from the pile, but avoided the communal coffee, which left something to be desired.

“Yep,” Mama said. “Dinner to close.”

I yawned, and even though I muted the phone while I did it, she still knew.

“You tired, baby?”

“Mmhmm. I’d kill for a caramel macchiato right now. I miss good coffee.”

She tutted. “I’ll get you a little caramel sauce from the diner to keep at your desk.”

I laughed around a mouthful of granola. “Thanks, Mama.”

A beat of silence. “Alright,” she said at last, her tone deceptively casual. “I just wanted to catch you before I go in.”

Suspicious, I glanced at my phone. She wanted to catch me before she went in? No, Audra Honeycutt didn’t call unless she had a reason. “What is it, Mom?”

Another beat. “Ravi came into the diner last night.”

“Oh, did he?”

One last silence stretched before the storm began. “Now, listen here. You don’t let them boys at the office browbeat you into dates, you hear me? If he’s got a nice face, and you find yourself lookin’ twice, well, that’s one thing, but ain’t nobody pressures my baby into a date she don’t wanna be on.”

“That’s not exactly— I think Ravi might have embellished the truth a bit.”

Mom’s tone went full Southern queen. “Ravi’s got a good head on his shoulders and a pair of talented hands to boot. You shoulda snapped him up a decade ago, but you got wandering eyes. Don’t think your mama don’t know what you’re about, Shay Honeycutt. Don’t shit where you eat.”

Aware of my coworkers well within earshot, I merely took a breath and said in a neutral tone, “I know, Mama.”

I could practically hear her deflate. “Alright, then.” She kissed into the receiver. “Make me proud, baby.”

Ravi the tattletale would have to listen to my opinions on this development tonight, and I doubted he’d like them, but seriously. He told my mother?

As I threw my trash away, a hair-raising presence emerged behind me. Goosebumps erupted over my arms, and I turned to find an older gentleman in a fine gray suit with peppered sandy hair and silver eyes. He had lines on his face that hadn’t yet formed on his son’s, but the resemblance was remarkable.

Camden Shepherd, Sr.

Shep.

I tried to smile. “Oh, h-hello.”

Thick brows drew together. “Shay Honeycutt?”

“Yes, hello, Mr. Shepherd. It’s…nice to see you again.”

It wasn’t nice. My stomach attempted to turn itself inside out. I shouldn’t have eaten so much yogurt.

He looked around, searching. “What are you doing in my distillery?”