Page 51 of From the Ashes

“Never mind about all that,” she gushes. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet! Colt, this is Portia Bamford. Portia, this is my son, Colton Ross.”

She grips my elbow surprisingly hard for a woman of her age as she steers me to my seat. It’s clear there’s no getting out of this easily. So for the time being, I plaster on a smile as the young lady in question rises to her feet and holds out her hand. The fact she clearly wants to shake rather than expecting me to kiss her fingers like a lot of the women my parents have introduced me to immediately earns her a brownie point in my books.

“It’s nice to meet you, Colt,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes. “I hope we’re not pulling you away from anything important. Our moms got talking during book club, and apparently decided we had to become acquainted without delay.”

Her tone is playful, which tells me she also appreciates that this is a little ridiculous. But it also suggests that she has no idea that I’ve been lulled here under false pretenses. For her sake, I decide not to chew my parents out in front of her.

There is going to be a damn conversation, though. This is stepping over the line. I understand they both want me to be happy, but getting impatient and arranging a blind datewith themis like something out of a history book. You’d think I was a freaking prince who needs to be married off to secure the safety of the kingdom.

“You haven’t pulled me away from anything,” I assure her as I carefully sit down, minding my left hip. Draping my napkin over my lap gives me something to do as I hide my wince. “I’ve cleared my afternoon for this.”

That’s at least true. As I was expecting to be wining and dining a client, I had no intention of heading back to the office afterward.

Speaking of wine, I lean over and pick up the ice-cold bottle of white from the bucket to pour myself a glass. There’s no way I’m subjecting myself to this ordeal while sober.

Portia frowns and glances at my lap. “Are you all right?”

I blink midway through returning the wine bottle. “Uh, yeah, sure. Why?”

“The way you winced, I thought you might be injured,” she says with a practical sort of concern. “Would you be more comfortable in one of the booths with the sofa seating?”

I’m torn between being slightly horrified she noticed that, and enamored with her blunt but caring suggestion. Now I’m closer to her, I can see in the low lighting that her long hair is more strawberry blonde than platinum. She has high cheekbones and full lips, and although her blouse is done up respectably, I can still tell she has a magnificent rack.

To be fair to my mom, if I was in any way attracted to women, I’m sure Portia would actually be a winner.

“Oh, thanks, but—” I begin, but of course my father talks over me.

“Nonsense. This is the best table in the house, that’s why I booked it.”

I try not to be hurt that he cares more about appearances than my wellbeing. That’s nothing new, after all. It still stings a little, though.

“I just pulled a muscle,” I tell Portia.

“Doing what?” my mom asks, immediately getting into my business.

I take a sip of wine and try to rein in my sarcasm as I reply, “Surfing.” They don’t need to know that the pain was inflicted entirely on purpose and is nothing to be concerned about.

“You’re too old to still be indulging in such a childish pursuit,” my father grumbles.

Portia, however, seems to dial up the brilliance on her smile as she directs it at me and picks up her own half-finished glass of wine. “I never got the hang of surfing, but I love snorkeling, and I play volleyball competitively.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” I say sincerely. “What team?”

“Portia is a policy advisor for Mayor Hernández,” my mom interrupts, blatantly yanking the conversation in a direction she prefers. “But she’s got her eye on the governor’s office. Isn’t that right, Portia?”

“That would certainly make my mom very happy,” Portia replies with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“You know, Colt is thinking about getting into politics.”

“No, I’m not,” I blurt with a laugh before I can stop myself. My parents’ glares follow swiftly after, so I do my best to laugh some more, like we’re all in on the same joke. “I’ve only just moved back into town and I’m still finding my feet in our family’s law practice,” I explain convivially to Portia. “Maybe one day I’ll think about moving on from that. But for right now, I owe it to the company to stay put for the time being.”

“Oh, you two work together?” Portia asks, giving my father an approving smile that appears to mollify him a little.

Oh. She’s good.

“We do indeed,” I say, looking around for a menu as there doesn’t seem to be any around. “Should we order some food before we get too distracted?”

“We already ordered a selection for the table,” my father says dismissively. His attention is on Portia and I’m not keen on the gleam in his eyes, and he smiles back at her. “We all know Colt is destined for more than family law. It’s only natural that he’ll be moving on soon enough. Therefore, it made sense to introduceyou two. There’s no harm in thinking about the future, is there, Colt?”

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