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“Of course not, Jonathan.” She frowned at me reproachfully, one hand on her hip. “Honeybridge exists in the twenty-first century, you know. These days, we encourage all attendees to wear whatever they choose as long as it’s family-friendly!” She pursed her lips and leaned in like she was telling me a secret. “Unlike the monstrosity of a dress George Chang wore two years ago. All bust and no bustle if you know what I mean.”
I had no idea what she meant, and I was equally sure I didn’t want to know.
“In any case,” she went on, turning her attention back to her flowers, “we finalized the luncheon menus last weekend, and Rosalia has been working on the tablescape all week. It’s going to be the talk of Honeybridge!”
“Excellent! I’m happy for you.”
“Hmm. You’d know all about the arrangements, of course,” she said primly, “if you’d been home at all this week.”
Oh, lord. Here it was.
“We’ve talked about this. I’ve spent this week attempting to work, which is nearly impossible to do remotely. And it’s worth mentioning that in the past three weeks, I’ve attended both the Honeybridge Diversity Committee’s Quarterly Fundraising Planning Tea and the Friends of the Honeybridge Arts Council’s Preprandial Cocktail and Lemonade Reception, captained a boat for Team Wellbridge in the regatta, and played in two softball games in addition to accompanying you to yogaerobics, which I warned you would be a one-time-only event. That’s more than enough.”
She sniffed. “You haven’t seen your brother.”
“I ate lunch with him once last week and three times the week before.” I folded my arms over my chest.
“And Brantleigh—”
“Is a useless, spoiled child with a terrible attitude. I try to avoid him as much as possible,” I said impatiently. “Why are we rehashing all this when I’ve made it perfectly clear that my priority is—”
“Work. Yes, you’ve made that very clear.” She straightened. “But you’re not too busy with work to spend every night at the Tavern.” I sighed resignedly, and she nodded in triumph like I’d confessed to a terrible secret. “Oh, yes. I’ve heard all about it, beginning practically the moment you arrived! Imagine how I felt having to hear fromPrissy Newtonthat you’ve been spending time with that… that…”
“Careful—” I warned.
“Honeycutt,” she choked out.
Well, damn. So much for trying to keep things quiet to protect Flynn from gossip. Not that we’d tried very hard in the past week. The whole town knew where I ate my lunch every afternoon, and they had to notice the distinct lack of animosity between me and Flynn recently. Alden and Castor had helped us with the bottling most evenings this past week, and Alden had given Flynn eyeballs at least twice over some flirty comment we’d made.
I stared down at my feet for a beat, hoping the crushed seashells would grant me patience. “I understand that you’re upset that I didn’t tell you. But I won’t hear a single negative word about Flynn, Mother. Not one. You know my feelings on the Wellbridge-Honeycutt feud. If we live in an era where anyone in town can dress like the Dowager Countess fromDownton Abbey, then we sure as heck live in an era when I can… spend time with a Honeycutt without you turning it into a Shakespearean tragedy.”
“Hmph.” She lifted her chin. “Even if I had no opposition to you dating one of those Honeycutts, darling, how would you ever make it work? You live in New York, as you remind me endlessly, and Flynn does not. You’re only here for the summer.”
The way she so matter-of-factly hit on the elephant I’d been trying to ignore only served to make me more impatient.
“I’m trying to work a deal between Fortress and Honeybridge Mead that would give Flynn choices—”
Mother frowned. “Nonsense. Flynn rejected Fortress’s generous offer weeks ago.”
The gossip in this town was ridiculous. “Yes. He did. But I—” I clamped my lips together.
She narrowed her eyes. “But you’re still trying to make it work?” Her eyes widened. “Youare. You still want your promotion.”
“That’s not why!” I shut my teeth with aclack. The stupidest thing I could do in this situation was to spill my secret directly to the biggest gossip in Honeybridge, the one person who wouldn’t hesitate to use it to sabotage my relationship with Flynn. “I care about Flynn, okay? I want him to be happy.” I nodded firmly, hoping that would put an end to the conversation.
But my mother was not simply political arm candy. She was the brilliant strategist who’d helped elevate my father from a poor, ambitious unknown attorney into a state senator being considered for governor. And now that she’d gotten this idea in her head, I could practically see the wheels of her brain turning.
“That’s why you met with Hayden Lewis,” she accused. When my mouth fell open in surprise, she waved a hand airily. “Oh, darling. Fabienne Lewis and I are on the library board together. Of course I asked her exactly which properties you and Hayden discussed. I couldn’t imagine why you were looking into commercial property, but now I see. Flynn Honeycutt is making demands.”
“No. He isn’t.” I rolled my eyes heavenward. “Look. Thisneedsto stay between us, Mother. And when I sayus, I do not mean you, me, and the entire Botanical Society. I do not mean you, me, and Aunt Louise. No one, and I mean no one, can know about my meeting with Hayden, especially Flynn. Okay?”
“For heaven’s sake, why? Is it because you’re dating a potential client? Is that…” She lowered her voice and widened her eyes. “…taboo?”
I snorted. “No. At least, I don’t believe so. I don’t think the rest of the world would think so either, but Flynn…” I sighed and reached out a finger to touch a single velvety rose petal. “Flynn would take it the wrong way.” I felt my lips pull up into a wry, affectionate smile. “He usually does.”
My mother blinked, then sat down on a wrought-iron bench and set her shears beside her, still frowning. After a moment, she shook her head. “I don’t understand, Jonathan. I’m trying, but I don’t.”
“Flynn’s not making demands, Mother. I wish he would. But he’s determined to be self-reliant. Everything he has, he’s achieved for himself. Expanding Honeybridge Mead, restoring the Tavern, learning to run a business… even keeping his family together. He’s had no one to help him, except maybe Pop. Still, when I came to him with Fortress’s offer, he rejected it, even though it’s exactly what his business needs. He said he was committed to keeping the manufacturing in Honeybridge. He cares more about his business, his family legacy, than he does about himself. And he cares about this town.”
