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Dexie nods.
“My grandson tells me you’re here to talk business.” Marti motions to the chair she was just sitting in. “You’ll sit and talk. I’ll bring you wine and dessert.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Dexie says quietly. “A glass of water would be just fine.”
“Water, wine and dessert.” Marti tugs on a pink-streaked strand of Dexie’s hair. “I like this. I thought about it, you know, at one time.”
Dexie’s face brightens. “You thought about pink hair?”
“Blue.” Marti touches the front of her hair. “A streak or two, but what great-grandmother parades around looking like a peacock?”
“You’d pull it off,” I interject. “Do it, Marti.”
“You do it,” she bounces the words back to me with a wink. “Don’t color your hair blue, but take a chance. You know what I mean.”
I don’t have to read between those lines. She likes Dexie.
“Dessert, Marti,” I urge her on. “We’re going to talk business.
You’ll make that special dessert.”
“I’ll be back.” Picking up my empty plate, she shakes her head. “There’s more to life than business, Rocco. Don’t you forget.”
Dexie watches her walk away before she lowers herself onto the chair. “Your grandma is amazing.”
I take the seat next to her. “I know it.”
She pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear. She looks stunning tonight, dressed in a simple lacy black dress and yellow heels. The neckline of the dress dips low enough to reveal a small mole below her left collarbone.
“Are you looking for something premade for Marti or a custom piece?” She fishes in her red handbag. “I’ll show you my available inventory. I have pictures of almost everything on my phone.”
“You met with Rhoda.”
Her hand slows. “I was with her when you texted me.”
I assumed as much, which is why I was surprised when she answered my text quickly, agreeing to meet me tonight.
I told her I was here, at Calvetti’s.
Before I could type out the address, she replied that she was on her way over.
“How did that go?”
She rolls her eyes. “The hot bartender got more of her attention than I did.”
“Hot bartender?” A smile creeps over my lips.
Her gaze lifts to meet mine. “I have a feeling Rhoda chose that bar for our meeting because of him.”
“Would you go back for another drink because of him?”
It’s a question an insecure college kid would ask his girlfriend, so why the fuck is it coming out of my mouth?
“I might.” Her eyes gleam. “There’s something about nerdy, muscular types.”
“Is there?” I lift both arms over my head, flexing my biceps. “Have I mentioned to you that I graduated summa cum laude?”
Her gaze skims my black T-shirt before her eyes land on my right arm. “You graduated with honors?”
