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I saluted. “I want those scalloped potatoes with the Gruyère.”
“Not that you’re demanding or anything.” Baker flashed a sugary smile in my direction.
“Did I upset you by not greeting you first?” I rounded the table and made a show of kissing her cheek. “The last lady, but definitely not least.”
She gave me the side eye, but the corner of her mouth tugged upward.
Holt put a protective arm around his girl’s shoulders. “Find your own woman.”
“I could use some pointers on finding a roommate like you did.” I winked, a dreadful habit I’d picked up from those Dixon men.
The back of my neck tingled.
I straightened.
Baker’s eyes cut around me, and Holt smirked.
“Why are you here?” That icy voice sent a bolt of irritation straight to my dick.
I turned. The reception didn’t get any warmer. I fashioned a fake smile on my face. “Well, hello, Wicked. I see you’ve decided to take your broom out for a spin to the city.”
“It was too much to hope one of your lovely clients had made you disappear.”
Trish gasped behind me. Marlow moved to her chair and sat as if she’d said nothing wrong. The only open seat was beside her.
“I see you’ve been spending more time with your mother.”
The server brought a bottle of champagne and appetizers.
I leaned over to her ear. “You want to take a shot, aim them at me. Not innocent people,” I hissed, flicking my gaze over to Trish.
She went rigid. Remorse didn’t even register on her face. “Itwasaimed at you.”
“Don’t inflict your misery on your family.”
Trish passed both of us a glass of bubbles.
Once everyone had a flute, Holt lifted his. “Baker has something she wants to tell you.”
She flushed as Holt kissed the side of her head. “We’re getting married.”
“Are you stupid?” Glasses halted mid-lift to mouth. “They don’t even know each other,” Marlow said, draining her champagne.
“I suppose Trish and I don’t either?” Andrew looked ready to spit nails.
“No. But you’ve already made the mistake.” She snorted. “Dad and I know all about the perils of marriage.”
Mr. Dixon paled.
Mrs. Quinn touched his thigh in support. “I’m familiar with them as well. That doesn’t mean all of them go wrong.”
“Mine died.” Marlow reached for the champagne and refilled her glass.
“As did mine.”
She jerked her gaze to Mrs. Quinn. Of course the wicked one thought she was the only person to have loved and lost.
Marlow unrolled her silverware. “Stop looking at me like that. What’s wrong with me watching out for my little brothers?”
