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Carmen sighed. “I’m always behind an apron, anyway, so I guess it doesn’t really matter.”
“You always look cute,” Stephanie said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Carmen chewed her lip. “I don’t want to look cute. Cute is for kittens and little sisters. I want to look sophisticated and sexy so that—” She stopped abruptly, and a flush spread over her cheeks.
“So that what?” I downed the last of my wine.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” She eyed my empty glass. “I’m not usually a day drinker, but is there more wine?”
I wished I knew Carmen better so I could prod her to finish her sentence. If Lyra had been there, Carmen would have gotten the third degree.
Stephanie walked over to the pantry and returned with a bottle in each hand. “Day drinking is the best kind of drinking.”
I wasn’t normally a day drinker, either, but I had nothing better to do. My presentation for the business commission meeting was complete, and I had all my talking points ironed out. I just needed Bennett to actually schedule the damn thing.
I could continue to seek out the members one by one as I’d previously been doing, but that felt like going behind Bennett’s back when he’d promised to set up the meeting. I was conflicted. I never should have given in to my feelings for him—mixing business with pleasure was almost always a bad idea.
Butmixingwasn’t exactly the issue. Bennett and I had avoided everything business, and that was the real problem. I was shirking my responsibilities, and that didn’t sit well with me.
I held out my glass so Stephanie could refill it. Twenty-four hours. I’d give him another twenty-four hours, and then I’d go back to my original plan. I couldn’t afford to wait any longer.
The universe must have sent Bennett a message that I was thinking about him because my phone chimed with a text.
BENNETT: Do you want to do something totally lame?
ME: When you put it that way, how can I refuse?
BENNETT: Paul is bored out of his mind and driving my mom crazy, so I told her I’d come by and keep him company. You want in?
ME: That’s not lame.
BENNETT: Asking a woman to hang out with my parents is pretty lame.
I chuckled. I could see how it might be lame under other circumstances—like, if he still lived in his parents’ basement or something—but I appreciated how devoted the Ramsey-Croft family members were to one another. Besides that, they were a fun bunch.
ME: When?
BENNETT: I’ll pick you up in an hour.
I wondered if perhaps I should stop with the wine. ThenI shrugged and picked up my glass. No sense wasting what Stephanie had already poured. I looked up from my glass to find both my sister and Carmen grinning at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Intense texting conversation?” Stephanie asked.
“Not really.” I hid my face in my glass.
“Uh-huh. I’m right here, and I know you’re not texting Phil with that expression on your face, so that only leaves one option.”
Damn.I couldn’t even protest, because once I’d left New York, my casual friendships ended. The sad part was that I didn’t even miss any of those women. I was enjoying myself more in this kitchen with Carmen and Stephanie than I ever had sipping overpriced martinis in upscale city bars.
Carmen’s mouth quirked into a half grin. “Do I need to ask what your intentions are with my brother?”
My fingers tightened around the stem of my wineglass. “It’s not like that.” I subtly checked the time on my phone.
“What time is he picking you up?” Stephanie asked.
“In an… who says he’s picking me up?”
