Claire squinted through the screen. “Are youblushing?”
RAFAEL: Walking back now baby
RAFAEL: We’ve still got half an hour before dinner
RAFAEL: I want you naked when I walk in
Claire’s mouth twitched. “Right. I’ll let you get to work.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Selene had called before they’d even cleared customs: it was family dinner night, and it was nonnegotiable.
Rafael had been pulled into an emergency meeting related to an issue with the Malaysia deal, so Bea went ahead. The Griffin house was almost as familiar now as her own. Theia wasn’t a fan of the winter, even if it was mild by Toronto standards, so the temperature inside was balmy.
The first hour passed in bursts of laughter. Bea unpacked her trinkets with unapologetic delight, recounting how she’d bullied Rafael into haggling down a string of harbor beads on principle, fully aware he was negotiating over less than the price of an espresso.
Bea reached into her tote and set a weighty bottle of extra virgin olive oil on the table. “We had it blended at a small estate in Crete,” she said. “This one’s grassy at first with a peppery kick at the end.”
Leon turned the bottle in his hands, already approving. “We’re opening it tonight. Thank you.”
“Oh, and I solved our other problem.”
Selene blinked. “What problem?”
“What we’re wearing to the Griffin Charity Run.”
Leon’s brows lifted.
Bea pulled two t-shirts from her bag, still sealed in thin plastic, and laid them flat on the table like presentation materials.
The smaller purple one read:OLIVE YOU.
The larger blue one read:OLIVE YOU MORE.
Selene burst out laughing.
Leon examined them like a new project proposal. “If we’re committing to this, we’re committing properly. What are you wearing?”
She reached down again. Khaki. Pink.
OLIVE MY WIFE.
OLIVE MY HUSBAND.
Selene clapped, delighted.
Leon inspected the four shirts T-spread across his table, then looked back at Bea. “Did you get hats?”
Bea grinned. “Theios, I got you. They’re in Rafael’s suitcase. Mine wouldn’t zip.”
Selene carefully set the shirts aside as Leon reached for the oil again.
“Let’s see if Crete lives up to the branding.” He cracked the top, sniffed, green eyes brightening slightly. He drizzled a ribbon over warm bread that had just been brought in, and passed one to Selene first.
She tasted. “Oh.”
Leon passed a second to Bea. He tore off his own piece. “That’s very good.”
