“Yeah, he’s a slave driver.” Olivia’s gaze melted over him, and for a fraction of a second, her guard slipped. There was something more there. Then she blinked and smiled. “He’s also my best friend, and I’d do anything for him, even if it means putting up with his obnoxious friends and eating horrible food. And the hours suck.”
Jo’s heart constricted. Foolish girl. She was yet another reminder not to break the rules again or let herself become too invested in this charade. She wasn’t Cinderella, and Avery wasn’t her happily-ever-after prince. He was the Big Bad.
Something told her every man at this table was just like him.
“Let’s go,” Avery said at her side.
“It was really nice to meet you,” she said to Olivia.
“Maybe we can chat later?” Olivia gave her female companions a side-eye. “To help keep me sane?”
“I’d love that.” Jo gave her a sympathetic wave and followed Avery to his family’s table.
They were clustered in two groups, the men in what looked like a serious conversation, the women smiling as they watched her and Avery approach.
Charlotte Reese linked her arm through Marcus’, and Jo thought she whispered, “See, it’s her.”
He followed her gaze and a smile of recognition parted his lips.
She’d met them at the tasting at Giselle’s, but she hadn’t expected them to remember her. And she’d refreshed her memory of the rest of his family with an extensive Google search after agreeing to Avery’s plan.
Again, she withstood a round of lengthy glances as Avery introduced them, ending with, “These are my parents, Laine and Connie Preston.”
Everyone smiled and stared at Avery expectantly.
“Oh, sorry, this is…um…” He glanced at her for help.
She almost laughed at the panic on his face before she realized he’d never said her name when he introduced her to his friends. He’d just rattled off theirs.
Oh. My. God. I’ve become a What’s Her Name.
Heat rising in her cheeks, she wanted to let him feel the brunt of his shame for forgetting her name, to suffer the same embarrassment she did. But he’d helped her twice tonight, so she kind of owed him.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t punish him just a little.
She smiled at his mother. “I’m not sure if you know this, but your son is terrible with names. To be fair, we’ve only known each other a couple of weeks, and he doesn’t call me by my name.”
“What does he call you, dear?” his mother asked.
“Legs.” She rolled her eyes and tsked, enjoying Avery’s groan and the barks of laughter coming from his brothers. “It’s horrible, I know, but it’s sort of stuck. You can call me Jo.”
Without batting an eye, his mother asked, “Is that short for JoAnn or Josephine?”
“No, ma’am. Just Jo. Jo Hayes.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Jo. Please, call me Connie.”
“What do you call him?” Marcus asked, one brow cocked, reminding her of Avery when he was causing mischief. In fact, it was uncanny how much he and his brothers looked alike.
Avery shot her a warning glare and shook his head, though he had no idea what she planned to say. She hoped he was running through all the names she’d called him since they met. There were quite a few and most of them colorful.
Jo shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”
“Oh, but we do.” Spencer’s tone was insistent, saying he loved watching his baby brother squirm.
“Let’s just say, it starts with an A because he can be a real pain in the backside.”
“He can be a little shit sometimes, but yes, asshole works just fine,” his mother said with a laugh that caught on.
