“Where’d your boyfriend go?” I retorted, not bothering to hide the iciness of my tone.
“I sent him home.”
That pulled me up short, taking the edges off some of my irritation. “Why?”
“It wasn’t working out,” she said simply.
I dared a quick look at her, and though she didn’t meet my eyes, a small smile bloomed on her lips despite her arms crossed defensively over her chest.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Get out of the truck, QB.”
With a sigh, I rolled the window back up and did as she asked.
“What’s your problem?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Then why were you hiding out in your truck like a loser?”
I exhaled sharply through my nose, schooling my temper. “Just needed a moment.”
“You done?”
I grinned and nodded. Knowing that TJ had been kicked to the curb had significantly lightened my mood. I playfully bumped her shoulder with mine and followed her back into the garage.
“So, I know your birthday party is the last place you want to talk about work, but maybe Monday we could sit down and figure out a plan for setting up some stills and get some batches of spirits going? If Jay and the team stay on task, they’ll be done in less than a month. I want to get everything perfected so we have plenty on hand for the opening.”
Delia grinned at me. “It’s a date, QB.”
It’s a date. It’s a date. It’s a date.
I hated the way my heart soared at those words.
Later, after the party had wound down and the bulk of her guests were gone, only Delia, Amara, Calvin, and I remained.
“Are you sure you don’t want help cleaning up?” Amara asked as Delia politely but insistently shoved her sister toward the door, Cal not far behind.
“I’ll help her.”
Both sisters stopped dead.
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Delia told me. “Really.”
“Please.”
Delia studied me for a long beat, then shared an unreadable look with her sister. Cal merely quirked a brow at me in question, but I ignored it.
“Fine,” Delia said at last, realizing this was a battle she wouldn’t win.
Then she gave her sister and Cal kisses on the cheek goodbye, and they left us alone.
“Where do we start?”
“Just help me get the perishables into the fridge,” she said, indicating the small white appliance in the corner. “The rest I’ll deal with tomorrow.”
In silence, we covered the snack trays and put caps on any half-full bottles of mixers, carefully stacking it all in the refrigerator. It took far less time than I would’ve liked, and Delia didn’t utter a single word save directing me to do one thing or another.
