Family dinners have become morechaotic, or maybe I’ve finally grown up enough to notice.
Feeding a small army, half of whom think they’re in charge of the preparation, is exhausting. If we didn’t own a bar and restaurant, I don’t know how we’d ever be able to prepare so much food in such a short amount of time.
I’ve already been chased out of the kitchen by Aunt Daphne, and surprisingly, I’m okay with it. When I go to grab a beer, Tate’s sitting at the bar with Ma.
“So…” Tate says, drawing out the word. “How did last night go?”
I glance up at her, knowing she’s talking to me and not our stepmom. “Fine.”
“You stayed with her?” she asks.
“Didn’t feel right leaving her alone in a place she wasn’t familiar with on a side of town she doesn’t know.” I take a sip of the beer, wishing it were a warm night outside instead of the frozen tundra that’s currently blanketing the city.
“She was lovely,” Ma says as she touches the rim of her martini glass. She’s always been a sucker for sweet drinks, and tonight’s no exception. I made her favorite, a chocolate martini with top-shelf liquor.
“Wait.” Tate turns her head to stare at Tilly. “You met her?”
Ma smiles at Tate and nods. “She walked over to get some breakfast this morning, along with two coffees.”
“You didn’t tell me you met her,” Tate says to her.
“Sorry, kiddo. I didn’t think it was important.”
Tate drags her gaze back to me. “Did you sleep with her?”
I shake my head and somehow don’t choke on my beer as I swallow. “I don’t sleep with every woman I meet, Tate.”
Tate snorts. “Since when?”
“I told you. I’m getting serious about my future, and that doesn’t include sleeping with the entire city.”
“You’ve blown through most of them anyway,” Tate replies with a chuckle. “And you can get serious and still have some fun.”
I glance over at Ma, but she’s busy staring down into her drink like she’s searching for something. Shedoesn’t want to hear this conversation as much as I don’t want her to. “I’m turning over a new leaf. I was a complete gentleman.”
“When are you seeing her again?” Tate asks.
“Never.”
Tate gawks at me, blinking a few times. “What? Why?”
“I didn’t get her number.”
Tate hangs her head, muttering how I’m an idiot under her breath. “Why wouldn’t you get her number? You get everyone’s number.”
“I don’t know, Tate.” I blow out a breath and lean over the bar, taking up some of the space between Tate and Ma.
“That’s a shame,” Ma says, using the tiny red straw to stir her martini. “I really liked her.”
“She knows where to find me. If she’s interested, she’ll be back.”
“You really are an idiot,” Tate says as she lifts her beer to her lips, glaring at me over her hand.
“My baby isn’t an idiot,” Gram says, coming up next to me and snaking her arm around my waist. “He’s a fine man.”
“Gram,” Tate says as she shakes her head. “Your fine man has a reputation with the ladies.”
“So did your grandpa when I met him.” Gram gives Tate a big smile.
