Page 88 of Flare


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I set the tray on the table next to our makeshift bar. We don’t have a built-in bar like Brock has in his parents’ guesthouse or like I’m sure every other Steel house possesses. Our bar is a shelf of liquor, a mini fridge, and two high tables.

“What’ll it be, Don?” my dad asks.

“Whatever you’ve got open, Frank.”

“What’s your mixed drink of choice?”

“Margarita, but I don’t expect you to go to all that trouble.”

“Nonsense. It’s no trouble at all.”

My father, though not a drinker himself, enjoys tending bar. He put himself through college doing exactly that.

“Diet Coke for you Callie?” Dad says.

“Hey, if you’re making margaritas, I’ll have one of those as well.”

“Coming right up.” Dad pulls the blender off the shelf.

Then the doorbell.

Brock.

My stomach tumbles. “I’ll get it.”

I walk out of the family room, through the foyer to the door, and open it.

Brock Steel stands there, looking as though he just stepped out of the pages ofGQmagazine. He’s wearing black slacks, black loafers, and a light-gray button-down, two buttons open. His hair is actually combed, and he’s holding a bouquet of yellow roses.

My jaw drops. “For me?”

He smiles. “Actually, they’re for your mother, Rory.”

I can’t help laughing. “Oh my God, she’s going to love you.”

“Were you afraid she wouldn’t?”

“Are you kidding me? You’re a Steel. And you have a Y chromosome. You’re everything she dreamed of for her bisexual daughter.”

Mom comes to the door then, wiping her hands on her apron. “Good evening, Brock.”

“Hello, Mrs. Pike. These are for you.” He hands her the vase of flowers.

“They’re lovely,” Mom gushes. “How did you know I love roses? And yellow ones too.”

“Just a good guess.”

Not really a guess at all. I’m not sure I’ve ever met a woman whodoesn’tlove roses.

Mom hands them to me. “Rory, would you put these on the table? They’ll make a beautiful centerpiece for dinner.”

“They’ll be too tall, Mom. We won’t be able to see each other.”

“Nonsense. They’ll be lovely.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“And Brock,” Mom says, “let me show you to the family room. Frank will get you settled with a cocktail.”

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