Page 137 of Ice Princess

“What about the feud between your shop and Stewart Kinsey’s?” May spits out Stewart’s name.

“Uh, yeah, that’s still happening.”

The celebratory energy around the table dies like a balloon losing air.

“Are you guys dating without figuring those things out?” April asks, gnawing on her bottom lip.

I shrug and nod.

April scrubs a finger over an eyebrow, her concern expanding so far it threatens to snowball the entire building.

“You know,” May stabs her drink with a straw, attempting to lighten the mood, “I’msocurious about how Gunner is as aboyfriend. He’s so quiet and he looks angry all the time. I’d be scared to even talk to him.”

“I’m used to dating guys who love hearing themselves talk, so being with someone quiet is a nice change of pace. Gunner’s really sweet once you get to know him.” I stroke my pink gemstone necklace, remembering how his hands had trembled as he put it on for me.

“Gunner?” May’s mouth opens in surprise. “Sweet?”

I bob my head unable to stop grinning.

“Are we talking about the hockey player? The giant one with the black hair and the dark eyes who grunts like a caveman in after-game interviews?Thatguy?” At my insistent nod, May shakes her head slowly. “I can’t imagine it.”

I pop another ice cube into my mouth. “He’s not sweet to everyone only to me, but that’s what I like about him.”

April and May look eager to ask me more questions, but I notice Delia checking her watch and tapping her nails on the table. Rather than let the conversation drag on, I suggest we call it a night.

On the way to the escalator, a little boy streaks past us.

“Mommy!” the child says, crying big, desperate tears. “Mommy!”

Immediately, my head swivels around.

As one, May, April and I head right over.

April kneels in front of the little boy while I pluck out my pack of pink tissues. She accepts them from me and wipes the child’s ruddy face.

“Don’t cry, sweetie,” May says in a gentle voice.

The little boy cries harder.

“Phillip!” A woman’s harried voice bounces around the mall and, a second later, she bursts into sight.

The moment the little boy sees her, his tears dry up. “Mommy!”

“Oh, sweetheart. I told you not to take off like that.” The woman scoops him into her arms and looks at us with a harried smile. “Thank you so much. I took my eyes off him for one second and he got lost in the crowd.”

“It’s okay.” May gives her a reassuring nod.

“We’re glad that he got back to you safe and sound,” I tell her.

“Phillip, say goodbye to the nice ladies,” the mother says.

Phillip waves with tears still dangling from his lashes and is carted off happily in his mother’s arms.

“What a cutie,” I say, grinning.

April glances around. “Where’s Delia?”

“She was right behind…” May’s voice drifts off. “Hey, where’d she go?”

---