“Yes, Ma’am,” I say with a southern drawl, which makes Tillie giggle.
As I peel the cling wrap from the bowl, she asks, “So, how was your date last night?”
“Oh, it wasn’t a date,” I say, picking up the fork.
She lifts a brow. “No?”
“It was just some business party thingy for one of his clients.”
“Are you related to the client?”
“No.”
“Was the party in any way connected to you or what you hired him for?”
“No.”
“Did he open the car door for you?”
“Yes.”
“Did he introduce you as his ‘date’?”
“Yes.”
“Was his hand on or around you the entire time?”
“Yes.”
“Then it was a date.”
“No, it was afavor.”
Tillie cackles. “Girl, there are women lined up around the block to give my brother ‘favors’. He wouldn’t need to turn to a client for one. He definitely likes you.”
“I probably should have picked up on it when he asked me to have you stay here,” Monica says with a light smile, “because that man does not joke about his family. Do you know how many of his clients I’ve met?” The question is apparently rhetorical because she answers right away, “None. Not to mention subjecting himself to Lexi’s wrath. Trust me, you’ve got his attention.”
“No offense, but I’m starting to think neither of you know Torin very well,” I mutter around a mouthful of pineapple, refusing to absorb any of what’s being said.
Do I believe Torin is attracted to me? Yes. Barely. But to have any kind of notion that his attraction to me will lead to anything would be setting myself up for major disappointment. I’ve witnessed his intense aggravation with himself whenever he slips with me and gets too close, so I know better.
He’ll never bite.
Never taste.
So I change the subject. “Can I come along for the ride with you today?”
“Of course,” Monica answers. “Just be sure to let Torin know before we leave, okay?”
“Okay.” I wave my fork around. “Is there anything I can help with?”
Monica points to my bowl of fruit. “Just as soon as that bowl is empty.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Tillie giggles.
~