Page 85 of Every Move You Make

“Wow, that accent got a lot thicker since you’ve been gone,” she laughs. “S’cute.”

Then someone in the background with Robyn yells, “Mimosas for everyone!”

“Okay, we’ll let you go,” Dell smiles. “Sounds like you’re celebrating hard today.”

“I can’t believe it,” she squeals.

“I can,” I grin. “You earned it, Robyn. Enjoy it.”

“Thanks, guys. I miss you.”

My eyes find Dells before I say, “We miss you too.”

When the call ends, Dell leaps out of bed and with a grunt, throws a tight fist high in the air. “That’s our girl! C’mon, Zay. We gotta pump some iron in the gym before I get any more wound up. Whoo!”

“Dell,” I drawl, stepping out of an F-150 we borrowed from his dad. “What is this place?”

“This is Castle Gardens. It’s like a public park and event center.”

“Let me guess, your family owns it?”

He just smiles and takes my hand. “Castle Senior Center is just down the way there. Gram likes to go there and volunteer.”

“Volunteer? She’s ninety. What does she do?” I ask as we step into the beautiful grand entryway. This place is exactly what you’d get if you put old money whiskey style with lush gardens. The chandelier above our heads is the size of a compact car, dotted with dim lights.

“About ten years ago, I taught her Zumba, and she fell in love with it. Now she teaches it at the senior center.”

“Currently? I thought you said she was frail and didn’t know how many more birthdays she had.”

Following a few other people, we step through the first set of doors into a motherfuckin’ ballroom with wide, expansive windows that overlook rolling hills of curated gardens and trails. More fountains. More sculptures.

“Do we everreallyknow how many more birthdays someone will have?”

“She’s super healthy, isn’t she?”

“Very. She walks five miles a day and drinks beet juice every morning. She’s constantly sticking her fingers in corporate purchasing’s business. And she’s been known to travel to our competitors’ whiskey tasting rooms to dissuade patrons and promote Castle Whiskey.”

“Oh my god.”

“She’s fuckin’ awesome.”

“There you are,” Brook says out of breath, coming to stand next to us with determination, an ear piece, and a clipboard in hand. She touches the button in her ear. “I got them. Isaiah, no thanks to my brother, but I didn’t plan for you. Do you have any dietary restrictions? I need to tell the catering staff immediately.”

It’s then that I remember Dell telling me she’s the General Manager here. I’m about to say no, but he cuts me off. “Brook, are you okay?”

“No,” she hisses. “Everything is running smoothly and I justknowsomething is going wrong. Somethingbig.Whatare your dietary restrictions, Isaiah?”

Again, Dell cuts me off. “He’s a vegan. He’s also allergic to tree nuts.”

Brook's eyes blow and her jaw unhinges. “Oh my god,” she gasps and turns on her heel, running toward the door with her hand attached to her ear. “I have a code green! I need all hands…” her voice trailing off as she hightails it out of there.

“I’m not a vegan.”

“I know, but trust me when I say, it’s better that she has something like this to worry about. She derives great fulfillment in situations like this. Honestly, she won’t enjoy the party if she isn’t organizing or fixing something.”

“Yeah, but now I have to eat a vegan meal.”

He chuckles and brings me into a quick hug. “I’ll switch plates with you.”

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