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“Morning or afternoon?”
I shrugged. “No preference.”
“Let’s do brunch. Charlotte made some pastries just this morning that would be perfect for it.”
“I’ll leave it in your capable hands.”
She grinned. “Great. I can’t wait.”
I surprised myself when I returned the grin and said, “Me either.”
Chapter 6 - Rose
An array of delicious and decadent aromas floated through the conference room as I set a tray of muffins on the table. Beside them sat a basket of doughnuts. Beside those was a bowl of doughnut holes. Next to those were jelly-filled pastries and flaky biscuits that sat neatly on a porcelain plate along with a giant carafe full of black coffee.
“You feeding an army or a guy?” Charlotte teased while placing cupcakes in front of me. “And really?Cupcakesfor breakfast?”
“See, this is why I go to the diner.”
She snorted. “You go there because you have no taste.”
“I go therebecauseI have a taste.”
“Aunt Rose?” a small voice called from the hallway. Henry wandered inside holding a freshly baked pie. “I’ve been practicing with Mom. Do you want to try a piece?”
I shot Charlotte a triumphant sneer while nodding. “Sure, I’d love to have a slice of pie at 10 o’clock in the morning.”
Charlotte glowered. “Okay, you don’t have to rub it in. I’ve been training him. We don’t always have the best schedule here.”
I sniffed the air. “Smells like it’s going well.”
“It’s apple,” Henry announced proudly while setting the pie down. “I’m working on cherry and then raspberry next.”
“We’re going through a sweets phase,” Charlotte explained in a low voice. A little louder, she stated, “Henry has taken to baking.”
The kid looked like he fit right in here at the inn. It was nice to see him spending so much time with Charlotte. And it was nice to see Charlotte so happy.
My happiness must have registered because Charlotte pushed my shoulder playfully and said, “Stop that.”
“Stopwhat?”
“Looking so da—” She glanced at Henry and then chaffed her arm. “Looking sodarnpleased with yourself.”
I shrugged. “Motherhood looks good on you, Lottie.”
That sharp gaze that could cut just about anyone down in her path softened, losing some of its edge. “Thanks, Rose.”
“Of course.”
“So, when’s your dreamboat arriving?”
I blanched. “He’s not my dreamboat. He’s just—”
“Well, what do we have here?”
The sound of Matéo’s voice ordered me to turn around. He didn’t need to tell me to do anything. My body responded as though the tones alone were enough to prompt my obedience.
And what was worse was that Charlotte noticed.
