Page 61 of I Think They Love You

“Lower your voice.” Kami’s eyes dance around the ballroom, as if that word—“boyfriend”—could summon the aunties. “Who said we’re using official titles?”

Denz shakes his head. “You’ve been hiding him from our family for months. If that isn’t a boyf—”

“Where’sBraylon?” she counters.

Denz looks away. The last texts he got from Braylon, over forty minutes ago, were equally chaotic and apologetic:

Sorry. Running late. We had a bowling day for the teens.

Showered and changed. Sorry again. Leaving home!

Loads of traffic. Will be there soon. Very sorry!

Denz slaps on a big, fake smile. “He’s coming. I can’t wait. I miss him.”

“Calm down, Ryan Reynolds,” Kami says, giving him a weird look. “We get it. You love Blake.”

Denz squawks but his comeback is intercepted by Jordan appearing at their sides. He swipes a champagne glass, shouting, “On your six!”

Kenneth breaks through the crowd in a striking Stefano Ricci tuxedo. On his arm, in a sleeveless red gown with a tiered skirt, is Mayor Reynolds.

Jordan squares his shoulders. Kami smooths down her dress, eyes twinkling. That’s when Denz notices the photographers trailing the mayor. Well, fuck. He rests his empty glass on the bar before turning on his own practiced charm.

“The Carter Trio,” Mayor Reynolds says. She’s a tall, curvy woman with fawn skin and a freckled face. A glimmering tiarasits atop her teased hair. She hugs Kami, then Jordan. “Denzel, this party is heavenly. People can’t stop talking about it.”

“Anything for you, Mayor.”

“Oh,please. Call me Tiffany.”

Denz grins but doesn’t cross that line. Not with his dad watching nearby. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he says over a Maroon 5 ballad.

“This might be the best V-Day gala yet!”

Very cautiously, Denz glances to her left. He waits for his dad’s approving smile. It’s more of a stiff nod.

“Thanks for fixing that last-minute menu catastrophe,” the mayor goes on.

Denz freezes.

Hundreds of emails were exchanged over the last month. He answered a dozen this morning alone. But in all thedo we really need a meeting for this?messages, he doesn’t remember approving a menu alteration. It’s been set since last week.

He tugs at his collar. “Um, no problem?”

“I’m so embarrassed. My team forgot to include my husband’s lactose intolerance in the dietary restrictions list,” the mayor says.

“Oh, yeah.” Denz swallows bile. He can sense his dad’s heavy stare on him. “All fixed.”

“Justin loved the broccoli fritters,” the mayor tells him.

“Amazing, right?”

“And the tomato basil bruschetta.”

“Who doesn’t love a great bruschetta!”

Denz needs to find out who handled this oversight without lettinghimin on the issue.

“Justin’s been asking all night,” the mayor continues, “for the crispy baked asparagus fries recipe. The ones with the—” She pauses, hands on her hips while watching Denz sweat.

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