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She looks past me toward the entrance of the restaurant. “Is Daniel coming?”
I wish, but I keep that thought to myself. “He had to meet a client.”
“Just like your brother.” She shakes her head. “Work, work, and more work.”
“Like you,” I point out. “Do you need help?”
She glances around the restaurant. “Tonight, we’re good. You’ll eat. I made it myself.”
I’ll never tire of hearing those words.
“I’ll pack up some for Daniel.” She tilts her chin down. “Is he nice to live with? Are you two having fun?”
The way her eyebrows are bouncing up and down is distracting and a little embarrassing.
“Grandma.”
“What?” She holds both her hands out in front of her. “A grandma can’t hope that her granddaughter is having fun with a handsome man?”
“I’m hungry,” I remind her.
She moves a step forward to pat my shoulder. “I promise you can’t do better than him, Gina. If he likes you like that, give him a chance.”
“If he likes me like that?” I laugh. “I’m not a teenager anymore. I’m an adult now.”
“A very beautiful one.” She slides my hair back over my shoulder. “That’s a nice dress.”
I glance down at the denim dress I’m wearing. “I bought it a long time ago.”
“You were nineteen,” she says. “You bought it the day before your mama’s birthday that year. You wore it to the party, and guess what?”
Stunned that she remembers that, I stare at her. “What?”
“Daniel was at the party, and he liked that dress, too. I saw him looking at you again and again.” She lets out a giggle. “He danced that night. He lost his shoe. I’ll never forget that.”
I won’t either.
“I’ll get the spaghetti and meatballs.” She takes one last look at me. “Four meatballs. I don’t want you to leave here hungry.”
I bow my head to hide my smile. “Thanks, Grandma.”
She kisses my cheek. “I love you, my Gina.”
“I love you, too.”
CHAPTERFORTY
Daniel
“You’ve been smilingsince you got here,” Everest points out from across the table. “I haven’t agreed to your terms yet, Daniel, so don’t get ahead of yourself.”
Circling my index finger in front of my face, my smile broadens. “This is a personal smile. It’s not related to business at all.”
He leans back in his chair, eyeing the second glass of expensive scotch just delivered to our table. We’re at Nova, one of the best restaurants in Manhattan.
Some people would think I’m lucky for landing a dinner reservation at the last minute, but the owner and executive chef is a client of mine. It’s a perk that I’ve taken advantage of a few times.
“It’s a woman,” he deduces. “That’s what I’m looking at. A man who is crazy about a woman.”
