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“They wanted to make it special.”
I gave her a pointed look and Lily rolled her eyes. “Let them have this.” She squeezed my hand. “They’re proud of you, Peyton.”
I very much doubted that, but I wasn’t looking to start an argument.
Not tonight. Not when things were finally calmer between all of us.
“Here she is,” Jason stood, smoothing down his fitted black shirt.
“This is… thank you.” No expense had been spared with table décor and bottles of champagne sitting in ice buckets littered on the table.
We sat down just as a server appeared and handed out leather-bound menus. “I’ll give you some time to decide and come back shortly. If you need anything, just call.”
“Thanks, Harriet.” Felicity gave her a warm smile, and I glanced at her in question. “She volunteers at the rescue center a couple hours a week.”
“How does it feel then, Peyton, to be finally free of high school?” Mr. Bennet asked me, much to his wife’s annoyance. She nudged his arm, offering me an apologetic smile.
“It feels… really good. I’m just excited to be earning money and to look to the future.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” he said, lifting his glass. “To Peyton.”
“Peyton.” My name rang out in the small room and I flushed.
“Way to steal my speech,” Jason protested.
“You can save yours for after dinner.”
“You look beautiful,” Bryan whispered around a teasing grin, before giving me a super squeezy hug.
“Hands off, Hughes.”
“Yeah, yeah, Myers. Get a few glasses of bubbly inside you and you won’t be able to resist the Brymeister.” His brows waggled, and I burst into laughter.
“Oh my God, don’t ever call yourself that again.” Noticing the empty chair, I said to Kaiden, “Is your mom joining us after all?”
“No, she couldn’t make it. But she sent a card.” He pushed the envelope across the table to me.
“She didn’t need to do that.”
“It’s from both of us.”
“Thank you.”
“What looks good?” Bryan nudged my shoulder, but I was too busy watching Jason watch the entrance to the private room like a hawk.
“Myers.”
“What, sorry?” I glanced up at Bryan, and he chuckled.
“You’re jumpy.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just… it doesn’t matter.” The corner of my mouth tipped as I opened my menu. “Let’s see what looks good.”
* * *
Dinner was amazing,but I was so stuffed, gorging myself on chicken parmigiana, that when they wheeled in the dessert trolley, I had to pass.
“Lightweight,” Bryan teased, and I pinched his hand.
