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“Don’t keep Con waiting. I’m footing the bill, remember?”
She laughs. “You’re politely trying to tell me to mind my own business.”
“Since when am I polite?” I lean against the edge of my desk.
“Good point.” She tugs on the ends of her scarf. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Bright and early, Blythe.”
Chapter 18
Linny
I reread the cryptic text message that my dad sent me an hour ago.
Dad: Be at Calvetti’s at noon. Urgent.
I didn’t notice the message until ten minutes ago since I spent the morning at Whispers of Grace with Ivy working on the upcoming promo campaign.
We were supposed to do that last night, but when she came back to her store empty-handed and in a panic about her daughter, Jacey, having a fever, she rushed back out with Jax on her heel.
I checked in with them before I went to bed and everything was fine. Jacey was fast asleep and fever free.
That’s when Ivy asked if I could swing by the store first thing this morning to finalize which images to use for the promo.
I showed up with two coffees in hand and a box of pastries.
After setting the ringer on my phone to silent, we got to work. We settled on a handful of photographs that I’ll send to our graphic designer so she can work her magic and create a series of online ads.
I’m ordering a revamp of the Whispers of Grace website too since I landed Ivy a spot on a national morning show where she’ll show off her newest designs.
As I exit the subway, I glance down at my phone’s screen again.
There’s nothing.
My dad hasn’t responded to my text. I asked him why he arranged the sudden lunch date at his favorite Italian restaurant.
The last time this happened, he asked me to meet him so he could tell me that he was planning on proposing to Diane.
He wanted my blessing. I tearfully gave it to him without question, thrilled that he’d found love again.
My parents divorced when I was ten years old, but they made the transition as easy as they could for my sister and me. If they ever argued it wasn’t within earshot of Bethy or me.
They wanted the best for each other. My dad found that in Diane. My mom is still searching. Her quest landed her in Bora Bora six months ago and in the arms of a man a decade younger than her who is teaching her everything he knows about scuba diving and love.
She’s happy. I can’t ask for more than that.
I round the corner and spot the familiar red and white checkered awning of Calvetti’s halfway down the block.
I’m not dressed for racing around Manhattan.
I put on a simple black sheath dress this morning and paired that with red stilettos. Since I only got twenty minutes of sleep last night, I didn’t attempt to shove my contact lenses into my bloodshot eyes.
I’m wearing the same eyeglasses I was yesterday and my hair is loose and wavy. I should have grabbed the blow dryer and straightener after my shower this morning, but I spent too much time online researching everything I could find out about Jeremy Weston.
I didn’t make it past the images.
Thinking about him kept me up most of the night, and seeing dozens of pictures of him at different galas and benefits made me ache to be back in that hotel room with him.
