Page 18 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

I know how to carry six plates and dodge a toddler with a jelly packet.

Different skill set.

Xander waits until I slide into the booth before he sits across from me. His gaze lands on the hoodie tied around my waist, then moves back up to my face.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re thinking too hard.”

“I’m in a place where the napkins are cloth. It’s a natural reaction.”

“You’re fine.”

“Easy for you to say.”

His eyes stay on me. “You look better in this than most women do dressed up.”

I roll my eyes because I have to do something. “That line probably works on people who were dropped on their heads.”

“It’s not a line.”

“Worse.”

Martha Callahan appears at the table before I can decide whether to be more annoyed or more flustered.

“Well,” she says. “This is interesting. Good to see you, Willow.”

I roll my eyes. “Please don’t start.”

Martha’s mouth twitches. “I haven’t started anything.”

“That’s what people say when they absolutely have.”

She ignores me and turns to Xander instead. “And good to see you back in one piece, too.”

“Likewise,” he says, calm as ever.

I look between them. “Why does that sound like there’s history there?”

Martha lifts one shoulder. “This town’s not that big, sweetheart. People know people.”

That answer is maddeningly vague, which means she definitely knows more than she’s saying and is enjoying every second of not saying it.

“Drinks?” she asks.

“Water,” I say.

“Red,” Xander says at the same time.

I close my eyes for one brief second. “Water, please.”

“You’ll have both,” Xander says.

I look at him. “You do realize I’m capable of deciding what goes in my own body.”

“I know.”

“Then stop ordering me around.”