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“Oh.” I glanced at Ravi, whose bushy eyebrows cinched together. “Should we cancel? We’ve only ordered bruschetta and wine.”

“No, don’t cancel! You guys have fun, and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Keep drinking.”

“Alright. See you soon.” I slipped my phone back into my purse. “Her Pilates instructor canceled.”

Ravi rolled his eyes. “Kara is her worst employee. I don’t know why Mari keeps her around.”

“Sounds like she got the flu.”

“Mm-hmm. She always has the flu. And she has about six grandmas who’ve died.” Ravi nodded at the server as he displayed the bottle of wine and uncorked it for us. He poured us both glasses, let Ravi taste it, then murmured our appetizers would be out in a moment.

Ravi lifted his glass. “To you. It’s so good to have you back, Shay.”

Smiling, I touched my glass to his. “Thanks, friend. I missed you guys, too. FaceTime isn’t the same.”

We sipped.

“So, how was your day?” I asked.

He lifted his shoulders and grinned sheepishly. “I got a huge commission from some upscale restaurant in Atlanta. They want me to do all their tables and the bar top.”

“Wow!” I toasted him far more sincerely this time. “That’s amazing, Ravi.”

His embarrassment was adorable, so I decided to prod it.

“Why didn’t you tell me how much work you’d done for the Shepherds?”

His brown skin turned an impressive shade of red. “I haven’t really.”

“Every table in the distillery is yours. The benches in the store. The bar. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I had a misguided hope.”

I laughed. “Why?”

Like magic, the bruschetta appeared before us, and I smiled at the server as Ravi leaned forward to grab one. He kept his eyes down. “I don’t pretend to know what happened between you and Cam Shepherd back then, but I’ll admit I had some suspicions, especially at the cotillion ball. I didn’t want you to think I was being disloyal.”

A mushy warmth melted my heart, and I gripped his hand. “Nothing happened between us.”

Like Maribel, his expression always took on a hint of disbelief when I made such declarations, but he nodded. “Well, since you’ve agreed to help him fix his mistakes and don’t look like a kicked puppy every time his name is mentioned, I figure you’re finally over it.”

Frowning, I tightened my grip, digging fingernails into his skin. “A kicked puppy?”

He started to reply, but a voice interrupted him. “Miss Honeycutt?”

I looked into the heavenly blue eyes of Nessa Shepherd as she approached our table. “Oh, hello.”

Slowly, I drew my hand back from Ravi, an action that did not go unnoticed by our guest.

“What a pleasure running into you here,” she said, eyeing us closely. “And our dear Ravi, too.”

“Hello, Mrs. Shepherd,” Ravi said with a genuine smile.

“Oh, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Nessa?”

Still smiling, Ravi bowed his head. “My apologies.”

Nessa turned to me. “I was just telling my son I’m still determined to snare you for a tea date. Imagine my fortune running into you here.”