“That will work, especially if you leave our server a really big tip to apologize for the fact that we’re not staying for entrées and dessert.”
“Deal.”
After they'd placed their orders—a Caesar salad for Gemma, minestrone soup for Jude—she excused herself and went to find shelter in the women’s restroom. She took the longest possible amount of time washing her hands, lotioning them, freshening her makeup, and giving herself a pep talk along the lines of,Go out there, be a professional, and stop feeling so contrary.
Returning to their table, she gave Jude a fake-affectionate gaze, which he fake-affectionately returned. He'd clearly tried to tidy his hair while she was away. But she'd made such a spectacle of it that his attempts hadn't fully succeeded. It was slightly mussed, and the joke was on her because it looked irresistible that way.
“Gemma!” A woman’s voice.
Oh no.
Gemma knew that voice well.
Her face jerked up in time to see Grandma Colette finish descending the stairs, followed by Gemma’s three brothers, her mother, Grandpa Stevie, and Great-Grandma Gracie.
ChapterThirteen
At the close of Ronan's award ceremony, Gemma had purposely stayed for her family'sWhere should we go for dinner?conversation. She hadn't left to meet Jude until they'd definitively decided on the Gastro Pub and moved on to other topics.
Sowhy? WHYwere they here?
Colette, with her puff of tangerine hair and poker player's observant eyes, set her hands on ample hips and addressed Gemma. “You said you couldn't join us for dinner because you had to catch up on some orders for Perfumes by Gemma Clare.”
The others congregated around her, their ringleader. Everyone stared avidly at Gemma then Jude, Jude then Gemma.
“And you said,” Gemma returned, “that you were going to eat at the Gastro Pub.”
“We went to the pub, but the Corvette Club of Maine was having a social night there. The place was packed. So we came here. Why areyouhere?”
“Because of me,” Jude said. Pressing to his feet, he smiled at her family. “She called to say she was on her way to the shop, and I convinced her to eat with me instead.”
“And you are?” Colette asked.
“Jude McConnell, Gemma's boyfriend.” Her family members were related to Cedric. So, to them, Jude must be Jude McConnell.
“Gemma's boyfriend!” Colette crowed.
“Yes.” He gave handshakes to them one by one as they provided their names.
Gemma wholeheartedly wished she could bolt out of here screaming. She'd not battled guilt over lying to Cedric about who Jude was to her. The end definitely seemed to justify the means in that situation. But lying to her closest family members about Jude? She hadn't planned to do so and didn't want to do so.
“Jude,” Mom said. “What a wonderful name. That rings a bell with me, for some reason.”
“It's a book of the Bible,” Gracie announced.
“Gemma is tight-lipped about her boyfriends,” Mom continued in an apologetic tone to Jude. She rested a hand on her chest and peered at him like a Swiftie at Taylor Swift. “I don't know why. We're always very supportive.”
“I'm tight-lipped about my boyfriends because you people are like the Spanish Inquisition.” No one was paying attention to her.
Colette ordered the others to push Gemma and Jude's table against the bigger, empty one next to it. They'd been coming here so long that no one thought twice about rearranging furniture without permission.
Next thing she knew, Jude was seated at the head of the table, her mother and grandmother on either side of him. Then came Stevie and Gracie. She and her brothers were relegated to the far end, Gemma facing Jude down the long rectangle.
“Jude! Tell us about yourself,” Colette ordered.
Jude went into a recitation of his curated background.
“He's a step up from your usual caliber of boyfriend,” Hugo whispered.
