“At her or you?”
“At everyone. They say we failed her. We say she’s lazy. It’s a big mess.”
“I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”
She forced a smile and sat taller. “I don’t have to deal with it for at least an hour.”
“So what do you want to talk about?” They’d agreed that they wouldn’t discuss the kids. He was kind of at a loss for conversation topics.
“Tell me about growing up.”
He rubbed his free hand down the front of his jeans. “It’s just me and my brother.”
“Quin?”
“Yep. We’re still pretty tight. He loves designing coasters. I think he does it in his sleep, because he’ll be totally out, snoring away, and then jump up and hit the computer with this new idea.”
She smiled. “Sounds like he’s found his passion.”
“Yeah. And he’s so good.”
“Aw. You’re proud of your little bro.” She bumped him with her shoulder.
He laughed and nodded. “He made this crazy deal with a girl from college. If they aren’t married by their ten-year reunion, they’re supposed to marry each other.”
She blinked. “Why didn’t they just get married in college?”
“That’s not how marriage pacts work.”
She laughed. “I guess not.”
They pulled up in front of the Purple Papaya. “I’ve got it, Gibbs.”
“Very good, sir.”
Ben reached across Avery and pushed the door open. She twisted out of the seat, her knees together, and stood gracefully. The Duchess of Cambridge couldn’t have done it better.
He climbed out and offered her his arm. She linked hers to his, and he lifted his chest, prideful that this woman was his for the afternoon. They stepped inside the building.
Avery gasped, her fingers digging into his arm.
Ben followed her horrified gaze and found a small group of retirees staring at them with wide eyes. They had oversized purses, one with knitting needles sticking out the top. Another lady had a small dog in her purse, visible through the netting on the side.
Avery’s face turned seven shades of red. “Hello, everyone.” She released his arm quickly and stepped away from him.
Ben frowned. The space between them was a forbidden zone, and he didn’t like it one bit.
“What are you doing here, dear?” asked a lady with dark gray hair and a scowl. Her tone was light, but the dark look she threw at Ben added “with him” to her question. She reached for Avery’s shoulders and pulled her close, like a mother hen protecting her chick.
“I’m on a date.” Avery reached blindly for Ben’s arm, looking for all intents and purposes like a woman drowning. He stepped willingly to her side, ready to be whatever she needed at the moment. “This is Ben Wilaby. His daughter goes to the Academy. Ben, this is Evelyn.”
“How do you do?” He nodded to her, afraid that if he offered his hand, she’d bite it.
“Better than I deserve.” Evelyn’s lips disappeared in a line of judgment as she scanned him from his shoes to his hair.
“Wonderful.” He held his smile.
“Mr. Wilaby, your table is ready,” said the host. The astute man must have picked up on the tension from his place behind the podium and offered an escape. There was a hefty tip for him for saving them from this bizarre and uncomfortable situation.
