I tug at the collar of my shirt, feeling like I’m suffocating under her unrelenting gaze. Thank fuck I didn’t wear a tie. She’d probably choke me with it.
Excitement flickers in my belly. I blink, confused and intrigued all at once.
I shake my head, pushing away the thought. What the fuck was that?
I ignore whatever crap my brain was trying to pull just now and refocus on the fact that Kendall is pissed at me yet again.
“Kendall, I mean it. Do you really think I’d take credit for something I didn’t do?”
She shrugs. “Maybe. You’re the kind of guy who does and says whatever he wants without caring if it hurts people. I wouldn’t put it past you.”
I lean back at her biting words. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She steps closer to me. She’s wearing sky-high heels, which puts her just above my shoulder. She tilts her head up and looks at me.
“You haven’t really changed much since college, have you?”
I frown, wildly confused. “What are you talking about?”
She lets out a bitter-sounding chuckle. “Forget it.”
She walks over to the end of the table and fusses with the flowers before Micah asks her a question. I stand there, nursing my drink, feeling guilty and confused as hell. I have no idea what Kendall was talking about when she made that quip about me in college.
I let out a heavy sigh. I can’t worry about that now.
I plaster on a smile and turn on the charm as I visit with the party guests, all the while Kendall’s comment lingers in the back of my mind.
Chapter 6
Kendall
Iopen the front passenger door of my car, lean inside, and hug my arms around my Auntie Christina.
“You ready, Auntie?”
“I’m ready.”
I brace my legs and pull her out of the seat, then carefully shift her weight against me. Then I pivot to the side and lower her into her wheelchair, which I set up just outside the car door.
I grab her purse, shut the car door, and turn around to face her.
She flashes a sweet smile at me as she holds her purse. “Thank you, anak.”
“Of course.” I move behind her and push her along the sidewalk down the block along the edge of the Gulch neighborhood. “Are you ready to eat some biscuits? This place claims to have the best ones in all of Nashville.”
“Oh, I’m ready. I didn’t eat carbs all day yesterday in preparation for today. My stomach is well prepared for some starch.”
I laugh. We get to the end of the block. I stop at the front of Biscuit Haven, a new brunch spot in a trendy part of the city.
I go to open the door, but a family walks out at the same time and holds the door for me. We tell them thank you and head inside. I stop at the podium where the young hostess is talking to a couple in front of us and stand next to Auntie’s wheelchair so people don’t bump into her as they walk through the restaurant. I glance down to check on her.
She gazes around the crowded space. “Wow. So busy.”
“I know. Good thing we made a reservation.”
It’s a Sunday just before noon, so I knew this place would be packed. It’s a hip new restaurant in one of the trendiest parts of Nashville.
Auntie looks up at me. “It smells so good in here. Like fresh baked goods and sugar.”
