“Sit down,” my grandmother demands.
“The eggs are from the farmer’s market, and the bread is from the town bakery,” Cleo informs me.
I slide into the chair to the left of my grandmother. “Not there. That’s Cleo’s seat.”
“Oh, that’s fine, Helen,” Cleo mumbles as she tops the toast with the perfectly scrambled eggs.
“No, you always sit there so you can read that side of the newspaper. Fox, move.”
I roll my eyes and swap to the other seat. Cleo slides the plates in front of us. So not only are we sitting in the kitchen while she makes breakfast, we are eating here too? It’s a minor miracle that she shares breakfast with Cleo and enjoys her company. My grandmother tolerates people, and doesn’t seek out their company—unless they’re me. She hosts the book club, and she’ll have an occasional meal with a male friend. Other than that, she prefers her own company and keeps her own counsel. Cleo has managed to break through every wall.
She puts an extra portion of breakfast in Duke’s bowl while he waits patiently for her command. She nods. “Take it.” He darts forward and demolishes his food.
Cleo pours my grandmother her tea from the pot and adds the correct amount of milk and sugar. What is happening? She jerks her head at my empty cup. “Tea, or would you like coffee?”
“Tea is fine. Thanks.”
She fills our cups, before sliding into the seat to my grandmother’s left. They fall into an easy conversation about the various items in the newspaper.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I withdraw it and frown at the message.
We have three promising leads. Stay low while we pull on the strings and see which one gets us the result you need.
“Fox Alderidge, I know I brought you up better than having a phone out while we are eating.” I bite my tongue, knock off the vibration, and place it back in my pocket. I am not eager to feel the wrath of Helen Alderidge.
“What are your plans today?” she asks as I take my first bite of my breakfast. Damn. I’m not saying scrambled eggs are difficult to make, but they can be overcooked, undercooked, and the seasoning off. Cleodelivers the perfect plate of scrambled eggs and toast. She even let the toast cool a little so it didn’t go soggy.
My plans? I’m trying to distract myself from the fact that my professional life is imploding. “Catch up with a few friends and take a walk around town with Duke. Move my stuff into the main house.”
“About that,” my grandmother starts as Duke growls and narrows his eyes at the door. We have a male caller at 7 a.m.? What is happening? Cleo wipes her hands on her napkin and hops off her stool, in tune not only with my grandmother, but my dog. She scolds Duke on the way with a look. He drops his ass down onto the floor with a huff. This woman has fire in her soul.
There’s a gentle rap against the door as Cleo flings it open.
“Samuel?” she questions as her shoulders stiffen and her fists tighten. “What are you doing here?”
What is my best friend doing here? I can’t see him from my position and decide to stay put as I figure out their dynamic.
“Good news. You don’t only get the pleasure of my company on Tuesday’s and Friday’s—I’ll be here six days a week for the next month.”
My grandmother’s lips twitch.What are you up to?
Cleo’s body is tense, like she’s fighting not to run. “I don’t understand.”
“Helen didn’t tell you? I’m here to renovate the bedrooms and bathrooms in the main house.”
Her head whips around to my grandmother, who busies herself eating her breakfast. Why is Samuel so familiar with Cleo?
“She mentioned plans for renovation, but not when it was starting.”
“The timeline was expedited last night, and when Helen Alderidge says do it now, you don’t question it.” True enough. “Which means my persistent ass can get rejected by you daily.” Cleo’s brows slam together before she twists back to him. “No woman can resist these baby blues for long.” So he’s pursuing Cleo? Figures. Samuel sees women as mountains he has to conquer.
Cleo flexes her shoulders. Something about his statement has upset her.
Wait, if he is here to renovate the bedrooms and bathrooms, that means there are no spare rooms in the main house. My gaze falls back to my grandmother, whose expression is a picture of innocence.
“Like I said, you’ll need to stay in the pool house with Cleo,” she confirms. Fuck. My meddling grandmother is playing cupid. But with me or Samuel?
“So what do you say, Cleo? Saturday night?” Samuel says. I can hear the playful yet hopeful tone in his voice.
