“How will you ever get back to West?” Emma asked.
“He’ll find me.” Taylor glanced around and spotted her new husband dancing with his grandmother. Her eyes softened with obvious love and affection.
Emma couldn’t help feeling a swell of pride. After all, she’d brought the two together. Who knew matchmaking could be such a powerful thing?
Taylor moved forward and knelt in front of Granddad’s chair, taking his hands. Emma automatically adjusted the back of her friend’s dress to avoid making creases and stood by to make sure no one stepped on the end of it.
“Standing guard?”
Emma glanced over her shoulder at George. “Well, of course. It’s part of the girl’s code. We go to the bathroom in herds, pull loose hairs from sweaters, and hold up the ends of each other’s fancy dresses. There’s a whole list, but I’ll spare you.”
“And I appreciate that. So, are you and Mr. Woodhouse leaving? Could I possibly get a ride? Your sister and my brother are staying to the bitter end, I just know it.”
“Of course they will. And if I wasn’t such a homebody, I’d have you drive Granddad home and I’d stay. But as it is, my feet hurt, and all I want to do is curl up on my soft leather couch with a book.”
“Then it’s settled.”
The three of them gave their goodbyes to Taylor, and George carefully helped Granddad through the crowds and out to the parking lot while Emma followed close behind.
At least if they were losing Taylor, they still had George. He stopped by almost daily to chat with Granddad and tease Emma about pretty much anything she happened to be serious about at the time.
It used to make her so mad—this brother of her brother-in-law who insisted on hanging around, not quite family and not quite friend. But now it was a game they played. Who could annoy each other the most? It took a lot to break George, but she was getting good at it. And she had a great new idea that was sure to drive him insane.
“Thank you for giving me a ride home, Mr. Woodhouse,” George said to Granddad as they stopped to let a few faster-moving guests pass by on the sidewalk.
“Sure, Georgie. It’s no big thing.”
Emma shook her head at the way they greeted each other. Grandad was the only person who ever called him Georgie, as if he were a little boy. And yet, George still called him Mr. Woodhouse. She’d asked George about it once, and he’d only shrugged and said he wouldn’t use Granddad’s first name unless he asked him to.
George looked so tall and broad next to the stooped little man he escorted. The two continued to make small talk, with George nodding in agreement to all of Granddad’s worries as they popped up. Emma admired George’s long tan neck against the white of his shirt, his wavy hair just starting to curl under. He’d cut it soon. He always did. One of these days she’d find a non-weird way to run her hands through it before he cut it all off again.
Emma shook those thoughts away. She was happily single. Thinking of George that way was just … odd. They’d fallen into a comfortable friendship, and anything more would mess everything up.
When they were in range, Emma used the key fob to start the car, which was always kept at a comfortable sixty-eight degrees for Granddad. In Burbank, California, that wasn’t hard to maintain.
George opened the passenger door for Granddad, and then ran around and opened the driver door for Emma.
“Always the gentleman,” Emma said before getting in.
“A thank you would be nice,” he quipped back.
“Thank you, George.”
He shut her door and ducked into the backseat where he stretched out, letting out a long, satisfied breath, and undid his top button.
“Such an introvert,” she said, slowly shaking her head at him in the rearview mirror.
“Like you’re not.”
She pressed her lips together. Honestly, it depended on her mood. It would be awfully hard to be in the house with just Granddad now. She should have found a replacement for Taylor right away, instead of putting it off. But how did you replace someone who was both the perfect friend and the perfect employee?
Granddad’s eyelids were already beginning to close, though they opened wide for a moment as she went over a speedbump in the parking lot. Poor tired man. By the time they reached the freeway onramp, he was out cold.
George leaned forward between the two seats. “What did you think of Taylor and West’s first dance?”
He wore the best cologne, and she took a second to breathe in the scent of him. “My official statement is that it was sweet and fun. Why? Surely, you’re not one to criticize.”
“They danced to ‘You’re the One that I Want.’ I was hoping to catch your reaction, but I couldn’t find you in the crowd.”
