“Where’s Jitter?”
“Mom came and got him. Too many people tonight.”
“First timer has started,” Iris calls. “You have three minutes.”
I glance around the room and spot my other two cousins.
Jack was apparently a slowpoke. He has a look of these three minutes might kill me on his face as he leans back and Addison Hunter leans forward, drawing something on the table with her finger.
Probably explaining to him that since she’s in finance and he’s an engineer, they’d make smart, competent, beautiful children.
“Ew,” Decker mutters.
Lucky, on the other hand, is on the opposite side of the room, actively engaged in an animated conversation with Viola Hammerbach. She’s twenty-five years older than he is.
And she was his kindergarten teacher.
“Are they catching up, or is he flirting with her?” I ask Decker.
“I asked him yesterday who his favorite teacher of all time was, and he named her, so it’s anyone’s guess. Shame about her husband. Good for her for getting back out there though.”
I look back to where Grandpa was headed to sit along the wall.
Not there.
Grey’s noticed too.
He’s two tables down, apparently pulled in to make numbers even, which I’m attempting to actively ignore. And speaking of ignoring, he’s completely ignoring whatever Kayla is saying to him at their table.
“So who is she?” Decker asks.
“Oh my god, did you sit with me because you want to hit on an old lady and think I’ll just give up the scoop? I’m off gossip, remember.”
He cracks up.
Fair.
I was totally giving him shit. “I hear she’s Mr. Cartwright’s grandmother,” I murmur.
“You hear?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“With what degree of certainty?”
“Given what we all know about genetics…”
“She was in his life as his grandmother, correct?” Decker clarifies.
“Correct.”
“And you’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“As in, she was the woman in that picture in Grandpa’s yearbook that I found?”
“Mm. I assume so.”
“Why’s she here?”
“She got on a plane and flew here from wherever she’s from?”
“Sabrina.”
“Time!” Iris calls. “Everyone move. No, this way. Lucky. Other way. There you go. Mrs. Hammerbach has you all flustered, doesn’t she? Talk as soon as you sit. We’re not giving time for moving tables from here on out.”
“Did you do that?” Decker asks while he rises.
“Introduce Lucky to his kindergarten teacher? No. Also no to setting the rules for tonight.”
“We’re talking later about why Grandpa disappeared after making I’m seeing a ghost eyes at the new old hottie in town and why you didn’t tell me you called her. Don’t deny it. I know you did.”
“Get moving, Decker, or people will think you’re asking for my phone number.”
He makes a face and dives for the table in the next row, settling in across from Devi.
Walter Blunderman, whom I’ve known since he used to yell at Laney, Emma, and me anytime we got too loud in our treehouse, since his property bumped up against Grandma and Grandpa’s yard, eases his way into the seat Decker’s just abandoned.
Grey is taking the seat at the table beside me.
Dammit. I was hoping they’d move the other way.
“Hi, Mr. Blunderman,” I say with fake cheer. “Bad arthritis night?”
“Getting better. That herbal tea Fiona whipped up for me made it a lot worse, so I’m doing better since I’m off it. You still know too much about everybody and their brother?”
“Nope. I’m off gossip.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
I fake gasp. “Mr. Blunderman. Are you taking up my previous occupation? I love it. Tell me what else you’ve heard.”
“Nope. You’re off gossip. Bones might be creaky, but my ears still work.”
I miss half of what he says.
Not because I don’t want to listen to him, but because every time Grey says something to Isabella next to me, his voice rumbles in my ears over everything else.
Get a grip, Sabrina.
You don’t do this.
Men are dicks. They don’t make ’em like Grandpa Harry anymore. Look at what Laney’s father did. Look what your own father did. Look at what Chandler did. Even Theo’s a dick, but at least he’s a known dick, and he knows I’ll cut off his dick if he pulls a dick move on Laney now.
I’m not a man-hater.
I’m just so fucking wary after everything I’ve seen over the years. The couples who make it, who truly adore and respect and accept each other every day of their lives? They’re so rare.
I’d rather be alone with my dog and tight with my besties.
And when they have kids, I’ll be the best damn Aunt Sabrina to ever exist.
They are my family.
And three minutes goes by entirely too fast while I’m desperately trying to convince myself that I’m still anti-relationship and that I don’t want anything to do with this wounded, vulnerable, sometimes dorky, always hot man at the next table.
My stomach tightens. My pulse flutters. My fingers tense. And all too soon, I’m wishing Mr. Blunderman a great time tonight while he pushes out of his chair and heads to the next row.
Grey drops into the seat and hits me with a glare that tells me every last second of the next three minutes will feel like an eternity.
It’s time to face the music.
29
Grey
Sabrina Sullivan has fucking audacity.
She has the nerve to smile at me as I take the seat across from her at this horrific singles mixer, which is the last place on earth I want to be right now. But Zen and Mimi conspired against me, and now here I am.
And with fucking Chandler Sullivan sitting just a few tables down too, thinking he has the upper hand again because I didn’t fight against his pricktastic attitude last week.
“Grey! Long time no see.” Sabrina flips a plastic cup off the stack in front of her, fills it with water from the carafe that’s been placed on every table, and pushes it to me. “Drink. You look dehydrated. How’s your grandmother liking town?”
“You fucking called my grandmother,” I hiss.
She lifts both brows, copper like her hair, which is curlier tonight. A single strand has fallen out and lays across her breast, a wave catching the light every time she moves and making me want to go complete caveman, shoving across this table and kissing her until she apologizes.
“I know everyone’s grandmother in town,” she says. “Or I did, if they’re not still with us. I just wanted her to know how much the community appreciates that you saved my family from having all of our credit ruined for overdue taxes, no matter what you do next with the building.”
I don’t know what makes me more furious.
That she did it, or that she’s pretending she did it for any reason other than to tattle on a grown fucking man to his grandmother.
When she said she was playing dirty, I didn’t expect her to go this dirty.
Add in that it feels so damn good to have Mimi here that I want to kiss her again to thank her, and I’m a mess.
A complete disaster of complicated feelings.
“Leave. My grandmother. Out of this,” I manage to force out.
She holds up both hands. “Sure. I won’t talk to her anymore. But I make zero promises if she asks me a direct question. Manners and all that.”
I start to feel the lightheadedness take hold, and I remind myself to breathe.
My vision blurs in the corners, but I can still see her taking a sip of her water while she watches me like she knows what she’s doing to my blood pressure.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Water.
Fucking dammit. She was right about the water.
I sip. I breathe. My vision clears.
Are people watching?
Is fucking Chandler watching?
Christ. Fuck. He probably heard. He probably heard what everyone else heard.
Grey Cartwright was so overcome at the sight of his grandmother that he fainted dead away.
Motherfucking fucker, this is not how any of this is supposed to go.
“Leave my grandmother alone,” I repeat to Sabrina, calmer.