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“That’s Elowen Truscott,” Marti fills in the blank for me. “I think she likes Daniel.”
“You think?” I mutter sarcastically.
“Where’s the doctor?”
I tear my gaze away from my husband and the woman he met in a pool in Las Vegas and focus on my grandma for a split second. “What doctor?”
“Dr. Morgan.” She pushes her shoulders back. “He’s a heart doctor, Gina. You know what that means.”
I shake my head, stealing yet another glance at Daniel and Elowen. “He fixes broken hearts?”
Marti laughs. “It means he’s good husband material.”
“What?” I let out an awkward chuckle. “What are you talking about? Did Daniel come here with her?”
“Why?”
Frustrated, I turn to face my grandma. “Why what?”
“I asked a simple question.” She smiles. “Do you know the answer to it?”
Completely lost, I shake my head. “I’m confused.”
Her hands circle my left hand. “You’re not, my Gina. You like the doctor or Daniel. You can’t like both.”
I take a breath. “Grandma.”
“Yes?” Her eyebrows perk. “Answer my question. Do you like Dr. Morgan or Daniel?”
“I’d love to know the answer to that,” Daniel’s deep voice hits me before I realize he’s less than a foot from me.
Marti giggles. “If you ask me, you’re the one she likes.”
“Grandma!” My hand jumps to my lips to hide my smile. “I came here for dinner, not for any of this.”
She edges closer to me before darting up to her tiptoes to whisper in my ear. “Liking him is okay.”
I kiss her cheek. “I’m hungry.”
“I know.” She tosses both hands up in the air. “I’ll get some food.”
“Minestrone?” I ask hopefully.
“Carbonara for you tonight,” Daniel says before Marti can answer. “She made it herself.”
Laughing, Marti nods as she wanders off toward the kitchen.
“I know you saw me when you walked in,” Daniel whispers as soon as my grandma is out of view. “Who knew that jealousy would look this good on you, Lawton?”
“I’m not jealous,” I say, scoping out the restaurant for Elowen.
“She’s at table nine with her grandfather,” Daniel tells me, never tearing his gaze from my face. “I was serving them.”
“You what?”
“I’m helping Marti out tonight.” He pushes on one of his rolled up shirtsleeves. “When a Calvetti needs a hand, we all pitch in, right?”
“Right,” I repeat, touched that he stepped up to help my grandma.
