“What?” she asked, feigning innocence. “I may be old, but I’m not blind. That boy is a tall drink of water and, honey, you look mighty thirsty.”
“Nope. We are not going there,” Cora warned, holding up a hand. “We’re supposed to be talking about saving the café, not resurrecting my love life.”
“Of course,” Aggie said, patting her hand. “Though I don’t see why we can’t multitask.”
“Just so you know,” Bea said, pulling out her notebook, “I’ve got a list of eligible bachelors lined up if things don’t work out with Jack.” She flipped to a page that seemed tohave the names of at least twenty men. “There’s the new dentist in town. He has a great smile, obviously. Oh, and there’s the guy who opened the new bookstore last year. He’s quiet, but I bet he’d read you poetry in bed.”
“My nephew is single,” Winston chimed in. “He’s a computer whiz. I’m sure he couldupgrade your software.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Cora stared at him, horrified. “Winston, I’m begging you. Never say that again.”
“What?” he asked, looking genuinely confused. “I thought that’s how you young people talked these days.”
“Trust me,” a new voice said from the doorway, “it’s not.”
Cora looked up to see Jack leaning against the doorframe with an amused smirk. The way he stood there, so at ease, you’d think he owned the place. How long had he been standing there?
“Jack!” Bea exclaimed, her voice a little too enthusiastic. “We were just talking about you.”
“I can imagine,” he said, his eyes locking onto Cora’s with a knowing glint that made her heart race.
“We were telling Cora here how much we appreciate you,” Aggie said, her voice all sweetness.
Cora mumbled something unintelligible, suddenly fascinated by a loose thread on her jeans.
That dimple appeared in Jack’s cheek. “Well, as fun as this is, I think we have more pressing matters. Like how we’re going to deal with the Worthingtons.”
Winston perked up. “Funny you should mention that,” he said, reaching for his briefcase. After rummaging around, he pulled out an elegant cream-colored envelope with a flourish.
“What’s that?” Bea asked, leaning forward.
“An invitation to the Worthingtons’ annual garden party,” Winston replied. “This weekend.”
The room fell silent as they all stared at the envelope.
“How did you get that?” Cora asked, incredulous.
Winston shrugged. “Being the editor of the town paper has its perks. The question is, what are we going to do with it?”
“We’re going to use it, that’s what,” Aggie said. “You know good and well that family’s behind half the backdoor deals in this town. If Nathaniel’s got something cooking that involves The Spoon, we’re not going to hear about it from a press release.”
Cora looked at him, then the invitation. “You can’t be serious. We can’t just walk into the Worthington estate!”
“Why not?” Aggie asked, practically bouncing in her seat. “It’ll be like in the movies. We’ll dress up, drink some expensive champagne, and blend in with the ritzy people. It’ll be fun!”
“Fun?” Cora repeated. “It will be a disaster. We don’t know the first thing about infiltrating high society.”
“Speak for yourself,” Winston sniffed. “I once crashed a party at a senator’s house. Taught his wife how to make the perfect martini. It’s too bad she drank too many of them and got arrested for public indecency. The senator’s approval rating dropped five points overnight.”
Cora looked around at their eager faces and sighed. “You’re all insane.”
“Thank you for noticing,” Aggie replied sweetly.
Jack chuckled and sat on the arm of the couch next to Cora. The way he casually invaded her personal space did not go unnoticed by Aggie, who flashed a knowing smirk.
Bea, on the other hand, was completely focused on the invitation. She held the card stock up to her nose. “I think I can duplicate this.”
“Oh? You’re a counterfeiter now?” Aggie asked.
